i\<<<u^vvsH^^vvnn>>m»mjjij>???: 
 
 fp^ffffif£Af/lai(^t0«fi*ii.i*.**,%\*. 
 
 ?■ * 'i i immmW mMlmmMi - 
 
 ^f 4 jf -< # C V i! 11 1^ H*«m •^***. i|-.%' 
 
 
 mm 
 iii 
 
 ^w rMlmmmmmimimi 
 
 ill 
 If 
 
 [»»«!«* 
 
 VMm 
 
/ , XS'. %^ 
 
 LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 PRINCETON, N. J. 
 
 Presented by 
 
 rnrs.J.Uf.^oWs 
 
 Divisio n... Sw*!f .S 
 Section .^./. t/ / 
 

SERMONS ^0ifmHctr^ 
 
 JAN 2b 1924 
 
 A 
 
 PREACHED IN THE 
 
 ^k 
 
 Bsmi %m 
 
 ^S! 
 
 CHAPEL OF HARVARD COLLEGE 
 
 JAMES WALKER, D.D. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 TICK NOR AND FIELDS. 
 
 1862. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1861, by 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 University Press, Cambridge : 
 Stereotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON I. P^,, 
 
 The Mediator 2 
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 The Everlasting Gospel 20 
 
 SERMON III. 
 St. Paul, or the Scholar among the Apostles 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 Prayer 
 
 39 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 Alleged Infidelity of Great Men .... 55 
 
 SERMON V. 
 Inward Manifestation of Christ . . , .74 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 The Student's Sabbath 86 
 
 103 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON VIII. 
 Religion as affected by the Progress of the Phys- 
 ical Sciences 119 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 Conscience 135 
 
 SERMON X. 
 Motives 152 
 
 SERMON XI. 
 Character 168 
 
 SERMON XII. 
 Government of the Thoughts 182 
 
 SERMON XIII. 
 Difficulty, Struggle, Progress . . , .199 
 
 SERMON XIV. 
 Sins of Omission ........ 209 
 
 SERMON XV. 
 No Hiding-place for the Wicked .... 226 
 
 SERMON XVI. 
 Thou shalt say, No 239 
 
 SERMON XVII. 
 The Heart more than the Head .... 252 
 
CONTENTS. V 
 
 SERMON XVIII. 
 Compromises 270 
 
 SERMON XIX. 
 Conditions of Success in Life 286 
 
 SERMON XX. 
 On the Choice of a Profession 302 
 
 SERMON XXI. 
 The End not yet 323 
 
 SERMON XXII. 
 Faith and Works 340 
 
 SERMON XXIII. 
 Salvation by Hope . 353 
 
 SERMON XXIV. 
 Differences among Christians no Objection to 
 
 Christianity 365 
 
 SERMON XXV. 
 The Day of Judgment 380 
 
SEEMONS. 
 
 THE MEDIATOR. 
 
 FOR THERE IS ONE GOD, AND ONE MEDIATOR BETWEEN GOD AND 
 
 MEN, THE MAN CHRIST JESUS. — 1 Timothy ii. 5. 
 
 The sense of man's need of a Mediator did not 
 spring up for the first time in Christianity. It seems 
 to have had its origin in a feeling of the distance, the 
 incomprehensibleness, the unapproachableness of the 
 unseen object of fear and worship. Common men 
 were afraid to speak to God ; they did not conceive 
 themselves to be in a condition to speak to him face 
 to face. Accordingly, they looked round for some 
 person or persons, bolder or holier than they, who 
 would speak to God for them, — whether to ask his 
 aid, or to acknowledge his goodness, or to appease 
 his anger. 
 
 Hence, for the most part, the priesthoods of the 
 ancient world ; for it was out of this sentiment of 
 ignorance, and awe, and human unworthiness, that 
 
 1 A 
 
2 THE MEDIATOR. 
 
 nearly all of what was good or bad in tlie priestly 
 office arose. We see its beginnings even in barba- 
 rous tribes, where there is almost always one or more 
 who, in the character of magicians or necromancers, 
 are resorted to by the rest, as having intercourse and 
 influence with the invisible powers. In India and 
 in Egypt the same idea was elaborately carried out 
 in the organization of an hereditary sacerdotal caste, 
 arrogating to itself the exclusive right of mediating 
 between earth and heaven. And so of Greece and 
 Rome ; for though in their best days this assumption 
 on the part of the priests was reduced and limited 
 in many ways, it was by no means extinct. If Soc- 
 rates would consult the Oracle at Delphi, he must 
 do it through a priestess of the temple ; if Augus- 
 tus would know the will of the Gods as to the 
 conduct of the war, there must be a diviner hi the 
 camp. 
 
 Turning next to the Hebrews, we find a people 
 whose very form of government, a theocracy, made 
 it necessary that almost everything should be done 
 through mediators between God and men. Moses, 
 by whom the Law came, was eminently " a media- 
 tor," and is expressly so denominated in the New 
 Testament. He also says of himself in Deuteron- 
 omy, " I stood between the Lord and you at that 
 time, to show you the word of the Lord." Hence, 
 too, the appointment of Aaron and his posterity as 
 
THE MEDIATOR. 3 
 
 a perpetual priesthood, to act as so many " media- 
 tors," through whom alone the people were to have 
 access to Jehovah in the solemn and imposing ser- 
 vice of the Temple. The people did not offer up 
 their own sacrifices ; they brought the victims or 
 oblations to the priest, who made the offering in 
 their name and stead. The people did not so much 
 as enter the vestibule of the temple : even in the 
 solemn atoning service, which was for the whole na- 
 tion, the priests alone went in, while the people 
 stood without. So likewise in great national emer- 
 gencies, when it became necessary " to inquire of 
 the Lord," it was through the High Priest, and 
 by means of the Sacred Lot, that the response was 
 expected and given. Such at least was the original 
 provision ; in later times this office seems to have 
 devolved, for the most part, on the Prophets ; al- 
 ways, however, it was by " mediators." 
 
 It is obvious, therefore, as I have said that, Chris- 
 tianity did not give birth to the idea of a mediator 
 between God and men ; neither was it the object 
 of Christianity to extend that idea, or the agency 
 representing it, but rather to purify, to exalt, and, 
 in some respects, to limit both. 
 
 I shall begin by calling your attention to the 
 limitations here referred to, as the first step to- 
 wards a truly Christian conception of the Mediato- 
 rial Office. 
 
4 THE liIEDIATOR. 
 
 In the first place, while other religions acknowl- 
 edge a multitude of mediators, Christianity knows 
 but one. So in the text : " For there is one God, 
 and one Mediator between God and men, the man 
 Christ Jesus." Also, in another place, the same 
 Apostle says, if possible with still more explicit- 
 ness, " For though there be that are called gods, 
 whether in heaven or in earth (as there be gods 
 many, and lords many), but to us there is but one 
 God, the Father, of whom are all things, and we 
 in him ; and one Lord, Jesus Christ, by wliom are 
 all things, and we by him." Accordingly, the whole 
 scheme of mediation, so far as it had depended 
 on a ritual worship and the ministration of men 
 like ourselves, became essentially changed. As Ne- 
 ander has said: "Such a guild of priests as ex- 
 isted in the previous systems of religion, empowered 
 to guide other men, who remained, as it were, in 
 a state of religious pupilage ; having the exclusive 
 care of providing for their religious wants, and serv- 
 ing as mediators, by whom all other men must first 
 be placed in connection with God and divine things ; 
 — such a priestly caste could find no place within 
 Christianity." * Instead of the many so-called 
 " mediators," in whom men previously trusted, the 
 Gospel has set forth one all-sufficient Mediator, — 
 
 * General History of the Christian Eeligion and Church, Vol. I. 
 p. 179. 
 
THE MEDIATOR. 5 
 
 one, because all-sufficient. We need no other, and 
 we are not at liberty to acknowledge any other. 
 It is not enough considered that what the text for- 
 bids by implication is just as true, and quite as 
 important, as what it expressly asserts. It warns 
 us not to let any man, or any body of men, or any- 
 thing whatsoever, save our Lord Jesus Christ, come 
 between the soul and its Maker. Mmisters, wise 
 and pious friends, books, religious services, early 
 training, — all these aids to faith and piety may 
 help to put us into the way to God, but they are 
 not the way itself. We must not suppose thq^ it is 
 only by them, or through them, that we have access 
 to the Father, or that they can bar this access to 
 the humblest of Christ's followers. 
 
 In the second place, not only has this way of 
 access to the Father been opened to us by one 
 Mediator, but by him once for all. This is inti- 
 mated again and again. While the old priesthoods 
 are represented as " daily ministering, and offering 
 oftentimes the same sacrifices," it is expressly said 
 that " we are sanctified through the offering of the 
 body of Jesus Christ, once for ally 
 
 In order to understand the sacrificial language of 
 the New Testament in its application to Christ, we 
 must bear in mind that Christianity is not merely an 
 absolute religion, that is, a religion all whose doc- 
 trines, when rightly construed, are absolutely true; 
 
6 THE MEDIATOR. 
 
 but also an historical religion. Christianity did not 
 spring into being having no connections with the 
 past : like every other great revolution, it has its 
 place in history, and its historical antecedents, out 
 of which it grew, to which it is accommodated, and 
 without reference to which it can neither be compre- 
 hended nor explained. Historically considered, the 
 New Testament stands related to the Old as the ful- 
 filling of the Law, as the accomplishment of the 
 prophecies, as the final realization of what was but 
 '^ a shadow of good things to come," — the gospel of 
 Moses became the gospel of Christ. Accordingly, al- 
 most all its doctrines and institutions, almost all its 
 modes of religious thought and religious expression, 
 are at bottom Jewish, with only such modifications 
 in terms or sense, or both, as fitted them to become 
 the exponents of a universal and spiritual dispensa- 
 tion. Now one of the fundamental ideas in the 
 Hebrew ritual is, that the people are not in a con- 
 dition to approach their God, without first going 
 through a process of purification and reconciliation 
 by means of oblations and sacrifices ; and that this 
 process is to be renewed day by day, and year by 
 year. Such was the Jewish idea, and it reappears 
 in the Gospel, carried out and fulfilled under a 
 Christian form, in the doctrine that whatever was 
 understood to be done for "a peculiar people " by 
 the sacrifices and oblations of the Old Testament, 
 
THE MEDIATOR. 7 
 
 is now done for all mankind, and once for all, by 
 the self-sacrifice of Christ. Through his sole media- 
 tion, that is to say, by his teachings and sufferings, 
 by his life and death, he has broken down forever 
 the legal and ritual impediments which were thought 
 to separate man from his Maker, and thus opened 
 a way of access to the Father " once for all." By 
 a new and far more sublime revelation of grace 
 and truth, and spiritual freedom, he has opened to 
 the whole world a door of access to the Mercy- 
 Seat, and left it open ; and, blessed be God, it is a 
 door which no man, or body of men, can shut. 
 
 Another circumstance distinguishing Christ's me- 
 diation is, that it aims to dispense with the neces- 
 sity for all further mediation, by bringing God and 
 man together^ and making them one. Our Lord's 
 words are : " That they all may be one ; as thou, 
 Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also 
 may be one in us." With the mediating priests 
 and prophets of antiquity it was not so. What they 
 in general undertook to do was merely to open 
 between God and men a kind of distant communi- 
 cation or correspondence, by bearing to the former 
 the offerings and requests of the latter, and bringing 
 back the response. But Christ has done more. 
 As the one Mediator he has opened, once for all, 
 not only a way of communication with the Father, 
 but a way of access to Him, — that " new and living 
 
8 THE MEDIATOR. 
 
 way " by which, instead of sending^ we go. It is 
 the privilege, the distinction, the glory of Chris- 
 tians, that they have personal, direct, immediate ac- 
 cess to the Father. I do not mean to deny that we 
 owe this doctrine to Clirist, — in other words, that 
 all is through him. Nay, more, I do not mean to 
 deny the continued presence and agency of Christ 
 in the Church ; nor that " he ever liveth to make 
 intercession for us;" — all this, nevertheless, is not 
 that he may still stand between God and man, in 
 the sense of keeping them apart, but that he may 
 bring them together, and make them one. " By 
 whom," as our common version of the Bible renders 
 it, "we have now received the atonement," — that 
 is, the al-one-ment, or the being at one. 
 
 Thus far I have spoken of obvious and striking 
 points of difference between the Christian notion of a 
 mediator, and the pagan or Jewish notion. But the 
 question may here suggest itself to some minds, 
 Why any mediator ? 
 
 In answering this question, I think it neither wise 
 nor reverent to lay much stress on arguments drawn 
 from human conceptions of the Divine nature and 
 government. For example : there are those who 
 think it enough to say that God cannot forgive sin, 
 however sincerely repented of, or receive the re- 
 pentant and reclaimed sinner into favor, without a 
 mediator; that is to say, he cannot do it freely. 
 
THE MEDIATOR. 9 
 
 and of his own accord. But why not ? I certainly 
 can see no reason why he could not, if he ivould ; 
 indeed, I cannot see any reason why he would not. 
 All such confident assertion on the part of philoso- 
 phers and theologians as to what God can do, or 
 cannot do, resting on no better authority than their 
 imperfect conceptions of the Divine attributes, must 
 be extremely distasteful to serious minds ; and be- 
 sides, it comes, let me add, with an ill grace from 
 those who on other occasions are among the fore- 
 most to condemn the use of reason in rehgion, and 
 especially in speaking of God. 
 
 On the other hand, I can as httle agree with 
 those who think it an argument against the use 
 and necessity of a mediator, that God is immutable 
 and impassible, and therefore cannot be changed in 
 his purposes respecting man by what a third per- 
 son can say or do; and furthermore, that he is 
 essentially merciful, and always ready to forgive, 
 and therefore needs no change. For, in the first 
 place, if we beheve in the proper efiicacy of prayer, 
 we must not make God immutable and impassible 
 in such a sense that he cannot be affected by 
 Christ's intercessions- in our behalf ; and again, if 
 we believe God to be a moral being, we must also 
 believe him to be moved by the spectacle of Christ's 
 sufferings. Add to this what we know of God's 
 providence in this world. Are we not continually 
 1* 
 
10 THE IVIEDIATOK. 
 
 thanking Him for blessings, which, however, we do 
 not receive from him directly, but through "media- 
 tors," that is, through the instrumentality of others? 
 Accordingly, I cannot see anything unphilosophical, 
 or improbable, or contrary to experience, in the 
 doctrine that we are indebted for many hopes and 
 privileges to Christ's mediation, and to the effect 
 of this mediation on God. 
 
 Even, however, if it were not so, it would not 
 materially affect the question at issue. You are 
 aware that the reconciliation to be brought about 
 by the mediation of Christ is everywhere repre- 
 sented in the New Testament as a reconciliation 
 of man to God, and not of God to man. Thus it 
 is said, " God hath reconciled us to himself by Je- 
 sus Christ." And again, " For if when we were 
 enemies we were reconciled unto God by the death 
 of his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall 
 be saved by his life." The question, therefore, is 
 not whether God needed a mediator, but whether 
 man needed one. When the Scriptures speak of 
 the necessity and use of Christ's mediation, it is 
 always with reference to its benefits to mankind, 
 and especially to mankind in the condition in which 
 they were at his coming. 
 
 What then are some of these benefits ? 
 
 It is common to mention in this connection the 
 outward and public benefits which are to be referred 
 
THE MEDIATOE. 11 
 
 to Christ, as a great Teacher and Reformei . Chris- 
 tianity, as I suppose all will admit, is a manifest 
 improvement on the religions which preceded it, — 
 an onward step in human progress. Modern civili- 
 zation has grown out of it. Here, then, are great 
 and manifest benefits in which the whole commu- 
 nity share at this moment, believers and unbelievers. 
 And be not misled by this statement. Some may 
 think to argue from it, that if these benefits are 
 now shared by unbelievers, they do not require that 
 Christ should be accepted as a proper Mediator, 
 and ought not, therefore, to be taken into the ac- 
 count. But there is a fallacy here. You might 
 just as well say, that because the solution of a 
 difficult problem requires no study now^ having 
 become part of the common sense of the age, it re- 
 quired none in the beginning. We are tracing these 
 outward and public benefits of Christianity to their 
 source. And, viewed in this light, is it not plain that 
 the benefits of the institution presuppose the estab- 
 lishment and prevalence of the institution, — which 
 never could have been except on condition of faith 
 in the proper mediatorship of Christ ? All, there- 
 fore, is to be looked upon as the fruit of this faith, 
 though now enjoyed, to a certain extent, by those 
 who reject the faith. 
 
 Consider next the inward and 'personal benefits 
 resulting from the mediation of Christ, which al- 
 
12 THE MEDIATOR. 
 
 ways suppose faith in the participant. In a com- 
 munity nominally Christian, where all enjoy the 
 outward and public benefits of Christianity, what 
 advantage have those of us who believe in a Media- 
 tor over deists and sceptics who do not ? 
 
 In the first place, we not only have a Teacher 
 who approves himself to our judgment, but one 
 who came from God, speaking to us in the name 
 of God. Here the question is not, whether we 
 really have a Mediator acting in this capacity, but 
 whether it is not well to have one, and to be as- 
 sured of it. I am not now discussing the evidences 
 of Christianity ; I am simply answering the inquiry, 
 Why have a Mediator ? If we had one, what would 
 be gained thereby ? Certainly it is something to 
 know on authority what is God's will and purpose 
 respecting us. On this point there can certainly be 
 but one opinion. You cannot find a single serious 
 and thoughtful unbeliever, far or near, who would 
 not consider it a great thing to have his guesses 
 respecting God, eternity, and the human soul turned 
 into well-authenticated facts. Intimations are some- 
 times thrown out, as if the doctrine of a revelation 
 through a Mediator, though useful and perhaps in- 
 dispensable in the early ages of the world, is gradu- 
 ally becoming obsolete, or at least comparatively 
 unnecessary. But it is not so. A change in rela- 
 tion to this matter there obviously is. What was 
 
THE MEDIATOR. 13 
 
 most wanted in the beginning was information; 
 what is most wanted now is evidence; — not that 
 we may be saved from our errors, but from our 
 doubts. The need, therefore, though not precisely 
 the same, is nevertheless just as real, and just as 
 great, now as formerly. 
 
 And this is not all. The Christian doctrine of the 
 Mediator is, "that God was in Christ reconciling 
 the world unto himself." " The Word was made 
 flesh, and dwelt among us." Unhappily the Church 
 has taken this mystery of the incarnation, which as 
 a mystery means a great deal, and turned it into 
 an unintelligible dogma, which means nothing. The 
 Bible never speaks of two natures in Christ, or of 
 his being God and man at the same time ; but it 
 represents him again and again as being a mani- 
 festation of God, — "the brightness of his glory, and 
 the express image of his person." And this view, 
 this conviction, has important practical bearings, and 
 never more so than in the existing state of the 
 highest human thought. It is not enough consid- 
 ered that we have no proper manifestation of the 
 Living God except in Jesus Christ. We are some- 
 times said to see God in nature ; but it is not so, 
 even figuratively; we do not see Hint there, we 
 only see his footprints, — we see where he has been. 
 We do not see in the material universe the Divine 
 wisdom and goodness, we only see their effects; 
 
14 THE MEDIATOK. 
 
 but in Christ we see the quahties themselves. We 
 see, therefore, in Christ what we worship in God ; 
 so that, without confounding them together, we can 
 worship God in and through Christ. To some 
 minds the distinction here insisted on may seem 
 less unique and significant, because other men are 
 also said in Scripture to be " made after the simili- 
 tude of God." But this similitude, when applied 
 to men in general, relates to capacities^ not to at- 
 tainments ; to what they might become, not to what 
 they do become. It is still as true as ever, that 
 Christ is the only being in whom it has pleased 
 the Father that " all fulness should dwell." 
 
 At the same time, it is this very fact, namely, 
 that the Divine Presence is vouchsafed to us in 
 a person of capacities like our own, which consti- 
 tutes the peculiar fitness of the Christian Mediator. 
 What do men want ? Not a confounding together, 
 but a coming together, of God and man, a meeting, 
 if I may so express it, half-way, to be attended by 
 the double benefit of bringing God down, so that 
 he can be included within the scope of human 
 sympathies, and lifting man up, so that he can be- 
 come a partaker of the Divine holiness. Add to 
 this, that by recognizing God in Christ we are natu- 
 rally led to contemplate and approach the Infinite 
 One under the aspect of his personal qualities and 
 relations ; by which we may hope that the strong 
 
THE MEDIATOR. 15 
 
 pantheistic tendency of modern thouglit will be coun- 
 teracted. Science, with the ever enlarging sweep of 
 its generalizations, is reducing all to order and 
 unity ; and the danger is, that men will stop there, 
 that, filled with the spirit of science, and not with 
 the spirit of faith and love, they will fall down 
 and worship Order and Unity ; at any rate, that a 
 vague notion of a Pantheistic Mind, or of a so- 
 called " Soul of the Universe," may take the place 
 of a belief in the living and true God. Hence, I 
 insist, the necessity, and the growing necessity, of a 
 Divine Mediator, whose very coming reveals God to 
 us, not as the order of the universe, but as its con- 
 scious Source and Lord, — a Divine Mediator through 
 whom this God is continually pleading with us to 
 be reconciled to him, not merely as order and law, 
 but as a loving Father. 
 
 One question more. Supposing it to be conceded 
 that we need a Mediator, and such a Mediator as 
 has been described, why also a suffering Mediator? 
 There can be no doubt that the language used in 
 the New Testament, and especially in the Epistle 
 to the Hebrews, in speaking of the sacrificial im- 
 port of Christ's sufferings and death, must be inter- 
 preted with a constant reference to Jewish institu- 
 tions and modes of thought. Accordingly, where 
 no regard is paid to this caution, we must expect 
 that texts true in a literal sense will often be mixed 
 
16 THE MEDIATOR. 
 
 up with texts true in a figurative sense, from which 
 inferences will be drawn not true in any sense. 
 Still, it is no purpose of mine to detract aught 
 from the merit or the significance of Christ's suffer- 
 ings, undergone, directly or indirectly, for our sal- 
 vation. 
 
 Consider, first, their effect on the Mediator him- 
 self. " For it became Him, for whom are all things, 
 and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons 
 unto glory, to make the Captain of their salvation 
 perfect through sufferings." It is a narrow and 
 low view of the purposes of our being, which makes 
 it a wonder, or a perplexity, that the good should 
 suffer. In this way the good are made better ; nay, it 
 is only in this way that the great virtues of a brave 
 endurance, and a noble self-sacrifice, can be won, 
 or the serene and unearthly peace and joy which 
 these virtues alone can inspire. Accordingly, in 
 reading the narrative of the Evangelists, I think 
 we can see evidence of our Lord's character be- 
 coming more gentle and tender and self-sacrificing 
 under the discipline of hardship and sorrow. At 
 any rate, we must admit the fact, for it is ex- 
 pressly asserted by the Apostle ; he was made per- 
 fect by suffering, thereby showing that even his 
 wonderful life is no exception to the law which 
 makes the baptism of Christian goodness to be a 
 baptism, not of water, but " of the Holy Spirit and 
 of fire." 
 
THE MEDIATOK. 17 
 
 Consider, also, the moral power which the suffer- 
 ings of the Mediator have given him over his follow- 
 ers, and over the world. We lay stress on his 
 miracles, and Divine authority, and perfect charac- 
 ter ; and we do well, for all these are essential to 
 the completeness of our idea of one who is to lead 
 us to God. These give the right to reign : after 
 all, however, it is the thought that he voluntarily 
 bowed himself to pain, indignity, and death for 
 our sakes, which actually enthrones him in the hearts 
 of men. Tliere are those who will question his 
 miracles, demur at his authority, mock his virtues ; 
 but never one who can be made to see and enter 
 into the nature and extent and spirit of his suffer- 
 ings and sacrifices, without being touched and 
 melted by the appeal. It is thus that " through 
 his poverty we are made rich." 
 
 If I were to stop here, enough has already been 
 said to vindicate the ways of God, in appointing a 
 Mediator who can be touched by a sense of our 
 infirmities, — "a man of sorrows and acquainted 
 with grief." But I cannot help thinking that the 
 general tenor of the New Testament teacliings on 
 this subject, and the moral and religious instincts 
 of the human heart, go further. They testify to the 
 fact, that heaven as well as earth is moved by the 
 spectacle of such sufferings, endured by so holy a 
 being, and from such love. I have nothing to do 
 
18 THE MEDIATOK. 
 
 here with dogmas which have been fiercely con- 
 tested in the Church. I do not say that these 
 sufferings were necessary to make God placable ; for 
 this would seem to imply that he had been impla- 
 cable before. I do not say that they are neces- 
 sary to make repentance and reformation available ; 
 for it seems to me, that all justice is satisfied on 
 sincere repentance and real reformation except vin- 
 dictive justice, — the justice of retaliation or revenge. 
 But this I say, with all reverence and humility ; 
 a compassionate God may be, and I believe is, 
 made more compassionate still by the intercessions 
 of such a Mediator for the frail and erring beings 
 whom he is said, in the emphatic language of Scrip- 
 ture, to have redeemed, ransomed, bought by his 
 own blood. 
 
 You may insist that this whole subject is in- 
 volved in mystery, and that you are tired of mys- 
 tery. But you cannot get rid of mystery, even if 
 you would ; it attaches to every point of the higher 
 life in man ; life itself is a mystery, and death a 
 still greater mystery. And besides, do not object 
 to mystery from confounding it with what is not 
 mystery. A mystery, as that term is here used, 
 is not an unintelligible proposition, or a proposition 
 of any kind. It is a fact comprehended but in 
 part, — half understood, and half not understood. 
 That part which we cannot understand, we leave 
 
THE MEDIATOR. 19 
 
 with the secret things which belong to the Lord 
 our God ; that part which we can understand we 
 use for instruction and edification ; and it teaches 
 us in this case, " that God was in Christ, recon- 
 ciling the world unto himself, not imputing their 
 trespasses unto them; and hath committed unto us 
 the word of reconciliation. Now then we are am- 
 bassadors for Christ; as though God did beseech 
 you by us, we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye 
 reconciled to God." 
 
THE EYEELASTING GOSPEL 
 
 UPON THIS EOCK I WILL BUILD MY CHURCH; AND THE GATES OP 
 HELL SHALL NOT PREVAIL AGAINST IT. — Matthew XVi. 18. 
 
 Vicissitude, we often say, and with the daily 
 proof of it before our eyes, is stamped on all earthly 
 things. Is it so with Christianity ? Customs and in- 
 stitutions, dynasties and nations, systems of govern- 
 ment, systems of philosophy, and systems of religion, 
 have passed away, or are passing away. Have we 
 any reason to believe, or to fear, that Christianity 
 must also submit to the same law? 
 
 This is not a new question. John the Baptist, 
 having been left to languish in prisan for several 
 months, sent two of his disciples to Jesus with the 
 inquiry, " Art thou He that should come, or do we 
 look for another ? " A momentary cloud of de- 
 spondency would seem to have passed over the mind 
 of our Lord himself when he said, " Nevertheless, 
 when the Son of Man cometh, shall he find faith 
 on the earth ? " And so with many of his sincere 
 followers in all ages. They have not begun by 
 
THE E^^:ELASTIXG GOSPEL. 21 
 
 doubting the Divine origin of Christianity, or its 
 essential reasonableness, or its moral beauty and sub- 
 limity, or its unspeakable importance in a practical 
 point of view. Their distrust, their misgivings, have 
 had another origin. They have looked — and, as they 
 thought, in vain, or almost in vain — for the prom- 
 ised and expected fruit. Nearly two thousand years 
 have elapsed since angelic voices chanted the hymn : 
 ^' Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, 
 good-will toward men." A cry was also heard : 
 " Repent, for the kingdom of Heaven is at hand.'''' 
 Nearly two thousand years, — a long period, even 
 for the unfolding of such issues ; yet what do we 
 see. Is the promise fulfilled ? Is the prophecy ac- 
 complished ? Individuals, no doubt, can here and 
 there be found, who are penetrated and filled with 
 the Christian spirit; but when we look at society at 
 large, when we look at what is called the Christian 
 world, where is the nation, where is the commu- 
 nity, where is the party or the sect, which as a 
 whole, or even generally, is Christian except in 
 name? Can we wonder, then, that good men, dis- 
 couraged and disheartened by the slow progress of 
 things, and by the ill success of many a well-devised 
 plan of improvement or reform, should sometimes be 
 tempted to fear that Christianity itself, at least in 
 much that was expected from it, may turn out a 
 failure, — in short, that it has had its day ? 
 
22 THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 
 
 The common argument to prove the groundless- 
 ness of this fear may be stated in a few words. 
 Christianity is the truth, and truth is indestructible ; 
 nay, as knowledge increases, all minds must by neces- 
 sity gravitate towards it. Moreover, Christianity is 
 of Divine origin, and is founded on miracles. We 
 must presume, therefore, that the same Almighty 
 Being who founded it will continue to uphold it, 
 even though miracles should again be necessary for 
 that purpose ; especially as we have express as- 
 surance in the text to the same effect : " Upon 
 this Rock I will build my Church ; and the gates 
 of hell shall not prevail against it." 
 
 Now it is no part of my plan to call in question 
 the soundness of this argument ; much less, that 
 of the conclusion to which it leads. Still there are 
 two considerations which make it proper not to rest 
 in this argument, but to pursue the investigation a 
 little further. 
 
 In the first place, what is here said of Chris- 
 tianity may also be said, with little or no abate- 
 ment, of Judaism. Judaism is understood to be of 
 Divine origin, and, in so far as it is so, the truth. 
 Moreover, the old revelation is understood to be 
 founded on miracles, as well as the new ; and the 
 promise that it should be perpetual is quite as ex- 
 plicit, and more frequent. Thus, to Abraham: 
 " And I will establish my covenant between me and 
 
THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 23 
 
 thee, and thy seed after thee, in their generations, 
 for an everlasting covenant, to be a God unto thee, 
 and to thy seed after thee ; and I will give unto 
 thee, and to thy seed after thee, the land wherein 
 thou art a stranger, and all the land of Canaan, 
 for an everlasting possession.^^ This promise is re- 
 newed again and again to Moses and Aaron, and 
 afterwards by the mouth of the prophets, in such 
 words as these : " Thy people also shall be all right- 
 eous ; they shall inherit the land forever. '''' And 
 again : " The Lord shall reign over them in Mount 
 Zion from henceforth^ even for ever. '''' I am aware 
 of the turn given to these passages by the commen- 
 tators. They say, and no doubt truly, that this 
 promise was made with a tacit understanding, with 
 an implied condition ; namely, that the Jews should 
 be faithful on their part. The promise, therefore, 
 has not been broken ; for though it has failed, it 
 has been through the unfaithfulness of the Jews. 
 Be it so. Why then may not the same thing 
 happen in respect to Christianity ? God, of course, 
 will not break any of his promises ; nevertheless, may 
 not the promise of perpetuity fail under the new 
 covenant, as we know it did under the old, and 
 for the same reason, — because an implied condition 
 has not been fulfilled, or, in other words, through 
 the unfaithfulness of Christians ? 
 
 A second reason for not restino: content with the 
 
24 THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 
 
 bare statement of the argument, as given above, is 
 found in the natural desire to strengthen and for- 
 tify our faith, though founded on acknowledged Di- 
 vine authority, by proofs and illustrations drawn 
 fi'om other sources. How many sermons have been 
 preached to Christian congregations in order to con- 
 vince men of the efficacy of prayer, or of a life to 
 come ! Yet all know that both these doctrines are 
 expressly taught in the Scriptures ; and all believe, 
 or profess to believe, that the Scriptures are the 
 Word of God. In such cases we are far from thinking 
 that faith can be dispensed with ; in respect to many 
 things we must "walk by faith, not by sight," and 
 the more entire and unreserved this faith, the better. 
 Still, it unquestionably gives new force and vivacity 
 to what we believe on authority, even though it be 
 on the highest authority, if we can be made to see 
 that what we thus believe on authority falls in also 
 with what we know by our own reason and expe- 
 rience. As regards practical e^ect, quite as much 
 depends on its seeming' to be a fact, as on our 
 believing it to be a fact; on its verisimilitude, as 
 on its truth. 
 
 It is, therefore, from no distrust of the authority 
 of Scripture, but for other reasons, that we would 
 push the inquiry a little further, and ask whether 
 there is not something in the very nature of Chris- 
 tianity, and peculiar to it, to reassure us that it 
 
THE EVEELASTING GOSPEL. 25 
 
 will never be destroyed by the prevalence of irre- 
 ligion, nor supplanted by any other religion pur- 
 porting to be truer or more Divine. 
 
 In the first place, if we attentively consider the 
 essential nature of Christianity, we can hardly fail 
 to be struck with one remarkable peculiarity. Un- 
 like every other historical and authoritative religion, 
 not excepting Judaism, it is neither a political con- 
 stitution, nor a prescribed ritual, nor a doctrinal 
 system, nor a code of laws ; but a body of prin- 
 ciples, to act as the unfolding germs of a higher 
 type of moral and spiritual life. Neither the pur- 
 pose nor the tendency of these principles is to ar- 
 rest society at any stage of its progress, but rather 
 to help on that progress indefinitely, — partaking 
 of the progress themselves, inasmuch as, though the 
 principles remain the same, they will be better and 
 better understood, and more and more wisely applied. 
 
 Let me explain what I mean ; and first, as re- 
 gards worship, including all those duties and hopes 
 which spring out of our immediate relations to 
 God, and our direct intercourse with Him. You 
 know how it was, in this respect, with the great 
 historical religions which preceded Christianity, — 
 the religions of India, of Egypt, of Greece, of Rome. 
 Each consisted, for the most part, of an outward 
 ceremonial, the details of which were appointed and 
 regulated to the minutest particular by law or cus- 
 
 2 
 
26 THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 
 
 torn, and any departure therefrom, whether con- 
 sciously or unconsciously, was looked upon as more 
 likely than anything else to incense the gods. 
 Were their armies routed and slain by the enemy, 
 was there evil in the city, was there famine or 
 pestilence, the excited imagination of the people 
 was almost sure to charge it upon some change or 
 some neglect in the sacred rites. The same is true 
 to a considerable extent of Judaism, as every one 
 must see on turning over the pages of the Levitical 
 code ; neither is it any objection to a religion in- 
 tended to be preparatory, and therefore to pass 
 away, or be superseded by another. But in the 
 New Testament an essentially different view of 
 worship is inculcated. " Jesus saith unto her, Wo- 
 man, believe me, the hour cometh when ye shall 
 neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem^ 
 worship the Father. Ye worship ye know not what : 
 we know what we worship ; for salvation is of the 
 Jews. But the hour cometh, and now is, when the 
 true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit 
 and in truth : for the Father seeketh such to worship 
 him. God is a spirit ; and they that worship him 
 must worship him in spirit and in truth." Ac- 
 cordingly, the triumph of Christianity is not to be 
 regarded merely as the triumph of one ritual over 
 another ritual ; it is the triumph of religion over 
 all rituals, except in so far as one or another may 
 
THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 27 
 
 be tliouglit useful for the decencies and conven- 
 iences of worship in a particular church. Under 
 Christianity, the place, the time, the outward form, 
 are nothing in themselves considered ; it is enough 
 if the worship is true and spiritual, these words to 
 be interpreted according to the highest conceptions 
 of tlie true and the spiritual that shall, at any 
 time, have been attained. 
 
 Turning next to the ethical, as distinguished 
 from the devotional, element in Christianity, the 
 same peculiarity reappears. In the primitive and 
 preparatory religions, morality is taught almost ex- 
 clusively, when it is taught at all, in the form of 
 certain outward actions enjoined, and certain other 
 outward actions forbidden. The morality of the 
 Mosaic dispensation, an admirable summary of which 
 is given in the Ten Commandments, is of this kind. 
 Scarcely a word is said in that compend about in- 
 ward principles and dispositions, or about virtues 
 and vices, as such; but the people are expressly 
 told what to do, and what not to do; — doubtless 
 the best and only practicable course to be taken in 
 a rude age. In the more spiritual tone of the later 
 prophets we behold the morning twilight of a better 
 day ; which they foretold, and to some extent an- 
 ticipated, as one when God would " put his law in 
 men's inward parts, and write it on their hearts." 
 And that day has come. Of course you will under- 
 
28 THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 
 
 stand me to speak in this connection of Christian 
 morality ; — not of the actual morality of Christians, 
 but of what the morality of Christians ought to be 
 according to the Gospel. 
 
 A glance at the Sermon on the Mount, and es- 
 {)ecially at the Beatitudes in which the doctrine and 
 spirit of that sermon is summed up, must convince 
 every unprejudiced mind, that we have here, not 
 merely a higher cast and style of morality than had 
 been hitherto known, but also an essentially differ- 
 ent manner of moral inculcation. The stress is no 
 longer laid, as before, on the outward act, or the 
 specific and arbitrary rule, but on the purpose, the 
 intention, the thought. The outward action is still 
 as important as ever ; but it is so, in a moral point 
 of view, merely because it expresses or involves 
 some good or bad inward principle or disposition. 
 Accordingly, under the Gospel, the moral injunction 
 is laid directly on the inward principle or dispo- 
 sition : in other words, it is not said, as it was " to 
 them of old time," " Thou shalt not steal," " Thou 
 shalt not kill," " Thou shalt not bear false witness 
 against thy neighbor ; " but rather, " Blessed are 
 the meek," " Blessed are the merciful," " Blessed 
 are the pure in heart." The inward principle or 
 disposition is insisted on, and each individual is ex- 
 pected and required to manifest the same in such 
 manner as the highest moral and spiritual culture 
 
THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. ' 29 
 
 for the time being may dictate or approve. The 
 merciful man of to-day may live up to a higher 
 conception of what mercy means and includes, than 
 the merciful man of five centuries ago ; still he is 
 but a merciful man after all ; he does no more than 
 what is required ; he does not, and he cannot, tran- 
 scend or outgrow the Christian rule. 
 
 Thus does Christianity, as regards both worship 
 and obedience, link itself to the great law of human 
 progress, and partake of that progress. No real or 
 possible growth of society and the human mind can 
 ever have the effect to outgrow Christianity, inas- 
 much as the actual Christianity will grow along 
 with it. I do not mean that Christianity, consid- 
 ered in itself, can ever differ from what it is, or 
 from what it was in the beginning ; but the actual 
 Christianity may, — nay, m2/5^, in proportion as men 
 understand its principles better, and enter more en- 
 tirely into its spirit. 
 
 We shall also arrive at the same general conclu- 
 sion, if, instead of considering the kind of piety and 
 righteousness inculcated in the New Testament, we 
 look at the Example we are to follow, or at the 
 great practical authority which makes imitation of 
 that example binding on the soul. 
 
 Cicero's complaint respecting the founders of pa- 
 gan systems of .religion and pliilosophy is well 
 known. " Who is there among them all," he asks, 
 
30 THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 
 
 " whose practical principles, temper, and conduct 
 were conformable to right reason ? Who ever re- 
 garded his philosophy as a law and rule of life, 
 and not rather as an ostentation of his ability and 
 learning ? Who ever obeyed his own instructions, 
 and made his precepts the model of his own daily 
 practice ? " But with Christ it is not so, infidels 
 themselves being the judges. By universal consent 
 his doctrine and life are one. His character was 
 a living impersonation of what he taught, thus be- 
 coming of the nature of a new and supplementary 
 revelation, because it shows how the various Chris- 
 tian graces should exist and act together, qualify- 
 ing each other, balancing each other, complementing 
 and perfecting each other. The need of some such 
 authenticated pattern or presentation of the char- 
 acter required, not in its separate ingredients but 
 as a whole, was felt long before the coming of 
 Christ ; and the Stoics thought to supply it by the 
 fiction of what they called their Sage or Wise Man. 
 But this well-meant expedient failed in two obvious 
 particulars. In the first place, their Wise Man was 
 not a reality, having authority over them, but a 
 fiction constructed by themselves ; and secondly, 
 as it was nothing more than a fanciful embodiment 
 of the doctrines of a particular sect in a particular 
 age, it was sure to pass away with the age and 
 sect which gave it birth. And so it did. 
 
THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 31 
 
 Widely different is it with the character of Christ, 
 — the living, the absolute, the Divine pattern and 
 standard set forth in the Gospel. This might be 
 illustrated in a thousand ways ; but the point of 
 distinction to which alone I wish to call your at- 
 tention now is, that the great Christian Exemplar 
 can never become obsolete, can never lose either 
 its use or its authority. 
 
 It is to no purpose to say that the character of 
 Christ is what it is ; that it represents a fixed quan- 
 tity, a stationary object, while society and the human 
 mind are constantly moving on. You might just 
 as well say the same of Nature. You might just 
 as well say that Nature is what it is ; that it repre- 
 sents a fixed quantity, a stationary object, while 
 society and the human mind are constantly moving 
 on. But does Nature ever become obsolete ? What 
 become obsolete are men^s views of Nature ; and 
 these become so, only because they are superseded 
 and displaced by juster and more profound views. 
 So it is with the character of Christ. 
 
 What more perhaps than anything else distinguish- 
 es the believing and earnest man of all times is his 
 aspiration after an ideal good, an inextinguishable 
 longing to realize his conception of the highest and 
 the best. Now one of the purposes and one of the 
 effects of the moral character exhibited in the life 
 of Jesus is to help such persons not merely to 
 
32 THE EVEELASTING GOSPEL. 
 
 realize this conception, but also to elevate and 
 purify the conception itself, inspiring them with the 
 idea of a higher highest, and of a better best, than 
 they could have unfolded from their own minds, or 
 from any merely verbal description. And this is 
 not all. Though in a much nobler sense, and to 
 much more exalted issues, it is the same with the 
 study of the Christian model of holiness as with 
 the study of the finest models in art. Not only 
 are susceptible minds excited and instructed by the 
 first impression of the model, but by the continual 
 study of it, by a growing familiarity and sympathy 
 with it, they are able to see more and more in the 
 model itself. In this way the example of Christ, 
 as well as his teachings, his life as well as his word, 
 becomes not merely a perpetual revelation, but a 
 perpetually progressive revelation, forever keeping 
 pace with the progressive receptivities of those to 
 whom it is addressed. Let the world grow as much 
 wiser as it may, the wisest and best men in it will 
 always be among the foremost to acknowledge, that 
 " God, who commanded the light to shine out of 
 darkness, has shined in our hearts, to give the light 
 of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face 
 of Jesus Christ." 
 
 Meanwhile, and for the same reason, the moral, 
 the practical authority, of the Gospel, the author- 
 ity which gives effect to the whole, must also bo 
 on the increase, and not on the decline. 
 
THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 33 
 
 When men refer to the authority on which Chris- 
 tianity rests, I believe they commonly mean its his- 
 torical authority, the authority of the record as a 
 genuine and trustworthy narrative of what actually 
 took place eighteen and a half centuries ago. Ee- 
 stricting themselves to this narrow and unspiritual 
 view of authority in things heavenly and Divine, we 
 need not wonder if they should sometimes fall into 
 the error of supposing that this authority must 
 gradually, and in the lapse of ages, lose its hold on 
 the human mind. One writer,* and he neither an 
 enemy nor a sceptic, has gone so far as to make 
 this process a matter of mathematical calculation, 
 his conclusion being that the probability of the New 
 Testament narrative will entirely cease at the end 
 of 3,150 years, reckoning from the birth of Christ ; 
 and consequently, that this will be the epoch when 
 the Son of God will come to judge the world, be- 
 cause then, according to Luke, chap, viii, ver. 8, 
 there will be no more faith on the earth. Let such 
 vagaries pass for what they are worth. I do not 
 shut my eyes on the importance and necessity of 
 the historical authority of Christianity ; neither am 
 I under any apprehensions that it will ever fail ; 
 but this I say, unless sustained, or at least con- 
 curred in, by the moral and practical authority, it 
 would not, it could not stand. If the monkish 
 
 * John Craig, in his Tkeologice Ckristiance Principia Mathematica. 
 2* G 
 
34 THE EVEELASTING GOSPEL. 
 
 legends of the Middle Ages, if the coarse and vul- 
 gar pretences to the supernatural in our own day, 
 are urged upon us as entitled to credence, because 
 supported by a greater amount of historical evi- 
 dence than can be adduced in proof of some of the 
 Christian miracles, my answer is, in the words of 
 Locke, the praise of whose humble faith and sobriety 
 of judgment is in everybody's mouth : " The mira- 
 cles are to be judged by the doctrine, and not the 
 doctrine by the miracles."* 
 
 So far as our faith in revelation dependg on tra- 
 dition alone, whether oral or written, there can be 
 no doubt, I suppose, that time must do something 
 to wear away its freshness and vitality. But nothing 
 hinders this loss from being made up, and more 
 than made up, in other ways ; — in the case of 
 Christianity, by the fulfilment of prophecy, by con- 
 tinued opportunity to submit its claims to a prac- 
 tical test, by its triumphs, by its fruits. In order 
 to excuse our own doubts and misgivings we are 
 apt to over-estimate the advantages which the early 
 converts had over us, and to under-estimate the 
 advantages which we have over them, as regards 
 the Christian evidences. When the apostles were 
 arraigned before the Council at Jerusalem, you re- 
 member the ground taken by Gamaliel, " a doctor of 
 the law, had in reputation among all the people " : 
 
 * Lord King's Life of John Locke, Yol. I. p. 234. 
 
THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 35 
 
 "And now 1 say unto you, Refrain from these 
 men, and let tliem alone ; for if this counsel or 
 this work be of men, it will come to naught, but 
 if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it." Strange 
 as it may seem, he does not appear to have been 
 much affected, one way or another, by what had 
 already taken place : he makes everything turn on 
 the question. Will it stand? Now it has stood. 
 More than that ; whatever we may say or think 
 about its inward triumphs, its outward triumphs 
 are unquestioned and complete. At this very mo- 
 ment the whole civilized world are glorifying the 
 advent of the Son of Mary, — of Him, who while 
 upon earth knew not where to lay his head, the 
 Crucified One. Who does not perceive that the 
 men of that day, Jews and Gentiles, would have 
 poured into the Church by thousands and tens of 
 thousands, if they had foreseen, if they had even 
 so much as suspected, what we know? 
 
 After all, however, the faith which is built on 
 any form of external evidence, is a faith of the un- 
 derstanding, and not necessarily of the heart; a 
 faith, moreover, which a man of a base heart may 
 attain, his heart remaining unchanged. What we 
 want is a living and saving faith in Christianity, 
 which consists, not in believing or knowing that the 
 Gospel is true, but in feeling the force of the 
 truths which the Gospel teaches; and this cannot 
 
S6 THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 
 
 be, until our hearts are brought into communion 
 and sympathy with them ; and this, again, is the 
 work, not of books on the evidences, but of Chris- 
 tian nurture. What is true of God in Nature, is 
 true also of God in History and God in Christ; — 
 to apprehend Divinity anywhere, in anything, so as 
 to be vitally affected thereby, we must first be put 
 into communication with it, through the develop- 
 ment of what is divine in our own souls. Did our 
 Lord mean nothing when he said : " My doctrine 
 is not mine, but His that sent me ; if any man will 
 do His will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether 
 it be of God, or whether I speak of myself" ? Does 
 any one suppose that holy and devout men, men 
 who know Christianity from the life and have made 
 great progress in that life, ask for any better evi- 
 dence of its truth than they can find in themselves ? 
 Whence then this modern conceit, that we are 
 growing so wise and good as to be in danger of 
 outgrowing Christianity ? Undoubtedly there is a 
 culture of the understanding and of the taste, which 
 will make a great scholar, or a great artist, or 
 a great man of business, without bringing him 
 any nearer to the kingdom of God ; but it is be- 
 cause the culture is limited and one-sided. Make 
 it to be the culture of the whole man, and the 
 higher the culture, the stronger and the purer the 
 faith. 
 
THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 37 
 
 If these things are so, it follows incontestably that 
 Christianity is not a passing phase of society, a re- 
 ligion very well for its time, a single stage in hu- 
 man progress, which, like every other such stage, 
 must have its beginning, its middle, and its end. 
 It is " an everlasting possession." This I have 
 shown to follow from the fact that Christianity is 
 true and Divine, and from the express teaching of 
 Scripture. But I have not stopped there. I have 
 also shown it to follow from the nature of the re- 
 ligion itself, and from the character of its Founder, 
 and from the adjustment of both to the essential 
 and indestructible needs and capacities of the hu- 
 man soul. In proportion as Christianity educates 
 men up to a level with its own teachings, they will 
 find the witness in themselves. The deep intuitions 
 of our spiritual nature, once awakened by the Gos- 
 pel, will shine in their own light, and shine on 
 forever. 
 
 Jesus of Nazareth is looked up to, not as the 
 head of a new school in philosophy, not as the 
 founder of a new dynasty, or a new state, but as 
 the Father of a New Age. Modern civilization is 
 built on the great movement which he began ; and 
 this civilization would be shaken to its base, would 
 tumble into ruins, were faith in Him to fail. But 
 it never will. We may wonder at the slow pro- 
 gress of things ; but it is because they are in the 
 
38 THE EVERLASTING GOSPEL. 
 
 hands of Him with whom " one day is as a thousand 
 years, and a thousand years as one day." We may 
 wonder at the errors and folUes, at the divisions 
 and strifes which have prevailed, and still prevail 
 among Christians; but to say that all this struggle 
 between good and evil, between light and darkness, 
 is to end in nothing, would be worse than a belief 
 in atheism; it would be atheism acted out. Every- 
 where, and over all is heard that voice at which 
 the storms were hushed, and the dead raised: 
 *' Upon this rock I will build my Church ; and the 
 gates of hell shall not prevail against it." " Heaven 
 and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not 
 pass away." 
 
THE SCHOLAR AMONG THE APOSTLES. 
 
 I AM VERILY A MAN WHICH AM A JEW, BORN IN TARSUS, A CITY 
 IN CILICIA, YET BROUGHT UP IN THIS CITY, AT THE FEET OP 
 GAMALIEL, AND TAUGHT ACCORDING TO THE PERFECT MANNER 
 OF THE LAW OF THE FATHERS. — ActS Xxii. 3. 
 
 Paul was the only one among the Apostles who 
 can be said to have enjoyed the advantages of a 
 liberal education, or to have moved before his con- 
 version in the higher walks of life. I propose to 
 consider the influence of this circumstance on his 
 character, teachings, and success. 
 
 Let me begin, however, by observing, that I enter- 
 tain no disparaging views either of the social or in- 
 tellectual condition ' of the rest of the Apostles. 
 Though they cannot be said to have been learned, 
 in the sense of being scholars, like Paul, there is 
 no ground for supposing that they were especially 
 rude, ignorant, or even illiterate. They were not 
 taken from the lowest class in society; in that case 
 they would have had too much to learn : nor yet, 
 from the highest class; in that case they would 
 have had too much to unlearn. In common with 
 
40 THE SCHOLAE AMONG THE APOSTLES. 
 
 a large proportion of the first Christian teachers, 
 they were taken from the middle class ; where al- 
 most all great moral revolutions have begun, as 
 Protestantism in Germany, and Puritanism in Eng- 
 land, and where such revolutions, for obvious rea- 
 sons, must always be expected to begin. 
 
 Let me also, before going any further, anticipate 
 a general objection to the very aim of this discourse, 
 which may possibly occur to some minds. It may 
 be thought that in making Paul's conduct in his 
 apostleship to be modified or determined in any 
 way by his previous culture, I forget, or virtually 
 deny, that he was inspired. The Apostles may have 
 differed, as other men do, in their natural and 
 acquired tastes and abilities ; still it may be thought 
 that these differences could not have affected them 
 as apostles, certainly not in their teachings, inas- 
 much as they all " spake as they were moved by 
 the Holy Ghost." 
 
 In reply to this I hasten to say, that nothing is 
 further from my purpose than to call in question 
 the inspiration of the sacred writers, or to seek to 
 resolve that inspiration into natural causes. I as- 
 sume that they were divinely appointed, and di- 
 vinely illuminated, in order to become infallible 
 guides as to what is essential or important to Chris- 
 tianity. But we are not to suppose that inspira- 
 tion annihilates personality, or differences of per- 
 
THE SCHOLAE AMONG THE APOSTLES. 41 
 
 sonal endowment, even as regards teaching. In 
 fact, we know better. We caniiot open the New 
 Testament, at any rate we caimot peruse it with 
 the smallest measure of discrimination, without per- 
 ceiving that Matthew did not write like John, and 
 that neither Matthew nor John wrote like Paul. 
 From tliis we do not infer that all of them, or any 
 of them, were uninspired men. We believe them 
 all to have been supernaturally enlightened, and to 
 have thus had before them a true conception of 
 the religion they were to teach. Still in the act 
 of teaching it, we believe, or rather we cannot help 
 seeing, that one insists on one topic and another on 
 another, that one illustrates the same truth in one 
 way and another in another, that one considers it 
 in one connection and another in another, accord- 
 ing to the particular purpose he has in view, or his 
 peculiar bent of mind, or his skill, or his want of 
 skill, as a writer. 
 
 I return, then, to a consideration of Paul's con- 
 dition in life and early training, and the influence 
 they appear to have had on his conduct and suc- 
 cess. 
 
 Though of Hebrew descent, he was born at Tar- 
 sus, in Cilicia, — "a citizen of no mean city." Stra- 
 bo, a contemporary of Paul, says of the inhabitants 
 of this place, who were mostly Greeks, that they 
 "cherish such a passion for philosophy, and all the 
 
42 THE SCHOLAR AMONG THE APOSTLES. 
 
 various branches of polite letters, as greatly to ex- 
 cel Athens and Alexandria, and every other place 
 in which there are schools and academies of phi- 
 losophy and erudition. But Tarsus differs in this ; 
 those who here devote themselves to the study of 
 literature are natives of the country ; not many 
 come from foreign parts. Nor do the natives of the 
 country continue here for life, but they go abroad 
 to finish their studies, and when they have perfected 
 themselves, they choose to live in other places : there 
 are but few who return home." * The course pur- 
 sued by Paul illustrates in a striking manner these 
 statements of the old geographer. The first years 
 of his life were passed in his native city, where he 
 could not fail to profit by the facilities he enjoyed 
 to become acquainted with Greek society, Greek 
 literature and the Greek mind. His condition in 
 life was evidently such as to bring these advantages 
 within his reach ; for he says expressly that he 
 was "born" a Roman citizen, — a distinction his 
 family is supposed to have obtained by purchase at 
 an exorbitant price, or else as the reward of im- 
 portant public service : in either case it argues a 
 family of consideration. Moreover, to have coveted 
 such a distinction, the privileges of Roman citizen- 
 ship, argues a family not shut up within the narrow 
 bounds of Jewish prejudice. 
 
 * Geographica, Lib.- xiv. Cap. X. 13. 
 
THE SCHOLAR AMONG THE APOSTLES. 43 
 
 However this may be, it is certain that in due 
 time, and before attaining to manhood, Paul fol- 
 lowed the practice which Strabo says was so com- 
 mon with the students of Tarsus, he went abroad 
 to complete his education. As " a Hebrew of the 
 Hebrews," as " a Pharisee, the son of a Pharisee," 
 he repaired, of course, to Jerusalem, still the centre 
 of Hebrew tradition and Hebrew learning ; where he 
 joined the school of Gamaliel, the most distinguished 
 at that time among the doctors of his nation, and 
 was brought up at his feet, being " taught accord- 
 ing to the perfect manner of the law of the fathers." 
 Here, his proficiency and zeal were such as to at- 
 tract the attention of the leading men at Jerusa- 
 lem ; so much so, that they did not hesitate to 
 intrust him, soon afterwards, young as he yet was, 
 with commissions which they miist have known re- 
 quired not a little of resolution and address. Ac- 
 cordingly he says on one occasion : "I profited in 
 the Jews' religion above many mine equals in mine 
 own nation, being more exceedingly zealous of the 
 traditions." And again : '' I persecuted this way 
 unto the death, binding and delivering into prisons 
 both men and women ; as also the High Priest 
 doth bear me witness, and all the estate of the 
 elders: from whom also I received letters unto the 
 brethren, and went to Damascus, to bring them 
 which were there bound unto Jerusalem, to be 
 punished." 
 
44 THE SCHOLAE AMONG THE APOSTLES. 
 
 Some have wondered that Paul, after having had 
 his mind enlarged and liberahzed by study, — es- 
 pecially under such a teacher as Gamaliel, who ap- 
 pears to have counselled moderation and forbear- 
 ance in respect to the new religion, — should have 
 become so unwearied and relentless a persecutor of 
 the Church. But they forget two things. In the 
 first place, they forget that a spirit of moderation, 
 is generally much more a matter of temperament, 
 than of instruction or education. Again, they for- 
 get that persecution is of two kinds : some perse- 
 cuting from policy, because their craft is in danger ; 
 others from an honest dread of what they believe 
 to be pernicious error, — because they think that 
 religion, morality, order, the best interests of man- 
 kind, are in danger. I am aware that, in practice, 
 we seldom meet with either of these two kinds of 
 persecution wholly unmixed with the other; still 
 history affords some examples, — for instance, that 
 of Sir Thomas More, — where the latter kind, which 
 we may call conscientious persecution, was com- 
 paratively pure. And so with Paul; for he tells 
 us, after his conversion, " I verily thought with my- 
 self, that I ought to do many things contrary to 
 the name of Jesus of Nazareth. '* We also have the 
 evidence of his after life to the same effect. The 
 moment he was convinced that the new doctrine 
 was from God, his love of truth showed itself to 
 
THE SCHOLAR AMONG THE APOSTLES. 45 
 
 be stronger than his prejudices, or his party ties, 
 or his worldly ambition ; and from being the per- 
 secutor of Christianity, he became the most active 
 and successful of its advocates and missionaries. I 
 do not make these distinctions in order to justify 
 the conduct of Paul, while a Jew;. he never thought 
 to justify, or even to excuse it, to himself; — but 
 simply to set it in its true light. It did not spring, 
 like most persecution, from an essentially bad prin- 
 ciple, but from the perversion of an essentially good 
 principle ; — a perversion, moreover, to which a young 
 and ardent scholar, fresh from his studies, and burn- 
 ing with desire to signalize his zeal for what he 
 had been taught, was peculiarly liable. 
 
 All are familiar with the miraculous circumstances 
 which attended the conversion of Paul, while on his 
 way to Damascus, and also with the fact, just in- 
 timated, that he " was not disobedient to the heaven- 
 ly vision." And here it is difficult, if not impos- 
 sible, to avoid the conclusion, that the preparation 
 of Paul up to this time had been by the special 
 ordering of Divine Providence ; for an exigency had 
 now arisen, calling for precisely such a man, with 
 precisely such a training. As he was to be the 
 great Apostle to the Gentiles, as he was to form 
 the connecting link between the Jewish and pagan 
 •worlds, it was necessary that his education should 
 be such as to make him acquainted with Jewish 
 
46 THE SCHOLAR AMONG THE APOSTLES. 
 
 and pagan habits of life and thought, in order that 
 he might be in a condition to understand and do 
 justice to both. 
 
 First of all, we see the fruit of this culture in 
 the tlwughtfulness and deliberation with which he 
 entered on his labors. Had Paul been an ignorant 
 man, or even what is called a self-educated man, 
 he would probably have deemed himself competent 
 at once to the undertaking ; as it was, he had the 
 diffidence which belongs to men of large and com- 
 prehensive views. Accordingly his first step was to 
 retire into Arabia, where he passed three years in 
 comparative seclusion ; being occupied, for the most 
 part, as we may presume, in adjusting his mind to 
 his new experiences and his new conceptions of 
 truth, in maturing his plans and deepening the 
 foundations of his own faith and piety. It was 
 this earnest self-discipline, in conjunction with the 
 cosmopolite character of his previous training, more 
 perhaps than anything else, his miraculous powers 
 excepted, which qualified him so eminently to be- 
 come an Apostle to the Gentiles. His subsequent 
 conduct testifies to this truth. Among all nations, 
 from the most civilized to the most barbarous, with 
 all people, from the most enlightened to the most 
 ignorant, — among the wandering hordes of Arabia, 
 in the beautiful country of Asia Minor, amidst the 
 bleak and barren mountains of Thrace, with the 
 
THE SCHOLAR AMONG THE APOSTLES. 47 
 
 sceptical and philosophizing Athenians, with the cor- 
 rupt and effeminate Corinthians, in the Eternal 
 City, in Spain, even among the poor and super- 
 stitious islanders of Malta, — there was scarcely a 
 discovered spot on the face of the globe, where we 
 do not find the footprints of this unwearied apostle, 
 everywhere at home, everywhere prepared with views 
 and arguments adapted to the habits and capacities 
 of the people he addressed, everywhere preaching 
 " Jesus and the resurrection," and becoming all 
 things to all men, that he might at least save 
 some. 
 
 We also see traces of Paul's scholarship, and 
 general refinement of thought and manner, in his 
 teaching ; and especially in his style of address, 
 where rude, but well-meaning, reformers are so apt 
 to fail. He carefully abstains, as has just been 
 hinted, from giving unnecessary offence. As far as 
 compatible with conscience and his leading objects, 
 he always seeks to accommodate himself to the cus- 
 toms and prejudices of the persons addressed, com- 
 bining in a remarkable manner the severe indepen- 
 dence and uncompromising purpose of a confessor 
 and martyr with the adroitness, and oftentimes with 
 the ease and urbanity, of a man of the world. Wit- 
 ness the exordium of his celebrated defence before 
 Agrippa. " Then Paul stretched forth his hand and 
 answered for himself. I think myself happy, King 
 
48 THE SCHOLAR AMONG THE APOSTLES. 
 
 Agrippa, because I shall answer for myself this day 
 before thee, touching all the things whereof I am 
 accused of the Jews ; especially because I know thee 
 to be expert in all customs and questions which 
 are among the Jews: wherefore I beseech thee to 
 hear me patiently." And, above all, in the noble 
 burst of eloquence at the close of that discourse. 
 " Tlien Agrippa said unto Paul, ' Almost thou per- 
 suadest me to be a Christian.' And Paul said, ^ I 
 would to God, that not only thou, but also all that 
 hear me this day, were both almost, and altogether 
 such as I am, except these bonds.'' " Witness, also, 
 his address to the Athenians. It appears that Paul, 
 as his custom was, had been preaching " Jesus and 
 the Resurrection," and this, by a natural miscon- 
 ception on the part of polytheists, had been con- 
 strued into an unauthorized " setting forth of strange 
 gods," which the laws forbade under penalty of 
 death. Hence one of his objects was to undeceive 
 them in this respect, and to do it in a manner 
 which should be true in itself, and, at the same 
 time, intelligible from their point of view. Mark 
 how admirably he succeeds. " Then Paul stood in 
 the midst of Areopagus, and said : ' Ye men of 
 Athens, I perceive you altogether much given to 
 religious worship. For as I passed by and beheld 
 your devotions, I found, among others, an altar 
 with this inscription. To the Unknown God. Whom, 
 
THE SCHOLAR AMONG THE APOSTLES. 49 
 
 therefore, without knowing, ye worship. Him declare 
 I unto you.' " I have no wish to exaggerate the 
 literary merits of the sacred writers, or to put what 
 they have done on a level, in this respect, with the 
 great masterpieces of genius and art : nevertheless 
 I do not wonder, that, in a fragment ascribed by 
 some to Longinus, Paul of Tarsus is numbered 
 among the celebrated orators of Greece. 
 
 Again, we see the influence of Paul's intellectual 
 training and activity, in the logical form which the 
 Christian doctrine took under his hand. The other 
 writers of the New Testament look chiefly to prac- 
 tical wants ; Paul alone represents the logical or 
 purely intellectual want of the Church ; and he 
 represents it, because he alone, from his previous 
 mental training and habits of thought, was likely 
 to feel it. The other writers of the New Testa- 
 ment were content to give a religion to the world ; 
 he aspired to give a theology, that is, a philosophy 
 of religion, — not only what is to be believed, but 
 the reason why it is to be believed, and its connec- 
 tions with other truths, and especially with what is 
 known of the human and Divine natures. I am 
 aware that some persons are half-inclined to regret, 
 that so early an example was set in the Church 
 of an attempt to make the Gospel assume a logical 
 or scientific form. While we have but one relig- 
 ion, they will tell you, that we have a multitude 
 
 3 D 
 
60 THE SCHOLAR AMONG THE APOSTLES. 
 
 of theologies ; that these theologies have only had 
 the effect to distract and obstruct the religion ; and 
 that the Pauline theology was the first, and led the 
 way to others, or at least to varieties of itself. But 
 all such regrets are vain. A scientific spirit, a 
 passion for comprehending things, and putting all 
 knowledge in harmony with itself, in one word, 
 logical thinkings with all its consequences for weal 
 or woe, is a necessity to some minds. Very prob- 
 ably the majority of Christians would be content 
 with the devotional and practical portions of the 
 New Testament. But this to the Augustines and 
 Luthers of all ages is "milk for babes"; they turn 
 to the Epistle to the Romans and the Epistle to the 
 Galatians, as the " strong meat for men." John 
 was " the disciple whom Jesus loved " ; Paul is 
 known by another distinction, which, in the view 
 of many, is hardly less honorable, — he was the 
 great thinker in the Primitive Church. From these 
 personal differences we do not infer that the Gos- 
 pel according to Paul differed from the Gospel ac- 
 cording to John in substance, but only in form; 
 and it was doubtless best that among those who 
 were authorized to give a form, or, rather, some of 
 its various possible forms, to the Gospel, every type 
 of the human mind and character should find its 
 representative. 
 
 We find still further traces of Paul's large and 
 
THE SCHOLAE AMONG THE APOSTLES. 51 
 
 generous culture in what may be called the spirit 
 of his teaching. A large proportion of the intol- 
 erance and uncharitableness among Christians origi- 
 nates in narrow views. Enlarge men's minds, and 
 you do not a little towards enlarging their policy, 
 and sometimes even their hearts. Of this we have 
 more than one illustration in the Apostle Paul; — 
 in the readiness with which he gave up his Jewish 
 repugnance to admit the Gentiles into the Church; 
 in the magnificent eulogium on charity in his First 
 Epistle to the Corinthians ; and in the candor and 
 liberality which he recommends in the treatment 
 of weak brethren. " Him that is weak in the faith 
 receive ye, but not to doubtful disputations. One 
 man esteemeth one day above another ; another 
 esteemeth every day alike. Let every man be fully 
 persuaded in his own mind. I know, and am per- 
 suaded by the Lord Jesus, that there is nothing 
 unclean of itself; but to him that esteemeth any- 
 thing unclean, to him it is unclean. We then that 
 are strong, ought to bear the infirmities of the 
 weak, and not to please ourselves." This, certainly, 
 is the language of one, whom the study of men, as 
 well as of books, has imbued not only with the 
 love of wisdom, but with the wisdom of love. 
 Hence in all the differences which grew up among 
 the first Christians, we find Paul on the liberal 
 side. He knew how endless and profitless were 
 
62 THE SCHOLAR AMONG THE APOSTLES. 
 
 most of the contentions which divide and estrange 
 mankind. He knew, too, that neither righteousness 
 nor piety was confined to one place, or one party, 
 or one creed. For he had travelled the world 
 over ; he had seen men under every variety of cli- 
 mate and government and religion, and he had 
 found good men everywhere, and bad men every- 
 where. He felt, moreover, for his whole race, know- 
 ing that he shared with them a common frailty, 
 and they with him a common hope ; that there was 
 one Father over all, who could not but love all his 
 children. 
 
 One remark more, which may be regarded as the 
 application of the whole subject. The education 
 and social position of Paul give new force to the 
 argument for the truth of Christianity drawn from 
 his conversion. We have dwelt on the education 
 and social position of Paul, not for the purpose of 
 proving that he was a good man, or an inspired 
 man, for they prove neither ; but as evidence that 
 he was raised above many popular errors, and not 
 likely to be carried away by a mere popular ex- 
 citement. With the rest of the Apostles it was not 
 so ; much enlargement of mind, or much knowledge 
 of the world and its ways, was hardly, of course, to 
 be expected in persons of their condition in life. 
 Accordingly, had they alone, and such as they, been 
 wrought upon, it would, no doubt, have been pre- 
 
THE SCHOLAR AMONG THE APOSTLES. 53 
 
 tended that a little enthusiasm or a little craft was 
 quite sufficient to account for the success of the de- 
 lusion. But in Paul we have a man not so easily 
 to be deceived and misled, — a man whose mind had 
 been informed and enlarged by liberal studies and 
 foreign travel, — a man who could reason with phi- 
 losophers, and at whose eloquence kings trembled, — 
 a man of whom Festus said, " Paul, thou art beside 
 thyself; much learning doth make thee mad." 
 
 If we ever doubt the historical truth of our re- 
 ligion, I believe it is, generally, because we think 
 that if we had lived at the time, and on the spot, 
 we should have been able to detect some flaw in 
 the evidence. But what right have we to think we 
 could have done this, when we find it was not 
 done by Paul ? Have we any more penetration 
 than he had, or more knowledge of the world, or of 
 the weaknesses and perversities of human nature ? 
 Are we any more elevated than he was, by birth, 
 education, and standing in society, above the delu- 
 sions and credulities of the popular mind ? Should 
 we have been any more likely than he was to sus- 
 pect fanaticism or hypocrisy, or to detect pious 
 frauds ? To all these questions we must answer. 
 No. Yet this man, living at the time and on the 
 spot, was converted ; this man, from being a con- 
 scientious and thoroughly instructed Jew, became 
 a Christian ; this man, from being an enemy and 
 
54 THE SCHOLAK AMONG THE APOSTLES. 
 
 persecutor of the new faith, became its most active 
 and zealous advocate and missionary ; this man, 
 who, to all outward appearance, had everything to 
 lose, and nothing to gain by changing his religion, 
 changed it, nevertheless, on conviction, and lived 
 and died in that conviction. 
 
 There is a tradition in the Church, that Paul 
 was beheaded near Rome, and buried about two 
 miles from the city, on the Ostian Road. A magnifi- 
 cent cathedral, dedicated to his memory, was built 
 over his grave by Constantino ; but his noblest 
 monument is found in the churches which he plant- 
 ed, and, above all, in his immortal writings which 
 " are read of all men." How instructive is this 
 lesson from history ! for it shows that the most en- 
 during fame is to be found in the ways of the high- 
 est duty. If Paul had denied or stifled his con- 
 science, if he had thought only of ease and present 
 reputation, he might doubtless have taken his place 
 among the most distinguished rabbis of his nation ; 
 but who would have cared for him now ? His glory 
 is this, that he devoted his talents and learning 
 and life to the service of truth and the good of 
 mankind, — a glory as imperishable as the objects 
 for which he labored. 
 
THE ALLEGED INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 
 
 HAVE ANT OF THE RULERS, OR OF THE PHARISEES, BELIEVED 
 
 ON HIM? — John vii. 48. 
 
 "We sometimes hear insinuations thrown out 
 against a belief in Christianity, as if it were a weak- 
 ness, to which men of strong minds, especially if 
 also men of science or men of the world, must by 
 necessity be superior. Let this opinion prevail among 
 the educated and ambitious classes, and there is an 
 end to all hope that they will ever be deeply and 
 seriously affected by the Gospel. They may find it 
 prudent or convenient to pay an outward respect 
 to it, as the religion of the country ; they may even 
 do so from a sincere regard to the best interests 
 of the community ; but that they should be deeply 
 and seriously affected by it in their own hearts, while 
 entertaining such views, is out of the question. 
 
 The friends of religion, from their jealousy of hu- 
 man learning and worldly distinctions, are some- 
 times betrayed into language tending to the same 
 effect. I am aware that, in the latter case, when 
 
56 INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 
 
 infidelity and irreligion are charged upon great 
 men. it is with a view to detract from the great 
 men, and not from the rehgion of which they have 
 shown themselves unworthy. Still, if the topic is 
 frequently returned to, and dwelt upon, without 
 making the proper discriminations, it will insensibly 
 give rise, at least in most minds, to the prejudice 
 above mentioned. They will begin to suspect that 
 as knowledge advances faith recedes; and, on the 
 strength of this suspicion, their own faith will be- 
 gin to recede. Ostensibly it may not take the form 
 of an objection to the Gospel, but it will do the 
 work of an objection ; or, worse still, it will act as 
 a secret, undefined, half-unconscious misgiving. 
 
 For this reason I propose to take up and ex- 
 amine the alleged infidelity and irreligion of great 
 men. How far is this charge well-founded? and as 
 far as well founded, what does it signify? 
 
 Reasoning from general considerations alone, it 
 would be easy to show that there is no incom- 
 patibility between religion and true greatness. 
 
 Thus I might show, in the first place, that the 
 very preparation of mind necessary to make it fully 
 alive to the satisfactions, or even to the evidences 
 of spiritual truth, must also have a tendency to re- 
 fine, liberalize and enlarge the mind itself. I might 
 show, in the second place, that the leading subjects 
 of contemplation which religion brings into notice, 
 
INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 57 
 
 are of such a nature that they cannot fail to com- 
 municate something of their own weight and dig- 
 nity to the mind that is familiar with them. I 
 might show, in the third place, that the feelings 
 and dispositions, the purposes and aspirations, which 
 religion excites and calls forth, are among the 
 noblest properties of the soul, and as far as possible 
 removed from all that is low, or mean, or ordinary. 
 I might show, in the fourth place, that in a multi- 
 tude of instances the direct influence of religious 
 principle has been to lead men to acts of magna- 
 nimity and heroism, which have never been exceeded. 
 And lastly, I might show, that the most illustrious 
 names in history, the brightest ornaments of society 
 and greatest benefactors of mankind, infidels them- 
 selves being judges, liave been found among those 
 who looked to religion as the source of their high- 
 est as well as purest inspirations, and considered 
 themselves as never more truly great, than when 
 in the act of acknowledging God as their infinite 
 and loving Father. 
 
 But general reasonings of this kind meet the 
 difficulty under consideration only half way. They 
 prove indeed that there is no incompatibility between 
 true religion and real greatness ; and furthermore, 
 that many great men have been humble and de- 
 vout believers. Still the original charge may stand, 
 to this extent at least, that the proportion of great 
 
 3* 
 
68 mriDELiTY of geeat men. 
 
 men who have been infidels or sceptics, is larger 
 than that of men in ordinary life. 
 
 Is it so, however, in point of fact? 
 
 Great men are either great actors, or great think- 
 ers ; they are seldom both. Now when great men 
 are said to be sceptically inclined, I suppose the 
 great men intended are the great thinkers : first, 
 because they are the only great men who are likely 
 to intermeddle with the difficult and perplexing 
 questions at issue ; and secondly, because they are 
 the only great men whose judgment in such mat- 
 ters is of sufficient importance to be referred to. 
 
 The charge, then, is against the great thinkers ; 
 but, considered as made against them, several rea- 
 sons may be suggested, which should make us slow 
 to entertain it. 
 
 Great thinkers must be presumed to be some- 
 times in advance of the world in tlieir thinking ; 
 else why are they called great thinkers. Merely to 
 be able to defend by a subtle and refined logic a 
 foregone conclusion argues ingenuity, it is true, but 
 not the much higher faculty, that of original thought. 
 Now everybody knows that a considerable depart- 
 ure from tlie popular faith, though it is merely by 
 being in advance of it, is apt to be regarded by the 
 multitude not simply as the giving up of one view 
 of rehgion, but as the giving up of all religion. 
 Hence the early Christians were denounced by the 
 
INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 59 
 
 pagan world as " atheists," and persecuted under 
 that name, and for that crime. So hkewise in the 
 case of Socrates, one of the most rehgious men in 
 all antiquity. Very probably the leading politicians 
 who were active in his condemnation, cared but 
 little about religion in any way ; still their success 
 was mainly owing to the fact, that it fell in with 
 the vulgar clamor against him as an over-curious 
 sceptic, and impious innovator. First of all, there- 
 fore, I insist that the frequent charge against great 
 men of infidelity and irreligion, when resting on no 
 better foundation than popular clamor, is to be 
 listened to in all cases with extreme distrust. 
 
 Consider next the antagonisms of religious sys- 
 tems, and the jealousies of system-makers, or system- 
 holders, as giving rise to the charge in question. 
 A system of philosophy or religion is neither more 
 nor less than an attempt to sum up and reconcile 
 the facts in the case, as understood at the time. Of 
 course, as a man's knowledge of these facts is 
 cleared up, or refined, or enlarged, his system must 
 be modified ; and sometimes the modification is radi- 
 cal, leading him to view all things from a new 
 stand-point, and under new connections and rela- 
 tions. Whenever this happens, the partisans of the 
 old way of looking at the subject are offended and per- 
 plexed; they hardly know what to make of it; and 
 in their impatience are ever ready to charge the 
 
60 INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 
 
 new system with being not merely a new expo- 
 sition of what was believed before, but a real or 
 virtual denial of it. Hence almost every philoso- 
 pher who has attempted a new solution of the 
 great problem of life, or of the universe, has been 
 stigmatized by his opponents, at least in the be- 
 ginning, as an atheist. 
 
 So it was with Descartes, the great reformer of 
 the science of mind in the seventeenth century. 
 By candid critics he has been thought to have done 
 more for religious truths and realities than any 
 other philosopher, by the clear and sharp line of 
 demarcation he was the first effectually to draw 
 between matter and spirit. And besides, to show 
 how far he was from denying or doubting either 
 the being or the perfections of God, it is enough to 
 say, that one of the peculiarities of his system con- 
 sists in making every form of human certainty, ex- 
 cepting that of our own existence, — even the cer- 
 tainty of mathematical demonstrations, — to depend 
 on the Divine veracity. All this, however, could 
 not save him from being persecuted and driven out 
 of Holland as an atheist, at the instigation of a 
 knot of Protestant divines. 
 
 The same thing was soon afterwards attempted 
 in England against Locke, though by no means 
 with equal success. Locke's whole life, and all his 
 opinions, as far as developed by himself, were a 
 
INFIDEIITY OF GEE AT MEN. 61 
 
 living refutation of such a charge. Moreover, his 
 celebrated " Essay concerning Human Understand- 
 ing " gives what is there styled " a demonstration " 
 of the being of a God, and lays down the principle 
 that we have more certain evidence of the Divine 
 existence than we have of the existence of the ex- 
 ternal world. His " Reasonableness of Cliristianity " 
 is also one of the ablest defences of revelation ever 
 made. All this, however, went for nothing with a 
 party who were alarmed at some of the aspects of 
 his system of philosophy, and the freedom of some 
 of his speculations, and a cry was got up, that he 
 was no better than an atheist or deist " in dis- 
 guise." 
 
 Patience in speaking of such conduct would seem 
 at first sight to be little better than treason to 
 truth and right. And yet, on second thoughts, 
 why all this surprise and indignation at a fault so 
 easily accounted for and explained, and withal, in 
 its various degrees, so common ? Have we yet to 
 learn how few there are, even among good men, 
 the habits of whose minds will allow them to be 
 just to the opinions of their opponents? — especially 
 where, as in this case, the matters in dispute are 
 felt to be of great practical moment. The reason 
 of this is also obvious. We see the opinions of our 
 opponents from our own point of view, and not 
 from theirs ; and the consequence is, that we, I 
 
62 INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 
 
 might almost say, by necessity, misconstrue tliem. 
 Thus in respect to the misrepresentations com- 
 plained of above : every man's argument for the 
 being of a God rests on certain principles, which 
 to his mind are essential to the conviction. When, 
 therefore, these principles, or any of them, are as- 
 sailed, it seems to him as if a blow was struck at 
 the foundations of all religion. He forgets that 
 principles which are necessary to Jiis faith, or at 
 least are thought by him to be necessary, are not 
 so to that of his neighbor, who believes in God on 
 totally different principles, and yet believes in Him 
 just as sincerely, and just as devoutly. Let us 
 therefore put the most charitable construction on 
 the motives of these traducers ; only we must re- 
 member that they are traducers, which brings us to 
 the same conclusion as before. It would be easy 
 to show, on historical grounds, that a considerable 
 proportion of the great men who have been stigma- 
 tized m the polemics of the Church as unbelievers, 
 have done nothing whatever to warrant the re- 
 proach. 
 
 But there is another class of great men under 
 charge or suspicion of unbelief, who cannot be 
 disposed of so easily. I mean those who have in- 
 dulged, more or less, in what seem infidel specula- 
 tions, and are often claimed by infidels as of their 
 number, yet do not themselves accept the name, 
 
INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 63 
 
 nay, sometimes indignantly disclaim it. To this 
 class belong several of the uneasy, questioning, and 
 fiery spirits, who were thrown up into activity and 
 consequence by the convulsions growing out of the 
 Revival of Letters and the Protestant Reformation. 
 I am not sure that any of these men deserve to be 
 called great thinkers ; but some of them were bold 
 and original thinkers ; and in their first attempts 
 to go alone they often lost their way, and wandered 
 into extravagances which can hardly be reconciled 
 either with religion or anything else. For the most 
 part, however, they indignantly repelled the charge 
 of impiety or unbelief. One of the last of them, 
 Vanini, burnt at Toulouse as an atheist, in 1619, on 
 being asked at his trial if he believed in God, picked 
 up a straw from the floor, and holding it out in 
 his hand, said to his judges, " This straw, if there 
 were nothing else, would constrain me to confess a 
 Divine Author of Nature." 
 
 A similar remark is applicable to many of the 
 great metaphysical thinkers in Germany, in recent 
 times. It is common to hear these men referred 
 to as the deniers and subverters of religion, — the 
 modern Antichrist. On inquiry, however, it will 
 be found that the professed, and, as far as I can 
 see, the real purpose, of most of these writers was 
 to supplant the shallow naturalism and rationalism 
 already existing in the Church by a more profound 
 
64 INFIDELITY OF GKEAT MEN. 
 
 and severe philosophy, — a philosophy, also, which 
 would retain Christian ideas by showing that they 
 enter into and make part of the highest thought 
 of the age. Somebody, in defending the new phi- 
 losophy, had presumed to institute a parallel be- 
 tween Kant's system of morals and that of Jesus. 
 But Kant himself, to whom the manuscript was sub- 
 mitted, hastened to express a religious horror at 
 the sight of his own name in such connection with 
 that of Christ. He begs his friend not to publish 
 the work ; or if he should, he charges him to erase 
 the offensive parallel, using these memorable words : 
 " One of those names, that before which the 
 Heavens bow, is sacred, whilst the other is only 
 that of a poor scholar, endeavoring to explain, to 
 the best of his abilities, the teachings of his Mas- 
 ter." * Hegel, also, professed to the last his belief 
 in the ordinary faith of the Lutheran Church, 
 and held it to be a principal recommendation of 
 his system, that it supplied a scientific basis for 
 what are called " evangelical doctrines." 
 
 Here, then, is another view of the matter, which 
 strengthens my conviction that the reputed num- 
 ber of great men justly chargeable with unbelief 
 vastly exceeds the real number. Even of those 
 who have done something to provoke, and, it may 
 
 * Stapfcr's Life of Kant, a translation of which is inserted in the 
 Biblical Repertory (1828). Vol. IV. p. 337. 
 
INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 65 
 
 be, to authorize the suspicion by the infidel look or 
 tendency of their speculations, only a few, a very 
 few, have professedly taken infidel ground. Pro- 
 fessedly they have labored to reform, and in some 
 cases to restate and refound the popular religion, 
 in order to reconcile it with the progress of thought 
 on other subjects, but not to overthrow it. 
 
 " What ! " the objector will say, " is it not clear, 
 that whoever accepts this or that doctrine, or adopts 
 this or that system, cannot consistently believe in 
 Christianity?" Grant that he cannot consistently; 
 I submit that this is not the question. What 
 hinders him from doing it inconsistently, — yet really 
 and sincerely? Who does not know that mankind 
 are full of inconsistencies ? Certainly, therefore, it 
 would be taking a strange, I had almost said a 
 ludicrous position, to assume that nothing can be 
 true of a man's faith, even in matters the most 
 difficult, abstract, and remote, which involve an 
 inconsistency on his part. In such a case, the real 
 or alleged inconsistency is nothing to one who does 
 not see it. To your eyes the faith is self-destructive, 
 because self-contradictory ; but to his eyes it is 
 neither the one, nor the other ; that is, the diffi- 
 culty does not exist, at least so far as the reality 
 and sincerity of his faith are concerned. 
 
 " But the system, as carried out by the school, 
 has ended, in point of fact, in rank infidelity, per- 
 
66 INFIDELITY OF GREAT LIEN. 
 
 haps in rank atheism." To this I reply, first, tliat 
 for " school " in the statement under consideration 
 we must generally, if not always, read " some of the 
 school." The system of Locke, in the hands of his 
 French followers, ended in the denial of all rehg- 
 ion ; but not so with the bulk of his English fol- 
 lowers. The same is also true of the system of 
 Hegel, the last and most extreme form of German 
 idealism : while one wing of that school openly 
 spurns the very thought of God, the other still 
 adheres, like its master, not only to Christianity, 
 but also to church orthodoxy. Besides, suppose 
 that the system, when fully carried out, is seen by 
 all to end in materialism, fatalism, pantheism, — I 
 care not what. You have a right to charge the 
 legitimate consequences of a system on the system 
 itself; but not on the author of the system, any 
 further than you have reason to believe that he 
 foresaw and accepted them. It is but seldom that 
 all the legitimate consequences of a new principle, 
 of a new system, are foreseen or even suspected at 
 the beginning. When, therefore, a religious man 
 invents or adopts a system, which afterwards de- 
 velops consequences subversive of religion, it is but 
 fairness to assume, that he was not aware of these 
 consequences, and that if he had been, he would 
 have rejected the consequences, and the system too. 
 " Yes ; but infidels claim these great men as being 
 
INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 67 
 
 on their side." Very likely they do, and for obvious 
 reasons. Sylvain Mardchal, in his " Dictionary of 
 Atheists," comprehends in his list almost every orig- 
 inal thinker whom the world has known. In the 
 same spirit, Jeremy Bentham refers, in his corre- 
 spondence, again and again to private conversations 
 with reputed Christians, including several digni- 
 taries of the Church of England, from which he 
 chose to gather, that not a few of them had as 
 little faith in the popular religion as himself. But 
 what does this prove ? There are two ways of ac- 
 counting for these absurd imputations, — absurd, at 
 least, in the extent to which they have been car- 
 ried. In the first place, narrow-minded and con- 
 ceited men, — men who see clearly perhaps as far as 
 they see at all, but want largeness of view, — are apt 
 to think that whoever agrees with them in some 
 things, must agree with them in everything. And, 
 secondly, in the case under consideration, infidels 
 are strongly tempted by the desire, consciously or 
 unconsciously entertained, to make up for the want 
 of numbers and popular sympathy by the prestige 
 of great names. 
 
 My conclusion is, that there are no just grounds 
 for the infidel taunt, that great men, on becoming 
 great, outgrow Christianity. 
 
 At the same time, we must take care not to fall 
 into the opposite error of making too much of 
 
68 INFIDELITY OF GEEAT MEN. 
 
 greatness in this connection. The Scriptures, ex- 
 perience, common-sense, concur in protesting against 
 the doctrine that men are always or generally re- 
 ligious or Christian in proportion to their abilities or 
 worldly distinction. Remember our Lord's words : 
 " I thank thee, Father, Lord of heaven and 
 earth, because thou hast hid these things from the 
 wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto 
 babes." Remember also what was said by an 
 apostle : " For ye see your calling, brethren, how 
 that not many wise men after the flesh, not many 
 mighty, not many noble, are called." 
 
 These passages are to be explained, it is true, 
 and limited by reference to the times. At the first 
 promulgation of the Gospel, the great men of the 
 day were committed in a thousand ways, politically 
 and socially, as well as intellectually and relig- 
 iously, to the established worship. If they knew 
 more than others, it only followed, as a general 
 rule, that they had so much the more to unlearn 
 before they were in a condition to receive the new 
 faith. If, as was generally the case, they looked 
 down with contempt or indifference on the faith 
 and rites of their own country, they were not likely 
 to entertain much respect for a new religious move- 
 ment, of which they understood nothing, except that 
 it was an offshoot from Judaism, and came up from 
 the depths of society. We mistake the matter en- 
 
INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 69 
 
 tirely, if we suppose that the great men of Greece 
 and Rome troubled themselves to make up a seri- 
 ous and well-considered judgment on the merits or 
 evidences of Christianity, at the time and on the 
 spot. They rejected it without examination, just as 
 we should have been likely to do in their place ; 
 and this being the case, their rejection of it, no 
 matter what may have been their competency and 
 opportunity in other respects, signifies nothing. 
 
 Accordingly, in looking back on the first preach- 
 ing of the Gospel, we do not deny, we do not 
 wonder, that it was the common people almost alone 
 who heard it " gladly," while the bulk of what are 
 called the higher classes, the really great and the 
 would-be great, stood aloof. Nevertheless, we say, it 
 was not for anything in greatness itself, but because 
 their greatness placed them in circumstances which 
 blinded their eyes to a revelation from heaven. 
 
 To a certain extent this remark applies, also, to 
 the great men of succeeding times. Among the 
 adverse circumstances in which they are almost al- 
 ways placed, we may mention, first, the press of 
 worldly avocations, leaving them but little leisure 
 to bestow on religion. It is so particularly with 
 statesmen, professional men, merchants in large busi- 
 ness, and men of letters, — even their hours of ap- 
 parent leisure are filled with care. Strange as it may 
 seem, it is nevertheless true, that men who read 
 
70 INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 
 
 the most, often read the least on religious subjects. 
 If a man has but one book in the world, it is com- 
 monly the Bible; and if he reads no other book, 
 he is likely to read that so much the more. Ac- 
 cordingly, we must not be surprised if we often 
 meet with men who are great and learned on other 
 subjects, but whose knowledge on the subject of re- 
 ligion is exceedingly limited and superficial, — more 
 so than that of many in the humblest walks in life. 
 Again, there are other circumstances incident to 
 superior rank and learning, but adverse to religion. 
 I may mention first, the pride of standing and in- 
 tellect engendered by the consciousness of such 
 superiority. Minds thus affected are slow to look 
 with desire or respect upon gifts and graces which 
 God, in his great mercy, has placed within the 
 reach of all. There is also the secret feeling, no 
 matter how unfounded and fallacious, that religion, 
 though necessary perhaps to the bulk of the com- 
 munity, is not so to them, inasmuch as they have 
 substitutes for it in a higher culture, in philosophy, 
 and in a just sense of character and reputation. 
 Then, too, there are the temptations of power, and 
 opportunity, and prosperity. Great men, as well as 
 others, are liable to prejudice, vice, and worldly am- 
 bition, " the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the 
 eye, and the pride of life " ; and these, like fevers 
 in the strongest constitutions, are often found to 
 
INFIDELITY OF GEEAT MEN. 71 
 
 produce the worst effects in the most richly en- 
 dowed minds. 
 
 Add to this, that men are often accounted great, 
 and justly so, because they are great in particular 
 things, in single endowments, — for example, in 
 mere intellect, or in mere force of will. Nobody 
 denies that such men effect great changes in the 
 world ; yet in the qualities necessary to understand 
 the nature of Christianity, or even to appreciate its 
 evidences, they sometimes fall far below the average 
 of mankind. 
 
 Putting all these things together, we can be at 
 no loss to account for the fact, that some really 
 great men reject Christianity, and that many really 
 great men, though admitting its truth and obliga- 
 tion, are unfaithful to it. In no case, however, is 
 it from their greatness in itself considered ; on the 
 contrary, true greatness always has favored, and 
 always will favor a religious interpretation of na- 
 ture and law, of human life and human destiny. 
 If I were asked what is the radical difficulty in 
 religion to most sceptics, I should answer. Because 
 it transcends experience. But this difficulty will 
 have comparatively but little weight with a really 
 great man, because, by his discoveries, inventions, 
 and conjectures, he is continually doing the very 
 same thing. He is prepared for, he is continually 
 expecting, new revelations of truth and reality. 
 
72 INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 
 
 Moreover, the really great man is eminently a man 
 of faith. What made Columbus a great man was 
 not, as it has been justly said, his discovery of a 
 new world, but his sailing away into an unknown 
 and trackless ocean, on the strength of his faith in 
 an idea. 
 
 History will confirm everything I have said. I 
 cannot recall a single individual of the very high- 
 est order of mind, who has set himself in oppo- 
 sition to religion. The active enemies of religion 
 are mostly made up of men ambitious of greatness, 
 but unable to achieve it. Stung by the failure, 
 they have turned against the dearest instincts and 
 the most sacred traditions of mankind, seeking, and 
 sometimes finding, in this reckless course the vulgar 
 substitute for greatness, — notoriety. 
 
 If then you are at any time tempted to abandon 
 your principles and hopes as Christians, consider, 
 I beseech you, before you take a step that may be 
 irretrievable, into what connection and fellowship 
 it will bring your name and fortunes* It will be 
 with men who owe whatever consequence and noto- 
 riety they have obtained much less to any supe- 
 riority of their gifts than to the wantonness in 
 which they have misapplied what gifts they had ; 
 with men, who even when they have taken under 
 their protection a good cause, civil liberty, for ex- 
 ample, have afterwards almost invariably disgraced 
 
INFIDELITY OF GREAT MEN. 73 
 
 and ruined it by lawlessness and excess ; — with 
 men who have begun with denying their obliga- 
 tions to God, and commonly ended with making a 
 jest of their obligations to one another; — with men, 
 m fine, who would take from human nature its 
 principal dignity in success, its principal support in 
 trouble, its principal guard in temptation, leaving 
 nothing in their place but the melancholy pride 
 of thinking to be able to see what others cannot, — 
 that we are without a Father, and without hope. 
 
 And you who are almost persuaded to become 
 Christians, consider I beseech you, with whom an 
 earnest and humble faith will bring you into com- 
 munion. It will bring you into communion with 
 the men to whom the world is indebted for almost 
 every advance it has made in true civilization. It 
 will bring you into communion with the men the 
 monuments of whose benevolent enterprise are in 
 every land, diffusing the inestimable blessings of 
 truth and order and liberty. It will bring you 
 into communion with the men who are pledged 
 in a thousand ways to honor, virtue, and philan- 
 thropy ; and all these pledges redeemed, the com- 
 munion on earth will become a communion in 
 heaven, — of all those whose names are written in 
 the Book of Life. 
 
THE INWARD MANIFESTATION OF CHRIST. 
 
 JUDAS SAITH UNTO HIM, (nOT ISCARIOT,) LORD, HOW IS IT THAT 
 THOU WILT MANIFEST THYSELF UNTO US, AND NOT UNTO THE 
 
 WORLD 1 — John xiv. 22. 
 
 The disciple who put this question to our Lord 
 was still under the influence of that prejudice of 
 his countrymen, which led them to expect that 
 when the Messiah manifested himself, it would be 
 by openly assuming the office of the Restorer of 
 Israel. But this step, whenever he should take it, 
 would have the effect to manifest him to his ene- 
 mies and to the public, as well as to his immediate 
 followers. What then could he mean, when he 
 spake, as he had just been doing, of manifesting 
 himself unto his disciples, and not unto the world ? 
 
 No proper conception had as yet been formed, 
 even by the Apostles, of that inward and spiritual 
 manifestation of himself which Christ is continually 
 making to his friends. And even since that time, 
 the fate of this doctrine in the Church has not 
 been much better. In the hands of the mystics, 
 
INWAP.D MANIFESTATION OF CHRIST. 75 
 
 witli whom it has always been a favorite topic, it 
 has been made to assume so preternatural, so fan- 
 tastic, or at best so vague and shadowy a form, as 
 to induce sober-minded and practical men to have 
 as little to do with it as possible. But this is not 
 the way, as it seems to me, in which we should 
 treat any solemn and emphatic inculcation of the 
 New Testament ; certainly not when, as in the 
 case before us, it can be vindicated on rational 
 grounds, and set in a clear light, from its con- 
 formity to one of those great laws of mind and 
 life which all are concerned to know. 
 
 I can best indicate this law by the help of a 
 familiar illustration. 
 
 Take two men of strongly marked characters, and 
 of like tastes, dispositions, and pursuits, — two poets, 
 for example, two men of business, or two philan- 
 thropists ; let there be no occasion of jealousy or 
 rivalship between them, and it is obvious that they 
 will understand and appreciate and believe each 
 other better than they otherwise would, merely be- 
 cause on the great subjects on which they think 
 and feel most deeply, they think and feel in com- 
 mon. The poet will understand, appreciate, and 
 believe the poet ; tlie man of business will under- 
 stand, appreciate, and believe the man of business ; 
 the pliilanthropist will understand, appreciate, and 
 believe the philanthropist. Again, let the conditions 
 
76 INWAED JIAXIFESTATION OF CHRIST. 
 
 of the supposed case be reversed. Bring together 
 a poet and one who is the reverse of a poet, a 
 business man and a recluse student, or an earnest 
 philanthropist and a heartless egotist and trifler, 
 and what will follow ? Not only will they be " un- 
 equally yoked " in other respects, but they will find 
 it difficult, if not impossible, to understand, ap- 
 preciate, or believe each other, because on the great 
 subjects on which they think and feel most deeply, 
 they think and feel diversely. To persons of such 
 different tastes, dispositions, and pursuits, not only 
 the same words, but the same actions and the 
 same things, have a different meaning, that is to 
 say, tliey will suggest different and sometimes oppo- 
 site ideas and trains of thought. In common and 
 every-day affairs such men may get along well 
 enough together, because here the distinctive pecu- 
 liarities of neither party are much brought out ; 
 but let them be put into situations in which these 
 peculiarities are brought out strongly, and the life 
 of each will become a marvel, a puzzle, an in- 
 solvable mystery to the other. 
 
 The fact, I suppose, will be generally admitted, 
 as here stated ; and by penetrating a little deeper 
 we shall find an explanation of the fact. Words, 
 of themselves^ reveal nothing. When we speak of 
 colors or odors, pleasures or pains, it is always on 
 the supposition that those whom we address have 
 
INWARD MANIFESTATION OF CHRIST. 77 
 
 experienced these sensations : else we should not 
 expect to be understood. The same is true when 
 we speak of courage, pity, generosity, self-devotion : 
 we presume that those whom we address have had 
 some experience of these affections ; otherwise, we 
 should not expect to be understood. And this re- 
 mark extends also to natural language, — to looks 
 and gestures, — even to actions themselves, when 
 considered as expressing the principles or emotions 
 from which they spring. To those who have had 
 some experience of these principles or emotions, 
 who know what acting from them is, and what it 
 means, these actions will be as external signs of the 
 principles or emotions to which they belong : to 
 others they will signify nothing. This is the reason 
 why men who are conscious of acting from none 
 but low and sordid motives, come at length to deny 
 or doubt the existence of higher motives. Again, it 
 is the reason why, in an age of formalism in relig- 
 ion and general profligacy of manners, if a prophet, 
 a martyr, or a radical reformer appears, he is 
 everywhere cried out upon as an impracticable 
 man, a fanatic, and a " dreamer of dreams," — per- 
 haps as insane. It is not merely^ as some would 
 seem to think, because his rebukes and warnings 
 are offensive and irritating ; but because his whole 
 being is a moral enigma ; because he cannot make 
 himself to be understood by persons so unlike him- 
 self. 
 
78 INWARD MANIFESTATION OF CHRIST. 
 
 This then is the conclusion to which we are 
 brought. Conduct^ in the largest sense of that word, 
 — conduct considered as including the principles 
 of action, as well as the actions themselves, is prop- 
 erly and fully intelligible only in so far as men are 
 educated up to the same level of moral progress. 
 "Where all participation stops, all sympathy stops ; 
 and where all sympathy stops, all true and living 
 communication, all true and living manifestation, 
 stops. 
 
 To all this it may be objected that " humanity is 
 entire in every individual"; — that is to say, every 
 individual has sometliing of every human quality, 
 enough in degree to prepare him to understand 
 and believe in the existence of that quality in any 
 degree in another person. But, in the first place, 
 I deny that the higher virtues do exist even in a 
 degree in all minds, . if by this is understood ex- 
 istence in a state of actual development. The germs 
 of -all human qualities are to be fouiid, I suppose, 
 in every human soul ; but it does not follow that 
 all these germs have even so much as begun to be 
 unfolded, and until this takes place the individual 
 is not conscious of them ; that is, they are to him 
 as if they were not. Admitting, however, for tlie 
 sake of the argument, that all virtues do exist in 
 all minds, the only difference being a difference of 
 degree, who does not perceive that this difference 
 
INWARD MANIFESTATION OF CHRIST. T9 
 
 of degree is alone sufficient to give rise to a want 
 of mutual understanding and sympathy ? Of course 
 a man who has actually felt compassion, for ex- 
 ample, though in a low degree, must have some 
 idea of what is meant by compassion in general, and 
 even of compassion considered as existing in much 
 higher degrees. Still it is found, in a practical 
 view of the subject, that men are extremely scepti- 
 cal, if not absolutely incredulous, as to the actual 
 existence of any feeling or moral sentiment in a 
 degree much above that to which they have them- 
 selves attained. Hence it is that selfish and narrow- 
 minded men always suspect the disinterested vir- 
 tues ; and hence, too, cold and phlegmatic men are 
 apt to suspect the sincerity of enthusiasts, and to 
 look around for by-motives — how unreasonably, I 
 need not say. Enthusiasts have their full share of 
 imperfections, I allow ; but it does not require mucli 
 reflection to perceive that they are among the last 
 people in the world to play a part. The cold and 
 phlegmatic are much more likely to be insincere 
 even in the little to which they pretend. Neverthe- 
 less, such is the constitution of the human mind 
 that we find it extremely difficult, in practice, to 
 believe in the actual existence of any feeling or 
 virtue in a degree so much above that in which 
 we possess it as to be beyond our sympatliy. We 
 may not choose to pronounce the feeling or virtue, 
 
80 INWARD MANIFESTATION OF CHRIST. 
 
 SO much above our own, to be a pretence, an im- 
 posture, an impossibility ; still we shall be very 
 likely to act under a vague impression that, some- 
 how or other, it is in part at least unreal. As was 
 said before, where all participation ends all sym- 
 pathy ends, and where all sympathy ends all mutual 
 understanding and all proper communication end. 
 
 This then would seem to be a universal law. I 
 have taken some pains to set it in as clear a light 
 as I could, on account of its wide and manifold 
 practical applications ; but of these the only one to 
 be insisted on here respects the doctrine of the 
 text : Jesus Christ manifesting himself to his friends, 
 and not to the world. 
 
 By this manifesting of Christ we understand the 
 manifesting of what is Divine in his doctrine, his 
 person, and his life ; causing it to be perceived, 
 comprehended, and felt. But, according to the law 
 just laid down, that we may comprehend and be 
 assured of Divinity anywhere, it is necessary that 
 what is Divine in our own nature should first be 
 awakened and developed, so as to bring us into 
 communication with it. To whom is manifested 
 what is Divine in the outward universe ? It docs 
 not depend on the perfection of the outward senses ; 
 nor yet on the acuteness or comprehensiveness of 
 the pure intellect : for there have been men, all 
 whose perceptive and logical powers were of the 
 
INWAKD MANIFESTATION OF CHRIST. 81 
 
 highest order, who yet could see nothing in the 
 material world but the play of a mute and dead 
 machinery, obeying the laws of a necessity as mute 
 and dead as itself. And this, I suppose, would 
 always be the tendency of our intellectual faculties 
 if we had no other faculties, — if we were all head 
 and no heart, — if we had not moral and spiritual 
 sensibilities to be touched by the countless traces 
 of a righteous rule, a beneficent purpose, and a 
 Father's care. I might go further still : I might 
 say, that it is only in so far as, in the language of 
 Scripture, we become "-partakers of the Divine na- 
 ture " that we can enter into or even approximate, 
 the full significancy of the Divinity of God. Many 
 hold, and, as I believe, on good evidence, that there 
 never was a people so ignorant and degraded as to 
 have no object of worship, — no God at all ; but 
 how different that God, beginning with the rude 
 fetich before which the savage mutters his incanta- 
 tions, and attaining at last to the Judge and Father 
 of all whom the enlightened Christian loves, trusts, 
 and adores. And this change is found to keep 
 pace, in every country and in every age, with the 
 progressive development of men's moral and spir- 
 itual ideas. 
 
 All this will be readily conceded, perhaps, as re- 
 gards those who are left to depend for their moral 
 and rehgious knowledge on the light of nature 
 
 4* F 
 
82 INWARD MANIFESTATION OF CHRIST. 
 
 alone ; " but not so," some will say, " with us who 
 have the Bible in our hands, clearly manifesting 
 God and Christ to all^ — alike to the righteous and 
 to the wicked, — to those who think, and to those 
 who do not." 
 
 Nothing- can well be further from the truth than 
 such a statement. Need I say again that words 
 of themselves reveal nothing ; that the only mean- 
 mg which any words have, or can have, is that 
 which we give to them, and which we must first 
 have in our minds in order to give. We can take 
 up the language of Scripture, I know, and call God 
 "holy," "just," and "good" ; but what these words 
 will really signify to our minds must depend ou 
 our own ideas of what constitutes holiness, justice, 
 and goodness. Of course our conceptions of the 
 Deity must still vary according to the degree of 
 purity and elevation which, from a true Christian 
 culture, our own moral and spiritual ideas have at- 
 tained. Who then will pretend, though we do have 
 the same Bible, that what is Divine in the teach- 
 ings and life of Jesus is manifested alike to all ? 
 Take any part of his discourses, — the Beatitudes, for 
 example, — and who does not perceive how much 
 more meaning benevolent and devout men will at- 
 tach to the words than others do or can ? with 
 how much more life, force, and distinctness every- 
 thing will be apprehended, merely because the read- 
 
INWARD MANIFESTATION OF CHRIST. 83 
 
 er's mind is tlioro uglily imbued with the spirit which 
 the passage breathes ? Above all, who can enter 
 into, or practically understand, the deep spiritual 
 experiences of Christ, — his inmost springs of ac- 
 tion, — the life of his life, — if he is a stranger to like 
 aspirations? Or, take the holy Communion, — who 
 will say that Christ is manifested equally and ahke 
 to all persons, whether devout or undevout, in that 
 solemn service ? Alas for us ! take the best man 
 that lives, and, from want of a like elevation of 
 soul, how inadequately must he be able to sympa- 
 thize with, or comprehend, in all its extent, that 
 sublime spirit of self-sacrifice which moved the Sin- 
 less One to lay down his life for a guilty world ! 
 
 But here a difticulty presents itself, which we 
 must not pass over without a word of explanation. 
 " We are to be made good by what the Scriptures 
 reveal, and yet it now appears that it is only in 
 proportion as we have become good that we can 
 enter fully and entirely into the meaning and spirit 
 of what is there revealed. Is not this making the 
 effect to come before the cause ? " I answer : In most 
 things we must first know, in order to love and prac- 
 tise ; but in morals and religion the rule is often 
 reversed, — we must first love and practise in order 
 to know. " What, then, is to induce us to love and 
 practise ? " I answer again : By our trials and fail- 
 ures, by meditation and earnest prayer, there is 
 
84 INWARD MANIFESTATION OF CHRIST. 
 
 awakened in iis a deep sense of moral and spiritual 
 wants, which are feebly represented by the physical 
 cravings of hunger and thirst, — wants which we 
 feel and know the world cannot satisfy ; and this 
 leads us to look beyond and above the world. 
 Christianity proffers us, while in this state of mind, 
 the means of the great salvation, which we must 
 accept, in the first instance, walking, for the most 
 part, by faith, and not by sight ; for it is not until 
 we have experienced their adaptation to the soul, 
 and their harmony with eternal truth, that our 
 trust is changed into assurance, and our hope into 
 fruition and peace. Nor does it end with begin- 
 ning. Every new moral and spiritual aspiration 
 prepares the way for a new revelation of moral 
 and spiritual truth ; and this again elevates us, so 
 to express it, to a higher level of the soul's pro- 
 gress, from which still higher aspirations may com- 
 mence. Thus it is that Jesus is continually mani- 
 festing himself, and manifesting himself more and 
 more unto his friends, and not unto the world. 
 
 Behold why it is that Christianity, with the same 
 Bible to define and expound it, is so different a 
 thing in one age from what it is in another, in one 
 country from what it is in another, to one person 
 from what it is to another. Behold also the element 
 of progress in Christianity, linking it indissolubly, 
 by the ties of a mutual dependence, to the pro- 
 
INWARD MANIFESTATION OF CHRIST. 85 
 
 gressive civilization of the world, and the progressive 
 education of the human race. Behold, moreover, 
 how much less the highest manifestations of re- 
 vealed truth depend on the exclusive culture of the 
 sciences of logic and interpretation, than upon the 
 actual progress which a whole people has made in 
 liberty, holiness, and love. After all, there are 
 depths in the divinity of our Saviour's teachings 
 and life, into the full significancy of which we can- 
 not hope to enter, so long as our sj^ritual vision is 
 dimmed by the mists of earthly prejudice, earthly 
 passions, and earthly care. " What I do," said our 
 Saviour, " thou knowest not now ; but thou shalt 
 know hereafter." The revelations of eternity must 
 come in to solve the enigmas of time. " It doth 
 not yet appear what we shall be ; but we know 
 that, when Christ shall appear, we shall be like 
 him " ; and because we are like him, " we shall see 
 him as he is. And every man that hath this hope 
 in him, purifieth himself, even as He is pure." 
 
THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 
 
 THE SABBATH WAS MADE FOR MAN, AND NOT MAN FOR THE 
 
 SABBATH. — Mark ii. 27. 
 
 When it is said that " the Sabbath was made for 
 man," the meaning is, that it was made for his use 
 and benefit. It does not mean that he has a right 
 to use it, or not ; nor yet that it is his in such a 
 sense, that he has a right to put it to whatever 
 use he pleases. It still supposes that the Sabbath 
 has its appropriate and legitimate uses, and that 
 it is the duty of every individual to ascertain what 
 these uses are, and avail himself of them. 
 
 They are reducible, as it seems to me, to two : 
 rest from secular labor, and opportunity for moral 
 and religious culture. 
 
 Some have thought to add to these a third, 
 namely, the favor and content of the people, se- 
 cured by giving part of the day at least to social 
 pleasures and recreations. This appears to have 
 been the policy of the Catholic Church from remote 
 ages. It was adopted by the Anglican Church in 
 
THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 87 
 
 its early struggles with the Puritans, and did as 
 much, perhaps, as any other one thing to drive to 
 extreme measures that austere and uncompromising 
 sect. At this moment on the continent of Europe 
 this policy is understood to be almost universal 
 among Christians of all denominations. 
 
 We have a right to ask. Has it worked well ? 
 Certainly not, if we are to find the answer in the 
 results. All agree that in those countries where 
 it has most prevailed there has been a lamentable 
 falling away from the ancient strictness of faith and 
 practice. I know it is common to ascribe this de- 
 fection, so far as Protestant countries are concerned, 
 to the sceptical or unspiritual writings of critics and 
 philosophers. But whence these writings ? Why 
 there more than here ? As a general rule it will 
 be found that they have but attended and re- 
 flected, step by step in the downward course, the 
 sceptical or unspiritual state of the public mind. 
 The writings have not, to any considerable extent, 
 caused the evil ; they have only reflected it. The 
 cause, as it seems to me, is still to be traced, in 
 no small part, to the neglect or misappropriation 
 of holy time ; first, by the higher classes only ; at 
 last, by all classes. 
 
 Could anything better have been expected ? Un- 
 doubtedly it is desirable that Sunday should be the 
 happiest day of the seven ; but then it should be- 
 
88 THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 
 
 come so by our loving its appropriate and legiti- 
 mate uses, and not by our turning it to other and 
 inconsistent uses. But what, you may ask, is to 
 be done for those who have no taste, as yet, for 
 religious exercises, and no inclination for self-com- 
 munion, or moral and spiritual culture ? 
 
 I answer, that Sunday, and the whole of Sunday, 
 should be devoted to giving them this taste, and 
 this inclination. I do not deny that there are such 
 things as gloom and asceticism ; these w^e are to 
 avoid in our Sabbatical observances, as well as in 
 everything else. But gloom and asceticism do not 
 come from giving too much time to religion ; they 
 come from false views of religion. 
 
 Besides, I cannot help observing generally, in this 
 connection, that modern sentimentalism has a little 
 too much to say about happiness in religion, — 
 happiness as pertaining not only to the mature 
 life of the Christian, but also to the process by 
 which that life is formed. In looking to the prom- 
 ises of Scripture it is apt to overlook the conditions 
 on which these promises are suspended. We are 
 told, it is true, that ^^ perfect love casteth out fear" ; 
 but the love of most persons, and even of most 
 Christians, is far from being " perfect " ; hence that 
 other Scripture, " Work out your own salvation 
 with fear and trembling y We must take things 
 as they are ; we must take man as he is. When 
 
THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 89 
 
 we consider how much the best of us have to look 
 back upon eacli week that ought to humble us, and 
 fill us with regret and anxiety, every one must 
 perceive that the duties of Sunday, which consist 
 pre-eminently of self-examination, and the offices of 
 penitence and prayer, cannot, if faithfully performed, 
 dispose men to merry-making of any kind, or be 
 reconciled with it. There is a serious joy which ac- 
 companies every well-directed effort for self-improve- 
 ment ; this joy belongs especially to Sunday, and 
 with it we should be content. 
 
 Still the question may be pressed, "Is it not better 
 that the irreligious part of the community should 
 be accustomed to connect Sunday with agreeable 
 rather than with disagreeable associations ? " Un- 
 doubtedly it is ; provided only, that tlie appropriate 
 and legitimate uses of the institution, to themselves 
 or others, are not frustrated or essentially com- 
 promised thereby. But remember, our principal 
 objection to the intrusion of worldly cares and rec- 
 reations into consecrated hours is not, tliat they 
 take up the time needed for more important objects, 
 though this alone would be insuperable, but that 
 their tendency is to dissipate the mind, and divert 
 it from that profound seriousness, without whicli 
 the exercises of religion, however punctiliously and 
 sanctimoniously gone through with, degenerate into 
 a form of godliness without the power. Christian- 
 
90 THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 
 
 ity was not given in order to multiply amusements 
 for tlie irreligious part of the community. God 
 forbid, that we should try, or wish, to make the 
 sinner happy in his sins, or in the neglect or mis- 
 appropriation of one of the principal means by 
 which he is likely to be reclaimed from his sins. 
 
 I return, therefore, to the position taken in the 
 beginning of this discourse. The benefits resulting 
 from the Christian Sabbath are reducible to two, — 
 rest from secular cares, and opportunity for moral 
 and religious culture. 
 
 It is common to dwell on these with special 
 reference to the wants of the uneducated and labor- 
 ing classes, meaning by the laboring classes those 
 who labor with their hands. Here it may not be 
 amiss to reverse the practice, and consider this 
 whole subject with particular reference to the duty 
 and the needs of men who labor with their minds, 
 — the scholar's Sabbath day. 
 
 In the first place, it is obvious that students, 
 professional men, and men of letters, from the very 
 nature of their occupations, are peculiarly in danger 
 of neglecting the duties and losing the advantages 
 of a weekly day of rest. The husbandman pur- 
 sues his calling in the open fields ; the mechanic 
 in the noisy workshop ; the mercantile classes in the 
 market-place, and the thronged city. Their work, 
 therefore, must be suspended. Its continuance would 
 
THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 91 
 
 arrest public attention, and neither public opinion 
 nor the laws of the land would allow it to go on, 
 as it would interfere with the proper observance of 
 the day by others. But no such external restraint 
 is felt by the scholar, or the professional man. 
 Neither the law nor public opinion follows him 
 home, to pronounce judgment on what he reads or 
 thinks ; and consequently there is nothing but his 
 own sense of propriety to hinder him from reading 
 the same books, and pursuing the same investiga- 
 tions, on Sunday as on other days. Nor is this all. 
 Even his own sense of propriety will be apt to be 
 blinded or misled on this particular question by a 
 vague notion, not luifrequently entertained, that 
 Sunday, as a day of rest, was intended for what 
 arc called, by way of distinction, the laboring classes ; 
 and again, that Sunday, as a day for moral and re- 
 ligious instruction, was intended chiefly for the un- 
 educated classes. 
 
 Both these assumptions, I think it will not be 
 difiicult to show, are unfounded. 
 
 First, as to the benefits of a day of rest to those 
 who labor with their minds, and not with their 
 hands. In reply to the objection sometimes made, 
 that it is a loss of so much time, at least as re- 
 gards men's worldly occupations, it has been proved 
 again and again in respect to bodily labor, that 
 more work is probably done in the course of the 
 
92 THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 
 
 year with this occasional respite, than would or 
 could be done without it. The same is also true 
 of mental toil. None of our faculties or organs 
 appear to be so constituted as to be able to bear 
 a long-continued strain. The brain may be over- 
 loaded and overworked as well as the stomach or 
 the limbs ; and this overworking depends quite as 
 much — nay, I think I may say, a great deal more 
 — on its being unremitted, than on its being in- 
 tense for a time. Who has never gazed at an 
 object until all clearness and distinctness of vision 
 was lost? Who has never studied a subject day 
 after day without being able to master it ; but upon 
 giving his mind a little time for relaxation, and then 
 returning to it again, has been able to master it at 
 once ? 
 
 I grant that persons raised above the necessity 
 of manual labor belong, as a general rule, to that 
 portion of the community which can best afford to 
 live at ease. On this account it is true perhaps, as 
 a general rule, that they are less likely, than the 
 humbler classes, to overtask themselves, or be over- 
 tasked by others ; and hence it may be inferred 
 that they do not stand so much in need of an ap- 
 pointed and legalized day of rest. But in estimating 
 the value of an institution like this to a class, it is 
 not enough to know whether many or few will be 
 affected by it directly. Only a few may be bene- 
 
THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 93 
 
 fited by it directly; and yet through them the 
 benefits resulting from it indirectly to the whole 
 community may be immense. Let it be that but a 
 small proportion of students and professional or 
 public men stand much in need of the physical re- 
 lief which Sunday brings, or ought to bring, to the 
 overworked mind; still we should remember that, 
 small as this proportion is, it will probably com- 
 prise the elite, — those from whom the world has 
 most to hope. Though they do not constitute the 
 majority of the class, they probably constitute those 
 who have most influence in the class; — in propor- 
 tion of numbers not more, perhaps, than one to a 
 hundred, yet in proportion of merit and pubhc prom- 
 ise it may be as a hundred to one. Any institu- 
 tion, therefore, which tends to keep eager and earnest 
 minds of this description from premature death, or 
 from lingering disease which is the death of their 
 prospects and their usefulness, is an incalculable 
 good, not only to them, but to the whole class and 
 the whole community. 
 
 Imperfectly as the day is kept, there can be no 
 doubt that it prevents much evil in this way; if 
 it were kept as it ought to be, it would prevent 
 much more. I have no occasion to press any arou- 
 ment beyond what it will easily bear. I am willing 
 to suppose that the early decline, not infrequent in 
 the class of young persons of whom the highest 
 
94 THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 
 
 hopes are entertained, is often to be traced to that 
 peculiar sensitiveness of the nervous system, or that 
 peculiar delicacy of organization, which belongs to 
 precocious minds. Still physical differences of this 
 description can only be regarded as predisposing, 
 and not as proximate, causes of disease. Even in 
 such cases, therefore, it is still true, that the proxi- 
 mate cause of disease is almost always over-exertion, 
 — over-exertion for such a constitution-; and this 
 over-exertion would certainly be less likely to take 
 place if secular studies and secular thoughts were 
 not allowed to encroach on holy time. 
 
 And so in after life. Here, too, the most valu- 
 able lives are most in jeopardy, because most likely 
 to be pressed and importuned by important business 
 and public cares. There is good reason to believe 
 that a proper observance of the Lord's day would 
 have saved many such lives from a premature and 
 melancholy close. Mr. Wilberforce, after hearing 
 that Lord Castlereagh had destroyed himself, wrote 
 as follows in his diary : " He was certainly de- 
 ranged, — the effect probably of continued wear and 
 tear of mind. But the strong impression of my 
 mind is, that it is the effect of the non-observanco 
 of Sunday, both as abstracting from politics, from 
 the constant recurrence of the same reflections, and 
 as correcting the false views of worldly things, and 
 bringing them down to their true diminutiveness." 
 
THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 95 
 
 Again, writing to a friend, and referring to a similar 
 catastrophe in the case of another eminent individ- 
 iial. Sir Samuel Romilly, he says : " I am strongly 
 impressed by the recollection of your endeayor to 
 prevail on the lawyers to give up Sunday consulta- 
 tions, in which poor Romilly would not concur. If 
 he had suffered his mind to enjoy such occasional 
 remissions, it is highly probable the strings would 
 never have snapped, as they did, from over-tension." * 
 
 Thus much in proof that eager and faithful stu- 
 dents, including also all men of large cares and 
 earnest thought, stand in need of Sunday as a day 
 of rest from mental toil. They also stand in need 
 of it as a day of religious instruction and moral 
 and spiritual culture. 
 
 And, first, as regards religious instruction. Be- 
 cause a man knows one thing very well, we are apt 
 to presume that lie knows other things ; but this by 
 no means follows. For example : because a man is 
 an eminent naturalist, it does not follow that he 
 knows everything, or anything, about ethics or politi- 
 cal economy. And it follows less now than at any 
 former period. The sciences have become so multi- 
 plied, and each is pursued so far, that an individ- 
 ual, if he wishes to distinguish himself in any^ de- 
 partment of human inquiry, must give himself to it 
 almost exclusively. The day for universal scliolar- 
 
 * Life of William Wilberforce, Vol. V. pp. 134, 135. 
 
96 THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 
 
 ship is past, never to return. "We find no fault 
 with this state of things, for we see that it is an 
 inevitable condition of human progress ; but we 
 contend that an exception ought to be made, for 
 obvious reasons, in favor of morality and religion. 
 All, especially in the educated and influential classes, 
 whatever else they know or do not know, should 
 know something about morality and religion. For 
 this, therefore, adequate provision should be made 
 in the arrangements of society ; and sucli provision 
 is made by the institution of the Christian Sabbath ; 
 during which the theory certainly is, whatever may 
 be the practice, that all secular and professional 
 cares and studies should be suspended, the thoughts 
 being mainly turned upon those questions which 
 belong to our eternal peace. 
 
 Such provision, always needed, even by liberally 
 educated men, is becoming more and more so for 
 another reason, — I mean the change which has taken 
 place in the spirit and aim of education itself. We 
 can go back to the time when almost all the learn- 
 ing in the world was in the Church, and for the 
 Church. Our boasted system of common schools 
 grew mainly out of the Puritan principle, that every 
 individual should be put into a condition to read 
 the Bible for himself. What first led to the found- 
 ing of this college was the fear that otherwise the 
 succession of learned and faithful ministers would 
 
THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 97 
 
 fail. Yet we have lived to see the day when the 
 question is gravely discussed, whether the Bible 
 ought to be read in common schools. Also, in this 
 college, still purporting to be dedicated to Christ 
 and the Church, the Greek New Testament, though 
 for more than a century the only text-book in the 
 language, has dropped at last entirely out of the 
 academical course. I do not mention these changes 
 in order to condemn them. For anything I have 
 to say at present, they may all be for the better, 
 and not for the worse. One thing, however, is 
 plain : in so far as religious instruction is excluded 
 from general and professional education it follows 
 incontestably, that the so-called educated classes are 
 not any more likely than others to be well informed 
 in religious matters. 
 
 And do not facts sustain this view? When the 
 conversation turns on questions calling for famil- 
 iarity with Scripture, or with the grounds and limi- 
 tations of disputed doctrines, or with the history of 
 the controversy with unbelievers, or with different 
 sects, I do not jfind that scientific or professional 
 men are any more at home on such topics than 
 intelligent farmers or mechanics.. And not only so. 
 When unauthorized and crude novelties are broached 
 under the name of religion, or, which is just as bad, 
 when a temporary reaction takes place in favor of 
 cast-ofif errors and superstitions, I find that a full 
 
 5 O 
 
98 THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 
 
 proportion of educated men and women, and of the 
 so-called higher classes, are carried away by the 
 folly. Does not this prove that a full proportion of 
 those classes have yet to be "rooted and grounded" 
 in what " be the first principles of the oracles of 
 God " ? From all which I think we have a right to 
 conclude, that, regarding Sunday merely as afford- 
 ing opportunity for religious instruction, the great 
 body of what are called the higher and the edu- 
 cated classes stand in need of it, as well as others, 
 and as much as others. 
 
 But the benefits resulting from Sunday in respect 
 to Christian knowledge are inconsiderable when com- 
 pared with the benefits resulting from it in respect 
 to Christian morals and piety, to Christian nurture. 
 Those who think to class the observance of the 
 Lord's day under the head of outward forms and 
 ceremonies entirely mistake the nature and purpose 
 of the institution. It is not a form or ceremony 
 of any kind, but an appointed season, a set time, 
 which we are to give, as we best may, to the means 
 of moral and spiritual culture. You might just as 
 well rank under the head of outward forms and 
 ceremonies the four years spent at college, or the 
 three years spent in the study of a profession. The 
 education of the heart is just as much education, 
 as the education of the head ; and for the former at 
 least, all, I suppose, will agree that frequent oppor- 
 
THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 
 
 tunities are as indispensable to the learned as to the 
 unlearned. There is some connection, it must be 
 confessed, between strength and activity of intellect 
 on other subjects, and strength and activity of in- 
 tellect on the subject of religion ; but there is no 
 necessary connection whatever between either, and 
 that devotion of heart and life which God requires. 
 A giant intellect is no more the substance or the 
 sign of moral superiority than a giant frame. On 
 the contrary, the very consciousness of great mental 
 power, co-operating with the pride and selfishness 
 of man's heart, is of the nature of a temptation, 
 and on this account needs especially to be kept 
 under by the frequent discipline of self-examination 
 and prayer. 
 
 To such as object to keeping particular days holy, 
 on the ground that every day should be kept holy, 
 there are two answers: one assuming that the ob- 
 jection is made in good faith ; the other, that it is 
 a mere pretext. 
 
 I have no doubt that the early Quakers were per- 
 fectly sincere in what they said on this subject ; but 
 then it should be remembered that they did keep 
 every day holy. Whoever takes up with their doc- 
 trine respecting the Sabbath, ought, at least, in order 
 to be consistent, to take up with their practice on 
 other days, abstaining from all worldly amusements, 
 and also from all worldly occupations of a question- 
 
100 THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 
 
 able character or tendency. Even then, however, 
 we should not be satisfied. Not that we would not 
 have every day kept holy ; but this is our position. 
 We would have Sunday kept holy in one way, that 
 is, by giving it to public and private worship, and 
 to serious reading and meditation, and the rest of 
 the week kept holy in another way, that is, by giving 
 it to the faithful and earnest discharge of duty in 
 the business of society and the world. Nay, more ; 
 we are persuaded that, unless one day in the week 
 is kept holy in the way first mentioned, the other 
 days are not likely, in the end, to be kept holy in 
 any way. And for proof of this I would refer to 
 the history of Quakerism itself. Spiritually-minded 
 men who are tempted to think lightly of consecrated 
 times and places, and outward ordinances, would do 
 well to consider that those sects which maintain 
 these fixtures and bulwarks of the religious senti- 
 ment stand as strong as ever, while those, on the 
 contrary, which began by abandoning them have 
 either faded away, or, to prevent this, have been 
 constrained essentially to modify their original plan. 
 As for those who talk about one day being as 
 good as another, without taking care to make any 
 day what it ought to be, I suppose we have a right 
 to regard the whole as mere pretext, resorted to as 
 an excuse for religious indifference. In arguing 
 with such persons, it would, perhaps, be out of place 
 
THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 101 
 
 to appeal to the highest principles of human action, 
 for they do not recognize these principles. But as 
 some who take this ground are not unwilling to 
 acknowledge the moral and social benefits of Chris- 
 tianity, it may not be without avail to urge that all 
 these are put in peril by the neglect of the Lord's 
 day. It is a significant fact, that, in speaking of 
 our frontier settlements, travellers agree in this, 
 that, whenever they have found themselves beyond 
 the reach of the Sabbath, they have also found 
 themselves beyond the reach of Christian civiliza- 
 tion. Even in the most favored regions, the best 
 men deplore their inability to keep the day as they 
 would. And what is the reason? It is because 
 the six days given to the world are more than a 
 match for the one day given to heaven. If it were 
 not for this one day given to heaven, the world 
 would swallow up every thought, every care. 
 
 My friends, as a general rule we are not wont 
 to trifle with our important temporal interests: let 
 us not trifle with our moral and religious interests, 
 merely because they are eternal. "Remember the 
 Sabbath day, to keep it holy." As educated men, 
 we need it; — we need it for our own good, for 
 our own safety. We owe it also to others ; for it is 
 only in this way that the genius and learning of 
 the country are likely to be elevated and purified 
 by the Christian spirit. And what the Scriptures 
 
102 THE STUDENT'S SABBATH. 
 
 affirm of the individual is pre-eminently true of the 
 community : "if the light that is in thee be dark- 
 ness, how great is that darkness." 
 
 Think not, because I have said that something is 
 to be done on the Christian Sabbath, that I would 
 compromise its benefits as a day of rest. To the 
 mind change is rest. And, besides, if the day is 
 spent as it ought to be, it will lead us to take an- 
 other view of the entire work of life, — dignifying it 
 by a higher significance given to its responsibilities, 
 and making the whole a service of freedom and 
 satisfaction, because of choice and love. 
 
PRAYER. • 
 
 IF YE THEN, BEING EVIL, KNOW HOW TO GIVE GOOD GIFTS UNTO 
 TOUR CHILDREN, HOW MUCH MORE SHALL YOUR FATHER WHICH 
 IS IN HEAVEN GIVE GOOD THINGS TO THEM THAT ASK HIM 1 
 
 — Matthew vii. 11. 
 
 Supplication, or prayer, is the natural language 
 of weakness, dependence, and fear. When in trouble 
 and perplexity, when the danger is pressing, and 
 we from any cause feel unequal to the exigency, 
 it is as natural for us to cry out for help, as to 
 groan when in pain, or weep at scenes of distress. 
 If any one is near who can save us, who is thought 
 to hold our fate in his hands, or is looked up to as 
 greatly our superior in wisdom or station, our cries 
 are spontaneously directed to him. Thus it is that 
 the child often turns to his parents, the sick man 
 to his physician, tlie slave to his master, the sub- 
 ject to his prince, in the language and look, as 
 well as in the spirit, of prayer. In the appropriate 
 circumstances it is as natural for us to pray as to 
 speak. When there is occasion for it, our language 
 takes the form of petition or entreaty as readily and 
 
104 PRAYER. 
 
 naturally, as it takes that of question or command 
 when there is occasion for that. Prayer is the fit, 
 natural, and spontaneous utterance of those who need 
 help, when in the presence, or in the supposed pres- 
 ence, of those who can render it if they will. A 
 sense of propriety, self-respect, pride, reserve, and a 
 multitude of other causes, may induce a man to 
 keep silence at such times ; but it can only be by 
 restraining one of the most distinctly pronounced 
 tendencies of human nature. 
 
 Thus far I have spoken of prayer in general^ — of 
 prayer as it might exist, and would exist, if there 
 were no such thing as religion. 
 
 Passing now to prayer in religion^ the first re- 
 mark which occurs to me is, that it differs not 
 from prayer as above described in occasion or form, 
 nor essentially in its nature or spirit, but only in 
 its object. Prayer in religion is addressed to an 
 Invisible Being. It supposes a communication be- 
 tween the visible and the invisible worlds. It takes 
 for granted two facts : first, that a being, or per- 
 haps that many beings exist of a higher order than 
 ourselves ; and, secondly, that he or they can be 
 moved by our supplications. Deny these facts and 
 you deny religion, and, of course, all foundation for 
 prayer in religion. Admit these facts, and prayer, 
 as a religious act, becomes as natural and spon- 
 taneous as it is for the hungry to ask for bread, 
 or for the drowning to cry out for help. 
 
PRAYER. . 105 
 
 We may therefore say of prayer in religion what 
 was just said of prayer in general. It is the fit, 
 natural, and spontaneous utterance of those who 
 need help, when in the presence, or in the sup- 
 posed presence, of One who can help them if He 
 will. Under these circumstances, to pray is as natu- 
 ral as to breathe. Under these circumstances, to 
 restrain prayer is not to follow our nature, but to 
 do violence to it; so that all occasion for argument 
 is with those who neglect or withhold prayer. In 
 other words, the question with us should not be, 
 Why pray ? but. Why not pray ? 
 
 But if prayer is so natural and spontaneous an 
 act, it would seem to follow that it must be univer- 
 sal. And is it not so in fact ? One of the best in- 
 formed of the pagans has said : " Survey the face 
 of the globe. You may find whole tribes and na- 
 tions without fortified places, without letters, with- 
 out a regular magistracy or fixed habitations, without 
 property or the use of money ; but never one without 
 a God, without altars, without prayers." * Neither 
 was this a mere state contrivance for state 'pur- 
 poses, — the craft by which a few would subdue and 
 control the many. We have the testimony of several 
 of the early Christian fathers to the general preva- 
 lence throughout the pagan world of a disposition 
 among the common people to appeal when in trouble 
 
 * Plutarchus : Moralia. Adversus Colotem, Cap. XXXL 
 
 5* 
 
106 PRAYEK. 
 
 or alarm to a higher Power. It is also remarkable 
 that in the deepest emotions of their minds they 
 never directed their invocations to their false gods, 
 but employed such expressions as these : " As truly 
 as God lives ! " or, " God help me ! " Moreover, at 
 such times they did not turn their eyes to the Capi- 
 tol, but lifted them to Heaven.* 
 
 And how is it at the present day ? Far am I 
 from supposing that piety, considered as a predomi- 
 nant or abiding trait of character, the piety re- 
 quired by the New Testament, is universal or gen- 
 eral. But where will you find a man who never 
 prays! You may find men without morality, with- 
 out natural affection, without any proper or steady 
 faith ; you may find plenty of doubters and de- 
 niers, scoffers and blasphemers ; but where will you 
 find one who never prayed ! Throughout the wide 
 world, where will you find one whom the conscious- 
 ness of peril, anguish, impotence, or sin never be- 
 trayed into some such ejaculation as this : " God 
 help me ! " or " God have mercy on me ! " Yet 
 all these are of the nature of prayer. I do not 
 think I should be very extravagant were I to as- 
 sert, that it is as impossible to find a man who 
 never prayed, as to find one who never shed a 
 tear. 
 
 * Cudworth's Intellectual System (Harrison's Ed.), Vol. II. pp. 157 
 
PRAYER. 107 
 
 Still some may think that such prayers, however 
 natural and common, are worthless, are not proper 
 prayers, as they do not spring from gratitude, but 
 from a sense of our needs and our helplessness. 
 But why this objection ? What better or more 
 suitable spirit is there, from which prayer, as prayer, 
 can proceed, than from this very consciousness of 
 our needs and our helplessness. Here indeed 
 breaks upon us, as it seems to me, one of the most 
 important views to be taken of those trials and 
 afflictions which bring man's insufficiency to light. 
 They make us feel^ what is true whether we feel it 
 or no, that we are nothing without God, and so 
 lead us to God as our only refuge and stay. Other 
 wise purposes are answered, I doubt not, through 
 our exposure to trouble and calamity; yet none of 
 these are of so direct and high benefit as the one 
 we are now considering, impressing on the human 
 mind, as it does, a sense of entire dependence on 
 God, and making prayer to be the natural and 
 only resort. 
 
 What man is there whose own experience does 
 not come in aid of this doctrine ? Those especially 
 who have felt the crushing weight of a great sor- 
 row, will they not testify that they found no peace 
 until they gave over struggling with Providence, 
 until they gave over struggling altogether ; until 
 they yielded themselves unreservedly to the Divine 
 
108 PRAYER. 
 
 disposal, something whispering that it was to bring 
 about this happy state of mind that the sorrow was 
 sent ? There are prayers, as every one knows, 
 which are not prayers ; but this can hardly be said 
 of the earnest cry which is wrung from men in 
 their extremity, when every other hope has fled, 
 and they cast themselves wholly on God. I cannot 
 help thinking that many a solemn-sounding litany 
 has been chanted by priestly lips in consecrated 
 places, to waste itself on the air, while the whole 
 ear of heaven was intent on some poor sailor's 
 "God help me ! " as it went up amidst the howl- 
 higs of the tempest from the parting wreck. 
 
 Again, it may be objected that these natural, 
 spontaneous, and often ejaculatory appeals to God, 
 when we are in difficulty or trouble, amount to 
 nothing as they are not founded in reason, but in 
 some illusion of the imagination. " Forgetting," such 
 objectors will say, " the essential distinction between 
 the Divine and human modes of acting, we call 
 upon God, as we should call on a man if he were 
 near, and expect the Divine interference as we 
 should expect that of a friend, of a father, if he 
 were standing by." And why not? Either you 
 must say that God is not our friend and father, 
 which is to deny the truth of religion ; or that, 
 though our friend and father, he will not act as if 
 he were, which is to make it of no importance to 
 
PRAYER. • 109 
 
 US whether religion is true or not. Why are we 
 glad to be assured that God is our friend and father ? 
 Simply and solely because we thence infer that he 
 will be a friend and father to us ; that is to say, do 
 for us what a friend and father would in like cir- 
 cumstances. Undoubtedly we should guard against 
 the not uncommon error of pushing too far the 
 analogy between the human and Divine modes of 
 conduct. For example, we must not expect from 
 God many things which we might expect from the 
 folly or weakness of a friend or father ; but cer- 
 tainly we may expect from God what we should 
 expect from the wisdom and goodness of a friend 
 and father. If these titles when applied to God do 
 not mean this, I would fain ask what they do 
 mean. Is it not plain, not only that they mean 
 this, but that they can mean nothing else ? God is 
 not our friend in the same way in which a man 
 is our friend, that is, by mutual sympathy and re- 
 ciprocity of favors ; neither is he our father in the 
 literal sense of that word. The terms are not in- 
 tended to denote a physical, but a moral relation- 
 ship. That is to say, we call God our friend and 
 father, because, and only because we suppose he 
 will do for us what the wisdom and goodness of 
 a friend and father would do for us in like circum- 
 stances. Calling God our friend and father means 
 this, or it means nothing; it means this, or it does 
 
110 PBAYER. 
 
 not afford us the shadow of ground either of com- 
 fort or trust. 
 
 Accordingly, the Scriptures, both the Old Testa- 
 ment and the New, abound in instances in which 
 the paternal character of God is expressly set forth 
 as a reason for expecting his help in time of need, 
 and especially in answer to prayer. " Like as a 
 father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them 
 that fear him ; for he knoweth our frame ; he re- 
 membereth that we are dust." " Can a woman for- 
 get her sucking child, that she should not have 
 compassion on the son of her womb ? Yea, they 
 may forget ; yet will I not forget thee." The para- 
 ble of the Prodigal Son is also a beautiful and 
 most impressive illustration of what may be ex- 
 pected from the paternal relationship of God, show- 
 ing that no degree of ingratitude and sin will shut 
 his ear against our prayers, should we ever after- 
 wards turn to him with an humble and contrite 
 heart. And so our text : " What man is there of 
 you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him 
 a stone ? or if he ask a fish, will he give him a 
 serpent ? If ye then, being evil, know how to give 
 good gifts to your children, how much more shall 
 your Father which is in heaven give good things 
 to them that ask him ? " 
 
 The first practical lesson to be gathered from what 
 has been said is, that we should cherish this natu- 
 
PEAYEE. Ill 
 
 ral and spontaneous disposition to look upon our 
 Heavenly Father as always near, watching over our 
 conduct, and ready with all needed succors. A 
 man is not religious because he believes in the ex- 
 istence of God, but because he recognizes and feels 
 His continual presence and agency. The Epicureans 
 did not deny the existence of the gods ; but they 
 denied the fact of a Providence ; they denied that 
 the gods had any care or pity for mortals, and 
 so subverted the foundations of all religion in the 
 soul. Not much less fatal to worship and a de- 
 vout habit of mind is a doctrine held by some at 
 the present day ; namely, that God made the world, 
 and then abandoned it to the action and control 
 of physical laws, retiring himself from all supervision 
 and interference in human affairs. The ground and 
 life of prayer depend on our believing, not merely 
 that there was a God once, the Creator of the 
 world, but that there is one now and here; — a 
 living and personal God, witnessing everything which 
 we do, and hearing everything which we say. 
 
 Men, I repeat it, are not religious in proportion 
 to the strength, the clearness, or the soundness of 
 their faith, but in proportion to the hold which this 
 faith, whatever it may be, has gained over their 
 feelings and imagination. A serious and spiritually 
 minded man, though of but little faith, is often 
 more religious than one who never knew what it 
 
112 PRAYEE. 
 
 was to doubt, the difference m conviction being 
 more than made up by the difference in feeling 
 and imagination. I do not mean that we should 
 look to the feelings and imagination as sources of 
 truth. To find out what is true, we should use our 
 reason ; but having found it out, if we would give 
 effect to it, we must call in the aid of the feelings 
 and the imagination, by which alone what is true 
 to the understanding is converted into a present 
 reality to the heart and the life. Eeason may assure 
 us of the existence of "Him who is invisible ; " but 
 this is not enough. This conclusion may be ac- 
 cepted by the intellect alone, in which case we 
 shall hold it without being affected by it. In order 
 to be affected by it, and to become personally what 
 it requires, we must live, we must act, we must 
 enjoy, we must endure, " as seeing' Him who is in- 
 visible," which cannot be done without the help of 
 the feelings and the imagination. 
 
 Let me add, that this is hardly more necessary to 
 religion than to a high and strict virtue. A great 
 deal too much has been said about the self-sufficiency 
 and the all-sufficiency of virtue. Virtue with relig- 
 ion makes a man contented and happy, I allow ; 
 but virtue without religion only makes a man more 
 painfully alive to the unequal distributions of this 
 world, and the liopelessness of oppressed innocence. 
 Besides, what security have we for the thorough- 
 
PRAYEK. 113 
 
 ness and endurance of such virtue without religion ? 
 Little does the world know about the thoughts of 
 those who are accounted upright, and who gen- 
 erally are so ; little does it know what they do, 
 or are tempted to do, when withdrawn from the 
 public gaze ; little does it know what the best of 
 them would be tempted to think and do, if they 
 could divest themselves of the secret impression 
 that the eye of the Livisible Witness is upon them 
 at all times. 
 
 Another practical lesson to be gathered from what 
 has been said is, that we should not only look upon 
 our Heavenly Father as always near, but accustom 
 ourselves to make known our requests to him, 
 asking that we may receive, and thus cultivating a 
 direct and habitual intercourse with him. I am 
 not ignorant of the speculative difficulties respecting 
 prayer, by which some minds are troubled ; but it 
 is a mistake to suppose that these difficulties are 
 generally at the bottom of their neglect of prayer. 
 What hinders a vast majority of such men from 
 praying is the want of a devout habit of mind. 
 With their present dispositions, nine out of ten 
 would not pray, habitually and from the heart, even 
 if these difficulties were removed ; and nine out 
 of ten, if they could be induced to cultivate a de- 
 vout habit of mind, would soon begin to pray not- 
 withstanding these difficulties. The worst that can 
 
114 PRAYEE. 
 
 be said of these difficulties is, that they supply the 
 unspiritually disposed with an excuse or pretext for 
 not so much as trying or caring to cultivate a de- 
 vout habit of mind. 
 
 To this some may reply: We have no objection 
 to a devout habit of mind ; but we think this can 
 be cultivated and evinced by acknowledging God in 
 all his ways, by submitting to every affliction as 
 appointed in mercy, by referring every blessing to 
 his gift, — in short, by religious thoughtfulness and 
 meditation, quite as well as by seljEish importunities 
 under the name of prayer. If I find difficulty in 
 dealing with those who make this objection, it is 
 because I find difficulty in believing it to be made 
 in good faith. Is it true, do you think, that those 
 who take this ground against prayer are among 
 those who are most addicted to religious thought- 
 fulness and meditation ? Nor is this all. I can hardly 
 conceive it to be possible that a devout man should 
 become familiar with the thought of God as a 
 loving Father, and accustom himself to recognize 
 his constant presence and agency, without being 
 often irresistibly impelled, by a sense of insufficiency 
 or sin, to cry out for help or pardon. As it has 
 been justly said : " To repeat desires in our minds, 
 being at the same time sensible that the Supreme 
 Disposer of our lot stands by and observes them, 
 without ever directing them to Him, or looking to 
 
PEAYER. 115 
 
 Him for the accomplishment of them, — this implies 
 a neglect of the Giver of all good, so repugnant to 
 the sentiments of the human heart, and so crimi' 
 nal, as to be absolutely incompatible with right dis- 
 positions." * To ask whether a man can be relig- 
 ious without prayer, is like asking whether a man 
 can be sociable without the use of speech. It is 
 bringing together incongruous, irreconcilable ideas. 
 Besides, for other reasons, I do not admit that any 
 form of religious thoughtfulness or meditation is as 
 likely to bring about a devout habit of mind, as 
 prayer. The very posture which the soul assumes 
 in prayer opens it and predisposes it to the recep- 
 tion of Divine influences. In private prayer es- 
 pecially, supposing it real and not mere form or 
 routine, when the soul is alone with its Maker, — 
 tliis is felt to be no time nor place for dissembling, 
 or vain parade, or side purposes. Conscious that 
 the eye of the Omniscient is upon him, and that no 
 record is made of what he is doing but that which 
 will be sealed up until the judgment of the great 
 day, — if man is ever sincere and in earnest, if he 
 is ever touched by a sense of his relationship to the 
 Divinity, if his heart is ever warmed and melted by 
 the spirit of humble and childlike trust, it must be 
 then. 
 
 * Price's Four Dissertations, Fifth Edition, p. 282. 
 
116 PRAYEE. 
 
 There is one more practical lesson to be gathered 
 from what has been said. We are not only to 
 cultivate the spirit and the habit of prayer, but we 
 are to do it from belief in the direct efficacy of 
 prayer, I have just alluded to the difficulties on 
 this subject which exist in some minds. Time 
 would fail me to speak of them in detail, but they 
 are mainly resolvable into this : that God will do 
 for us what is fit and best, whether we ask him or 
 not. True ; but is it not plain that it may be 
 fit and best for us to receive many things in an- 
 swer to humble and devout prayer, which it would 
 not be fit and best for us to receive on any other 
 condition ? Besides, these are difficulties to trouble 
 a deist ; and we are not deists. They ought not to 
 trouble a Christian. The worst that can be said 
 is, that, with our very inadequate conceptions of the 
 Divine nature and government, reason cannot see 
 how prayer can alter the course of events. Still 
 the believer knows that the fact is revealed, and 
 insisted on as much perhaps as any other in the 
 New Testament; and under these circumstances the 
 misgivings of his bewildered and baffled understand- 
 ing are overruled by the sublime principle of faith. 
 Moreover, these doubts about the efficacy of prayer do 
 not originate in the best parts of our nature ; neither 
 do they manifest themselves in the best moods of 
 the soul ; they are born of our selfish and worldly 
 
PRAYER. 117 
 
 experiences, and that almost exclusive culture of 
 the understanding which leads to unspiritual views 
 of nature and God. 
 
 Most persons find no difficulty in believing that 
 prayer exerts a happy and desirable influence on 
 the worshipper himself; but even this can hardly 
 be, if it is generally understood that this is all. In- 
 deed, I cannot help thinking that conscience itself 
 would dissuade many from resorting to prayer, if 
 brought to look on it as no better than a kind of 
 well-meant cheat which we practise on ourselves 
 for its moral uses. Prayer, to have much effect on 
 ourselves, must be believed to have an effect on 
 God. It is too solemn a transaction by far to be 
 made use of as a kind of spiritual strategy. No ; 
 make not our prayers to seem one thing and be 
 another. Strike not our devotions dead by the 
 sceptical sophism that they can only have an effect on 
 ourselves. They will have an effect on God; for he 
 has said that they will, and the promise has been 
 ratified and confirmed in the experience of holy 
 and devout ihen in all ages. They will have an 
 effect on God, for He who is ^' in the bosom of the 
 Father " has said that they will. " Ask, and it 
 shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall find." Again 
 it is said : " Let us come boldly unto the throne of 
 grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to 
 help in time of need." And more affectingly still 
 
118 PEAYER. 
 
 in the words of the text : " If ye then, being evil, 
 know how to give good gifts unto your children, 
 how much more shall your Father which is in 
 heaven give good things to them that ask him." 
 Wherefore, " Be careful for nothing ; but in every- 
 thing by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, 
 let your requests be made known unto God: and 
 the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, 
 shall keep your hearts and minds through Jesus 
 Christ." 
 
RELIGION AS AFFECTED BY THE PROGRESS 
 OF THE PHYSICAL SCIENCES. 
 
 AND THERE SHALL BE SIGNS IN THE SUN, AND IN THE MOON, AND 
 IN THE stars; and UPON THE EARTH DISTRESS OF NATIONS AND 
 
 perplexity; the sea and the waves roaring ; men's hearts 
 failing them for fear, and for looking after those 
 things which are coming on the earth; for the powers 
 
 OF HEAVEN SHALL BE SHAKEN. — Luke Xxi. 25, 26. 
 
 In the language of Scripture the overthrow and 
 destruction of nations are represented under images 
 borrowed from unusual and terrific appearances in 
 nature. We need not suppose that the Prophets, 
 in resorting to such expressions, really meant that 
 the physical phenomena here referred to would at- 
 tend or usher in the events foretold. The expres- 
 sions were not intended as descriptive and historical, 
 but merely as suggestive and emblematic of the 
 impending calamity. 
 
 But in the early popular superstitions of every 
 country a mysterious connection is supposed really 
 to exist between remarkable appearances in nature, 
 especially when in the heavens, and remarkable 
 
120 RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 changes in the affairs of men. On this fanciful idea 
 arose that mighty superstructure of omens and 
 portents and prodigies wliich plays so important a 
 part in the religions of the ancient world. A day of 
 unusual darkness, the shooting of meteors notice- 
 able either for their number or magnitude, a singu- 
 lar conjunction of the planets, the appearance of a 
 comet, or an eclipse of the sun, was sure to be at- 
 tended by " distress of nations and perplexity," 
 " men's hearts failing them for fear, and for look- 
 ing after those things which were coming on the 
 earth." 
 
 If the question should be asked, Why are not 
 the multitude affected in the same way now ? — the 
 answer is on everybody's tongue. It is because 
 the wonders of science have gradually and imper- 
 ceptibly expelled the marvels of superstition. Who 
 now believes in the pompous trifling of astrology? 
 Who now thinks to read in the heavens the fate 
 of nations, or of individuals ? No doubt the sudden 
 apparition of a comet, an earthquake, a total eclipse 
 of the sun, or any other unusual and startling 
 occurrence, will still arrest attention, and fill men 
 with awe ; but they are no longer looked upon as 
 prodigies, as omens or portents, or as being in any 
 sense preternatural. On the contrary, they are 
 known to be resolvable into the operation of the 
 same system of physical laws according to which 
 
RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 121 
 
 the fire burns and rivers flow, the flowers expand 
 and an apple falls to the ground. 
 
 Here, however, several questions arise, by which 
 thoughtful and serious minds have been troubled 
 not a little. Granting that the progress of science 
 tends to lessen the number of popular illusions 
 and mistakes, is there no reason to fear that it also 
 tends to lessen the number of popular interests 
 and securities ? The intellect will doubtless be a 
 gainer by it ; but is there no danger that the 
 imagination and the sentiments will suffer ? Super- 
 stition will be rooted up ; is there no ground for 
 the apprehension that religion itself is also gradually 
 losing its hold on the public mind, and from the 
 same cause ? 
 
 The writings of men who are distrustful of the 
 times abound in doubts and misgivings of this 
 kind, — so much the more mischievous because 
 barely hinted at. To be forever asking sceptical 
 questions as to the drift of human thought, and to 
 stop there, can answer no good purpose. Let us, 
 therefore, take up some of these inquiries, and pur- 
 sue them as far as the narrow limits of a single 
 discourse will permit. 
 
 In the first place, is it true that the progress of 
 science threatens to leave us with nothing to wonder 
 at ? There are those who seem to think that, in 
 proportion as the processes of nature are explained, 
 
122 EELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 that is, referred to established and known laws, so 
 that they can be foreseen and predicted, every- 
 thing must become tame and commonplace; — no 
 objects to call forth some of the finest and noblest 
 properties of our nature ; no play of the imagina- 
 tion : man will look down on everything ; he will 
 look up to nothing. But it is because these alarm- 
 ists make wonder to be of one kind only, when in 
 fact it is of two kinds. There is a stolid wonder 
 and an intelligent wonder ; the wonder of bewilder- 
 ment, and the wonder of admiration ; wonder at 
 what we do not understand, and wonder at what 
 we do understand, and see to be so true and 
 simple and perfect. Undoubtedly a savage will 
 stand aghast at appearances in the heavens, which, 
 if he were better instructed, would not affect him 
 at all, or affect him in a very different way. But 
 this is not the sole, or the highest form of wonder. 
 What is most likely to fill a thinking mind with 
 astonishment and awe, is not the disorder, but the 
 order, of the universe ; not the occasional convul- 
 sions of the elements, but the fact that a few simple 
 laws reign throughout all this apparent diversity 
 and confusion, and give unity and stability to the 
 whole. 
 
 Still many will insist that a scientific view of na- 
 ture is not a religious view of nature. And this 
 is true ; but only in the sense in which it is also 
 
EELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 123 
 
 true, that a scientific view of the Liblc is not 
 a religious view of the Bible. A scientific view of 
 nature is not a religious view of nature, any more 
 than it is a poetical view of nature ; but this does 
 not assume or imply that it stands in the way of 
 either. A religious view of nature supposes two 
 things ; first, a heart alive to religious impressions, 
 and, secondly, an eye to see in the visible universe 
 the presence and activity of " Him who is invisible." 
 And these, of course, do not originate in a science 
 of nature, nor in a science of anything, but in our 
 moral constitution, in religious culture, and the 
 grace of God. 
 
 Let us try to make the proper and necessary dis- 
 criminations on this subject. The whole discussion 
 about the bearing of scientific study on religious 
 character has been needlessly embarrassed and per- 
 plexed by the false issues which have been raised 
 and argued. No enlightened advocate of education 
 will pretend that the physical sciences, or that any 
 science, even the science of theology, will make a 
 man truly religious. Scientific men, to become truly 
 religious, must become so in the same way in which 
 other men do; — that is, by availing themselves of 
 the means necessary to induce a devout habit of 
 mind. 
 
 The point in dispute is therefore narrowed down 
 to this : are scientific men less likely than others 
 
124 RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 to resort to these raeans ? or do tliej resort to them 
 under less favorable circumstances ? In other words, 
 to be still more explicit and direct, the whole inquiry- 
 resolves itself into two questions. In the first place, 
 is there anything in a scientific study of nature to 
 hinder a man from becoming- religious in the usual 
 way? And, in the second place, supposing him to 
 be religious, is there anything in a scientific view 
 of nature to hinder him from taking, at the same 
 time, a religious view of nature ? 
 
 Before taking up the first of these questions, let 
 us glance, for a moment, at the facts in the case. 
 From the language often used on this subject one 
 might presume, that nearly all the scepticism in the 
 world can be directly traced to the progress of 
 physical science. But it is not so. The great irre- 
 ligious movements, so far as they have originated 
 in study of any kind, have originated, for the most 
 part, in the study, not of physics, but of meta- 
 physics. So it was with the Greek sophists. So it 
 was with English deism in the seventeenth and 
 eighteenth centuries. And so pre-eminently with 
 German pantheism, which is the oifspring, not of 
 German physics, but of German metaphysics. Even 
 the materialism, so common among the French 
 physicists of the last generation, was not the con- 
 sequence of studying nature in itself considered, but 
 of studying nature in the faith, and under the lead 
 
RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 125 
 
 of a materialistic philosophy, that is to say, of a 
 bad metaphysics. Moreover the religious character 
 of a multitude of scientific men has never been 
 questioned. Such names as Kepler and Newton, 
 Boyle, Pascal, and Leibnitz, and a host of others 
 like them, ought at least to save the physical sci- 
 ences from being singled out for the reproach of 
 necessarily tending to infidelity. And how is it in 
 England and this country, at the present day? 
 
 Of course it would be absurd to say, that every 
 student of nature is a religious man. But what 
 evidence is there that the class itself has not, at 
 this moment, its full proportion of such men, if com- 
 pared with any other class as exclusively devoted 
 to purely intellectual pursuits ? We must not pre- 
 sume that a scientific man lives and dies without 
 any regard for religion, merely because he does not 
 see fit to introduce it into his scientific publica- 
 tions, or thinks, perhaps, with Bacon, that final 
 causes have nothing to do with physics. Few names 
 eminent in modern science are so frequently claimed 
 on the side of infidelity as that of Laplace : it is 
 instructive, therefore, to learn what his final senti- 
 ments on this subject were, from the following record 
 of a conversation, which an English scholar of note 
 had with him not long before his death. " Among 
 other subjects he inquired into the nature of our 
 endowments, and our course of academic study j 
 
126 RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 which I explained to him at some length. He then 
 dwelt earnestly on the religious character of our 
 endowments, and added, as nearly as I can trans- 
 late his words, ' I think this right ; and on this 
 point I should deprecate any great organic changes 
 in your system ; for I have lived long enough to 
 know, what I did not at one time believe, that no 
 society can be upheld in happiness and honor with- 
 out the sentiments of religion.' " * 
 
 Let us now return to the question. Is there any- 
 thing in the scientific study of nature to hinder a 
 man from becoming religious, in the only way in 
 which any man can expect to become so ? 
 
 Nobody understands, I suppose, that the scientific 
 study of nature, alone considered, will make a man 
 religious, any more than the scientific study of lan- 
 guage or of law. Religion, I repeat it, is not the 
 fruit of a scientific study of anything; — not even 
 of theology or the Bible. For this reason we are 
 to be neither surprised nor troubled on finding 
 that there have been eminent theologians and Bibli- 
 cal critics, who were not religious men. Why should 
 they have been so for that reason alone ? that is to 
 say, merely for knowing how a passage in the Greek 
 Testament is to be read, or how religious systems 
 are to be framed and defended ? — in one word, 
 
 * Sedgwick's Discourse on the Studies of the University of Cambridge, 
 Fifth Edition, p. 129. 
 
RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 127 
 
 merely because they are good linguists or good 
 logicians ? Because a man is a good linguist or a 
 good logician, it does not follow that he is a good 
 Christian. Those who are fond of insisting, and 
 with truth, that religion is not a distinct and for- 
 eign substance, to be patched on the character, 
 must remember, nevertheless, that it is a distinct 
 development of character ; that it may be, or may 
 not be, developed with the rest of the character ; 
 and furthermore, that its development calls for dis- 
 tinct and appropriate means. 
 
 What is to be religious ? I do not now ask, 
 how a man begins to be religious ? for this would 
 bring up a multitude of unsettled questions. But 
 what I ask is simply this, let a man begin to be 
 religious as he may, when can he be said to have 
 become religious, in the sense of having a religious 
 character ? I answer : when he shows himself to 
 possess a devout habit of mind, and not before. 
 How then, I ask again, is a devout habit of mind 
 to be acquired and maintained ? Obviously, so far 
 at least as it depends on human means, in the 
 same way in which all other habits are acquired 
 and maintained ; that is, by a repetition of the 
 thoughts, the feelings, the actions, which go to make 
 up the habit. Hence the institution of stated times 
 and modes of worship, the main purpose of which 
 is to keep up in men of every walk in life a relig- 
 
128 RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 ious consciousness, that is to say, an habitual sense 
 of the presence and agency of God everywhere and 
 in everything. As means to the same end, we may 
 also mention faithfulness to the duty of secret 
 prayer, the reading of devotional books full of the 
 inspiration of a religious genius, and especially, of 
 the Bible, — not as a critic, but for its practical 
 and devotional uses ; and last, though not least, the 
 society of religious men, and well-written lives of 
 the religious men of other countries and other 
 times, considered as the means of quickening and 
 enlarging our religious sympathies. Common sense, 
 as well as the Scriptures, teach us that it is only 
 in some such way that a religious habit of mind 
 can be generated and upheld, — I do not say, in 
 this, or that condition of life, but in any condition 
 of life : in the scholar, the artisan, the day-laborer ; 
 in the man of business, and in the professional 
 man ; in the artist, and in the man of science. 
 To expect it to be generated and upheld in any 
 other way, is to expect an effect without the cause, 
 a state of mind without the antecedents, the prepa- 
 ration on which it depends. 
 
 Now I insist that the principal, if not the solo 
 danger religion has to apprehend from the physical 
 sciences, even in those most devoted to them, is to 
 be found, not in the sciences as such, but in the 
 fact that they are apt to take up and engross the 
 
RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 129 
 
 whole mind. A man may become a mathematician 
 or a naturalist, and nothing else, just as he may 
 become a lawyer, or a merchant, or a mechanic, and 
 nothing else, — that is, to the forgetfulness, or at least 
 to the serious neglect, of other cares and duties, 
 and especially of his own social and moral and re- 
 ligious culture. But it would be neither reasonable 
 nor fair, in such cases, to ascribe the evil to the 
 nature of the pursuits ; — it comes from exclusive de- 
 votion to them, and comes whatever may be the 
 pursuit. 
 
 There is nothing, then, in the scientific study of 
 nature to hinder men from resorting to the usual 
 and necessary means of becoming religious, or to 
 prevent these means from being effectual. And this 
 brings us to the second question: Supposing a man 
 to he religious, is there anything in a scientific view 
 of nature to hinder him from taking, at the same 
 time, a religious view of nature ? 
 
 Science has to do with laws, and with phenom- 
 ena as they illustrate, fall under, or help to estab- 
 lish these laws. An impression, I believe, prevails 
 in some quarters, that these laws, in a scientific 
 mind, take the place of God, and exclude him from 
 the universe. But is it so ? 
 
 Need I repeat here what has been said so often ? 
 Even if it were possible to resolve every phenom- 
 enon of nature into what are called the laws of na- 
 
 6* 1 
 
130 RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 ture, it would not be to take a single step towards 
 dispensing with the necessity of an All-sustaining 
 Energy, and an All- controlling Mind. For, in the 
 first place, the existence of these laws would still 
 have to be accounted for ; and, in the second place, 
 supposing them to exist, they are not a force ; they 
 are not the proper cause of anything; they are not 
 an agent, but only the rules, or conditions by which 
 the real Agent is pleased to govern himself; and 
 this Agent is God. Nay, who does not see how 
 much less inconsistency there would be in sup- 
 posing the universe the work of chance, if it were 
 not governed by general laws, and according to a 
 fixed plan ; because, though in this case we should 
 still want a power to account for the motion, we 
 should not want an intelligence to account for regu- 
 lar and concerted motion. Indeed, the moment we 
 fully recognize the fact that the world is governed 
 by laws ; that order, adaptation, unity are every- 
 where apparent; that there are unmistakable traces 
 of a plan, extending to all things, comprehending all 
 things, — there springs up in the mind, unbidden and 
 irresistibly, the conviction of purpose and thought, 
 that is, of an Intelligent Author. Thus what to 
 the scientific mind are but the laws of nature, be- 
 come to the same mind, if religious, what, in the 
 expressive and sublime language of Scripture, are 
 called " the Ways of God:' 
 
RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 131 
 
 I say, " to the same mind, if religious " ; for I 
 must remind you once more, that precisely here is 
 the great difficulty, not only in men of science, 
 but in all men devoted to intellectual pursuits. 
 As a general rule, I believe that men of action are 
 more inclined to religion, than men of study ; and 
 the reason is obvious. It is not, as some would in- 
 terpret it, because a superior education has raised 
 the latter above religion, but because a one-sided 
 education has made them incapable of it, or, at any 
 rate, comparatively unsusceptible to it. It is be- 
 cause their habits and predispositions lead them to 
 look at religion under a speculative point of view, 
 where all its difficulties, and almost none of its 
 chief attractions, are found. Be this, however, as it 
 may, one thing is clear: a man must be religious 
 in himself, before he can be expected to carry re- 
 ligion into his daily work, whether of body or mind. 
 Unless a man will take some pains to acquire a 
 devout habit of mind, in other words, unless he 
 will take some pains to quicken and develop that 
 part of his nature to which religion is addressed, it 
 is certain that no amount of physical knowledge 
 will make him properly sensible to the manifesta- 
 tions of God in the material world. He may open 
 the book of nature where he will, and it will be to 
 him, under a religious point of view, a blank page ; 
 while to those who have not neglected their con- 
 
132 EELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 sciences and souls in the exclusive culture of the 
 intellect, and who therefore read it with a prepared 
 mind, it will be written all over with lessons of ado- 
 ration and praise, of solemn awe and humble trust. 
 
 Nay, more ; these " laws of nature," from which 
 so much danger to religion is apprehended, — when 
 rightly viewed, they not only do not remove God 
 further from us, but have the effect to bring him 
 strangely, startlingly near. They not only prove ar- 
 rangement, contrivance, a plan, — that is to say, con- 
 nected and intelligent thought, — but, in proportion 
 as we succeed in comprehending them, they enable 
 us to enter into that thought. The human mind 
 is conscious of being where the Divine Mind has 
 been before, — perhaps I ought to say, where the 
 Divine Mind is now. And besides, a world not gov- 
 erned by fixed laws would be a chaos, not a crea- 
 tion. Accordingly it is only by tracing these laws 
 that we can attain to a conception of a Creative 
 Mind, and put ourselves into communication with 
 it. Nothing is to be feared, everything is to bo 
 hoped, from the progress of scientific culture, pro- 
 vided only that moral and spiritual culture goes 
 along with it, hand in hand. To a religious mind 
 God is best seen, not in that part of nature which 
 is least understood, but in that part of nature 
 which is best understood. 
 
 Let me add, that whoever begins by thus recog- 
 
RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 133 
 
 nizing in nature a personal and living God, will 
 not be likely to stop there. There is nothing in 
 the study of the laws of nature by a devout mind 
 to exclude the idea of a Revelation, though this 
 Revelation be a miracle, and authenticated by mira- 
 cles. God acts in and through laws; not however 
 from necessity, but because, as a general rule, it is 
 obviously important and indispensable to the safety 
 and happiness of his children, who otherwise would 
 not know what to depend upon. If then an exi- 
 gency should arise, in which the safety and happi- 
 ness of his children require a deviation from the 
 usual order of things, from his ordinary rule of 
 action, in all such cases the rule must give way to 
 the principle which dictated the rule. There is no 
 inconsistency or contradiction here ; no change of 
 purpose ; no disregard even for law, for he still 
 obeys the law of all laws, the law of his own na- 
 ture, which is, to do in every instance what is 
 wisest and best. 
 
 Moreover, what we know of religion by the study 
 of nature has the effect to create in us an earnest 
 longing to know more. A curiosity is awakened, 
 which is not appeased ; problems are suggested, 
 which are not solved ; a mysterious hand is laid on 
 the veil, and we wait in humble, awful expectation 
 to see that veil lifted up. Once believe, no matter 
 on what evidence, in a personal and living God, 
 
134 RELIGION AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 
 
 and that lie is a loving and tender Father of all 
 men, and after that, the wonder is, not that he has 
 interposed at times, but that he does not interpose 
 oftener. Thus it is, that the recognition of God in 
 nature prepares the way for the recognition of God 
 in Christ. We accept the declaration, " God, who 
 at sundry times and in divers manners spake in 
 times past unto the fathers by the prophets, has in 
 these last days spoken unto us by his Son." How 
 then can we resist the appeal ? " See that ye refuse 
 not liim that speaketh. For if they escaped not 
 who refused him that spake on earth, much more 
 shall not we escape, if we turn away from him that 
 speaketh from heaven." 
 
CONSCIENCE. 
 
 AND PAUL, EARNESTLY BEHOLDING THE COUNCIL, SAID: MEN AND 
 BRETHREN, I HATE LIVED IN ALL GOOD CONSCIENCE BEFORE 
 GOD UNTIL THIS DAT. — ActS Xxiil. 1. 
 
 The Apostle Paul began bis defence before his 
 countrymen with this noble declaration, and though 
 but his own testimony in his own favor, it is abun- 
 dantly confirmed by what we know of his character 
 from other sources. We have every reason to be- 
 lieve that he was what is called " a conscientious 
 man" before he became a Christian, as well as 
 afterwards. By his own confession, he " was before 
 a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious ; but 
 I obtained mercy," he adds, " because I did it igno- 
 rantly in unbelief." Again he says : " I verily thought 
 with myself, that I ouglit to do many things con- 
 trary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth." 
 
 But if it be conceded that Paul was a conscien- 
 tious man before his conversion, the question very 
 naturally arises, How then can his conversion be said 
 to have made him a better man ? I answer, in one 
 word, — because it made his conscience a better con- 
 
136 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 science. A man may be no more observant of con- 
 science than formerly ; but he may have a better 
 conscience to observe. 
 
 Nothing has done so much to perplex men's 
 speculations about conscience as certain fundamental 
 mistakes respecting its proper nature and functions. 
 
 In the first place, conscience is not a law, but a 
 faculty; not the decision pronounced in a particular 
 case, but the faculty which pronounces the decision. 
 As reflective beings, we are constrained to endure 
 our own review of our own conduct, including our 
 dispositions and intentions. Such, also, is our men- 
 tal constitution, that we cannot knowingly do ill 
 without feeling that we deserve ill, or knowingly 
 do well without feeling that we deserve well. Hence 
 we are said to have not merely a sensitive and in- 
 tellectual nature, but also a moral nature ; and the 
 peculiar faculty by which this moral nature mani- 
 fests itself, as far as it is manifested, is called 
 conscience. 
 
 Again ; this faculty is susceptible of instruction 
 and improvement, like other faculties of the human 
 mind ; Hke the understanding, for example, or the 
 taste. Of course, I do not mean that conscience is 
 wholly a factitious thing, that education makes it, 
 any more than it makes the understanding or the 
 taste. Every faculty, properly so called, depends 
 for its existence on the original constitution of the 
 
CONSCIENCE. 137 
 
 human mind, and, considered under this point of 
 view, must be regarded as "the inspiration of the 
 Almighty." But then it is also true, that every 
 such faculty, and conscience among the rest, de- 
 pends mainly for its development^ for both the man- 
 ner and degree of its development^ on education, 
 including under this term all the influences which 
 are intentionally or unintentionally brought to bear 
 upon it. And this being the case, who does not 
 see that one man's conscience may be better than 
 another's, just as one man's understanding or taste 
 may be better than another's, and again that the 
 same man's conscience may be better at one time 
 than at another ? 
 
 There is also another important distinction to be 
 made in respect to conscience. Its authority is 
 sometimes said to be supreme and final. And so it 
 is, in a certain sense ; that is to say, it is supreme 
 and final over every other kind of human motive 
 and inducement ; should a conflict arise, our sense 
 of what is right ought to prevail, in all cases, over 
 our sense of what is expedient or agreeable. But 
 the authority of conscience is not supreme and final 
 in such a sense as to forbid conscience itself from 
 revising, and, if need be, reversing, its own past 
 decisions. I may appeal at any time from my con- 
 science less instructed to my conscience more instruct- 
 ed, and under these circumstances what was right 
 
138 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 to me yesterday, may become wrong to me to-day; 
 and what is right to me to-day, may become wrong 
 to me to-morrow. Indeed, it is hardly proper to 
 speak of this as something which may be ; it ought 
 to be, and must be, as men advance in wisdom and 
 virtue. All will agree, I suppose, that self-culture, 
 including moral progress, is a duty ; and also that 
 one of the most essential parts of this duty is the 
 duty of clearing up our conceptions of right and 
 wrong, especially in reference to the more com- 
 plicated rules of duty, and to the application of 
 these rules to the more complicated affairs of life. 
 Preachers may say what they will, still the fact is 
 indisputable, that good men, even the best men, are 
 often at a less what to do, — at a loss what course 
 to take. The perplexity here referred to does not 
 arise, certainly not in all cases, from unwillingness 
 to face the difficulty, or to make the sacrifices, at- 
 tending the right course, but from real ignorance 
 or doubt as to which is the right course. This, to 
 be sure, is not likely to happen in simple and plain 
 cases of duty; but simple and plain cases of duty 
 are not met with in life as often as they are in 
 books. In life things are jumbled together very 
 unscientifically. More than half our duties relate 
 to matters only indirectly connected with morals ; 
 or to measures, customs, or institutions, where the 
 moral question is so mixed up with other ques- 
 
CONSCIENCE. 139 
 
 tions, as to make it easy for us to deceive our- 
 selves, or be deceived by others, and easier still 
 to take up with the current opinion without ex- 
 amination. Hence our need not only of a con- 
 science, but of an enlightened conscience, — of a 
 conscience willing to revise its old decisions under 
 new lights, and to correct them if necessary. 
 
 But if conscience itself is an improvable faculty, 
 and if, in its legitimate action to-day, it can revise 
 and reverse its own decisions of yesterday, the ques- 
 tion naturally arises. Is there anything in conscience 
 which is fixed and absolute ? 
 
 I answer, Yes. The things which are fixed and 
 absolute in conscience — that is to say, the things 
 which are the same in all consciences, and the same 
 in every conscience at all times — would seem to be 
 these three. In the first place, all consciences make 
 a distinction between actions as being right or 
 wrong ; secondly, the notion of right, as such, or 
 of wrong, as such, is identical to all minds ; and, 
 thirdly, all concur in the feeling that they ought 
 to do what they believe to be right. 
 
 So far conscience is fixed, absolute, infallible. 
 But let us understand ourselves. In saying that 
 all consciences make a distinction between actions, 
 classifying some as right and others as wrong, we 
 do not mean that all make the same distinction 
 in the sense of making the same classification. The 
 
140 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 simple conception of right and wrong is identical 
 to all minds; when, however, we are called upon 
 to apply this conception to complicated actions and 
 dispositions, nothing hinders us from differing from 
 one another, and even from ourselves at different 
 times, on the question, under which head a par- 
 ticular action or disposition, a particular institution 
 or measure, is to be classed. Strictly speaking, we 
 never differ as to the distinction between right and 
 wrong, but only as to the application of this dis- 
 tinction in certain cases ; and here, too, the differ- 
 ence arises, not from our not understanding the 
 distinction between right and wrong, but for the 
 most part from our not understanding the meas- 
 ures, the actions, or the states of mind to be judged. 
 Moreover, though all concur, as I have said, in 
 feeling that we ought to do what is right, nothing 
 hinders that this feeling should exist in different 
 minds, and in the same mind at different times, in 
 very different degrees ; — in some hardly appreciable ; 
 in others, so intense as to make the pains and pleas- 
 ures of conscience their chief happiness or misery. 
 Still the feeling itself never changes its essential 
 character. Under no circumstances whatever can 
 the moral sentiments with which acknowledged vir- 
 tue and vice are respectively regarded be made to 
 change places. We may approve a wrong action, 
 mistaking it for a right one ; we may also incline 
 
CONSCIENCE. . 141 
 
 to a wrong action, notwithstanding it is wrong, 
 from motives of interest or self-indulgence ; but no 
 perversion of nature or education can make us feel 
 that we ought to do what we know to be wrong, or 
 that we ought not to do what we know to be right. 
 
 I dwell on these distinctions, because I would not 
 be thought to suppose or imply, in speaking of 
 conscience as an improvable faculty, that conscience 
 is wholly factitious^ — the creature of circumstances, 
 of training, of caprice. I believe no such thing. 
 If there is a mutable, there is also an immutable 
 element in conscience. In its principle and essence, 
 conscience is not an arbitrary thing ; it is not some- 
 thing which experience and education put into men, 
 but something which they bring out, by bringing 
 out his moral nature, — though, in different men, in 
 very different degrees and proportions. The con- 
 science of each individual is a special development 
 of our common moral nature ; — a more or less per- 
 fect development, but still a development of our 
 common moral nature, and therefore always mani- 
 festing, more or less perfectly, the essential and 
 unchanging properties of that nature, and so far 
 always the same. It is only necessary that we 
 should avoid confounding a man's conscience with 
 his moral nature, just as we avoid confounding a 
 man's actual taste with his aesthetic nature. They 
 are two things distinct in themselves, and always to 
 
142 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 be kept so in our thoughts. A man's moral na- 
 ture is his innate capacity of moral discrimination ; 
 it is part and parcel of our common human na- 
 ture, and, for anything known to the contrary, is 
 the same in all men. But this moral nature, this 
 innate capacity of moral discrimination, may be 
 wholly latent^ as in the case of infants, who cannot 
 be said to have any consciences, though they have 
 a moral nature ; and it is more or less so in adults. 
 What we insist upon is, that a man's conscience, 
 properly so-called, does not include that part of 
 his moral nature which is still latent ; it consists 
 of that part only which has been put forth, which 
 has come out into consciousness and activity. In 
 other words, the conscience of an individual is, as 
 I have said, a special development of our common 
 moral nature, more or less true, more or less .com- 
 plete, but not likely to be identical in any two 
 persons. 
 
 And so the Scriptures. They speak, indeed, of 
 conscience as " showing," as " bearing witness to," 
 as revealing, but not as being " the work of the 
 law written in men's hearts." While they repre- 
 sent some as acting from " a pure conscience " and 
 " a good conscience," they say of others, " But 
 even their mind and conscience is defiled ; " and 
 again, " Having their conscience seared with a hot 
 iron." They also ask, " Yea, and why even of 
 
CONSCIENCE. 143 
 
 yourselves judge ye not what is right?" — clearly 
 implying two things ; first, that our consciences may 
 judge amiss, and, secondly, that they often do so 
 from defects which we might ourselves supply by 
 reflection and discipline. 
 
 I return, therefore, to the position taken in the 
 beginning : whether we consult reason, or experi- 
 ence, or Scripture, we come to the conclusion, that 
 conscience is an improvable faculty. It is a mis- 
 take to suppose that all men share a common con- 
 science ; they share, and perhaps equally, a common 
 -moral nature, but this common moral nature be- 
 comes conscience, as the very name imports, only in 
 so far as it is put forth into consciousness and ac- 
 tivity, only in so far as it is developed and made 
 effective in the individual. Each man's conscience 
 is a special development of our common moral na- 
 ture ; and each man's duty in respect to it is, to 
 take care that this special development shall be 
 more and more complete, and more and more effec- 
 tive ; in short, that he may have a better conscience 
 to obey, and obey it more faithfully. 
 
 It only remains to consider the means and ap- 
 pliances by which this twofold improvement, this 
 progress, at the same time, in conscience and in 
 conscientiousness, may be promoted and secured. 
 
 The first condition is, a habit of attending to the 
 moral aspects and bearings of things, and especially 
 
144 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 of our own dispositions and conduct ; in one word, 
 moral thonghtfulness. This would be true, even if 
 we started in life with a conscience ready formed. 
 We are affected by what we at present know or 
 believe, only in so far as we attend to it ; and hence 
 an apparent anomaly often noticed. Some men are 
 a great deal better, and others a great deal worse 
 than their principles, meaning thereby the moral 
 and religious principles really held by them, but not 
 attended to. And this remark applies with tenfold 
 force, where the principles, as in the case of a 
 man's conscience, are not only to be held, but de- 
 veloped. Wliy is it that among savages the animal 
 instincts and passions are developed so dispropor- 
 tionately ? Because there the animal instincts and 
 passions are almost the only things thought of, or 
 appealed to. Why is it that during long periods 
 of moral and social degeneracy almost every manly 
 and unselfish quality of human nature seems to die 
 out ? It is simply because these qualities are not 
 put forth ; and they are not put forth because they 
 are not cared for or appreciated. And how are the 
 great epochs of awakening and reform to be ex- 
 plained ? Simply by the fact that, somehow or 
 other, the public attention is thoroughly aroused to 
 the public needs, often by a sense of the very 
 depths of the public infamy and despair. At first 
 the thought seizes hold of here and there a leading 
 
CONSCIENCE. 145 
 
 mind ; gradually it becomes the ever-present thought 
 of the community, of the age ; and human nature 
 reasserts its noblest qualities once more. Why is 
 it, that on some points, such, for example, as peace, 
 temperance, and human rights, our consciences are 
 evidently in advance of the consciences of our fathers, 
 while on many others it is equally evident that the 
 reverse is true ? Simply and solely because the 
 former points are more attended to by us : we are 
 more alive to them ; they are more in our thoughts. 
 It is moral thoughtfulness, taking the special direc- 
 tion given to it by the age. 
 
 A second necessary condition of the twofold 
 moral progress required — of progress in both con- 
 science and conscientiousness — is found in a deter- 
 mination to do right, cost what it may ; in other 
 words, to moral thoughtfulness we must add an in- 
 vincible moral purpose. We often hear it said, that 
 men mean well enough when they start in life, even 
 though afterwards led astray by temptation ; but 
 this remark is true only in a very limited and 
 qualified sense. I do not suppose that many start 
 in life with a determination to become murderers, 
 robbers, rogues, or drunkards ; their error consists, 
 not in starting with a had moral purpose, but with 
 no moral purpose ; at least, with none that is don- 
 trolling and effectual. They are looking to ease, 
 pleasure, success : the best that can be said of them 
 
 7 J 
 
146 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 under a moral point of view is, that they hope and 
 perhaps expect to gain their objects without falling 
 into crime. Not one man in a thousand, in choosing 
 his profession, or laying down his plan of life, is in- 
 fluenced solely or mainly by a purpose to make him- 
 self as perfect as possible in the sight of God. 
 
 And this is not all. Much of what passes for fidel- 
 ity to conscience is nothing but fidelity to prejudice or 
 to party. A man is educated in a set of principles, 
 which may be right or may be wrong, or, more 
 probably still, partly right and partly wrong, or he 
 is converted to such a set of principles, and after- 
 wards deems it sufficient to be true to these prin- 
 ciples ; as if duty were nothing but an inexorable 
 consistency. The double progress incumbent on all 
 men makes it necessary for us to put to ourselves, 
 at least at every important turn of our affairs, not 
 one question only, but two, — Am I faithful to my 
 principles ? and. Are my principles what they should 
 be ? Neglect of the latter is as much of an im- 
 morality as neglect of the former. Remember, the 
 moral purpose, of which I speak as being at the 
 foundation of a good life, is not a purpose to obey 
 our consciences as they are, whether well or ill-ad- 
 vised, but a purpose to do right; and this involves 
 the purpose, to endeavor to find out what is riglit, 
 that we may do it ; and this, again, the still rarer 
 and more difficult purpose, to bring to the subject 
 
CONSCIENCE. 147 
 
 that fairness and earnestness of mind which is in- 
 dispensable to practical wisdom ; and, above all, to 
 shun those illusions, deceits, self-indulgences and 
 sins, by which so many are given over to a repro- 
 bate mind, " to believe a lie." 
 
 The progress insisted on in this discourse sup- 
 poses another condition ; namely, that we not only 
 obey conscience, but obey it as an echo of the Di- 
 vine will : in other words, to moral thoughtfulness 
 and a moral jDurpose we must add a sense of the 
 autlwrity and sanctions of 7'eligion. Our moral na- 
 ture is what God has made it to be ; so that when 
 conscience is a legitimate development of this na- 
 ture, it may be regarded as a Divine utterance, — 
 the voice of God, speaking in and through our 
 moral nature. Disobedience, therefore, becomes not 
 merely an offence against conscience ; it is also an 
 offence against God, bringing us under the judg- 
 ment of God. The penalty begins, I allow, in the 
 hurt done our own moral nature, — in shame and 
 remorse ; but it does not end there : if it did, con- 
 stitutional dulness in some, and blindness and hard- 
 ness of heart in others, would make them careless 
 and indifferent about it. I do not go to the ex- 
 treme of holding that there would be no conscience 
 without religion, no foundation for morality with- 
 out some recognition of the will of God. Suppose 
 all sense of the Divine being and agency to be 
 
148 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 blotted out of the human heart, I believe that con- 
 science would still lift up its voice against base- 
 ness and crime ; but in the presence of sore trial 
 and temptation, in the stress and din of conflicting 
 interests and passions and opinions, who would re- 
 gard it ? What gives effect to conscience is the 
 mysterious and salutary dread, never entirely effaced 
 even from the guilty soul, that there is an Almighty 
 Vindicator and Avenger of conscience. This feeling, 
 this principle, all should guard and nourish ; not in- 
 deed as a substitute for conscience, but as re-enforcing 
 conscience, and practically indispensable to its un- 
 folding life and power. 
 
 One condition more. To make us more observant 
 of conscience, and, at the same time, to make con- 
 science what it ought to be, we must take our 
 standard of righteousness from the New Testament. 
 To moral thoughtfulness, a moral purpose, and the 
 sanctions of religion, we must add a heart pene- 
 trated and filled with the spirit that was in our 
 Lord Jesus Christ. Without sympathizing at all 
 with those who are sometimes tempted to speak of 
 Christianity as a failure, I still cannot help think- 
 ing that its good effects, at least on the moral and 
 social condition of mankind, have not been so great 
 as might naturally have been expected. This is 
 doubtless to be ascribed, not to Christianity, but to 
 Christians, who have always been more disposed to 
 
CONSCIENCE. 149 
 
 consider the Christian scheme of salvation in its 
 relations to God, than in its relations to them- 
 selves, — his part in that scheme rather than ours. 
 Most clearly we are not to be saved by the scheme, 
 or by knowing and believing the scheme, except 
 through its effect in fitting us for the kingdom 
 of Heaven, in making us capable of the Christian 
 salvation. We are to be saved by the truth only 
 in so far as we live the truth. Let no one be 
 turned aside from tliis conclusion by fear of the 
 senseless clamor, that tliis is making salvation to 
 depend on morality, a ground on which pagans 
 might be saved as well as Christians. I am not 
 speaking here of morality, simply considered ; much 
 less of pagan morality ; but of the morality of the 
 Gospel, the morality of the Sermon on the Mount. 
 I am not speaking of mere righteousness, but of 
 " the righteousness which is of faith ; " not of 
 obedience to conscience, whether well or ill in- 
 structed, but of obedience to conscience enlight- 
 ened and sanctified by the Holy Spirit ; — " till 
 we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the 
 knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, 
 unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of 
 Christ." 
 
 Look again at the example of Paul. What a 
 noble declaration was that with which he was able 
 to begin his defence before his countrymen : " Men 
 
150 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 and brethren, I have lived in all good conscience 
 before God until this day." Still he was not con- 
 tent with this, and therefore he says, in another 
 place : " Not as though I had already attained, 
 either were already perfect ; but I follow after, if 
 that I may apprehend that for which also I am ap- 
 prehended of Christ Jesus. Brethren, I count not 
 myself to have apprehended ; but this one thing I 
 do : forgetting those things which are behind, and 
 reaching forth to those things which are before, I 
 press toward the mark, for the prize of the high 
 calling of God in Christ Jesus." Here lay the 
 secret of his greatness. He did not rely on a 
 morbidly sensitive conscience, the vain refuge of 
 fanatics ; nor yet on the hard rigor of an obstinate 
 conscience, the still vainer refuge of bigots ; but on 
 a conscience as quick to learn as to feel, — a con- 
 science speaking with the authority of God, and 
 therefore listening reverently to every new revelation 
 from God, insisting on the law of progress, and there- 
 fore the more ready to be itself included under 
 that law, accepting life as a struggle, and turning 
 that struggle into a victory. Hence the triumphant 
 words with which he could look forward to his 
 death are nobler even than those with which, in 
 the text, he had looked back on his past life. " I 
 am now ready to be offered, and the time of my 
 departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight ; 
 
CONSCIENCE. 151 
 
 I have finished my course ; I have kept the faith. 
 Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of 
 righteousness which the Lord, the righteous Judge, 
 shall give me at that day ; and not to me only, but 
 unto all those also that love his appearing." 
 
MOTIVES. 
 
 WHILE I WAS MUSING THE FIKE BURNED. — Psalm XXxix. 3. 
 
 When we witness the performance of a noble 
 deed, when we become acquainted with a noble 
 character, when we read the life of a great and 
 good man, we are tempted to ascribe his superiority, 
 in great measure at least, to a difference of circum- 
 stances. " He has had facilities, incentives, motives," 
 we are apt to say, " such as have not fallen to the 
 lot of most men. Give us the same facilities, give 
 us the same incentives and motives to virtue, and we 
 should be glad to do as he has done. The differ- 
 ence in his moral attainments is mainly owing to 
 the different influences under which he has acted. 
 He has felt motives which we have not." 
 
 Undoubtedly there is a sense in which this is 
 true. He has felt motives which we have not. But 
 luhy has he felt them? 
 
 To answer this question, we must begin by an- 
 swering several others on which it depends. What 
 are motives ? What gives efficacy to one motive 
 
MOTIVES. 153 
 
 over another in particular cases ? And why is it, 
 that while this man is alive to the highest motives 
 of human conduct, that man is alive only to the 
 lowest ? We must press each of these questions home, 
 and then, perhaps, it will appear, that what is often 
 set forward as an excuse, is only another ground 
 for humiliation and self-reproach. 
 
 In the first place, then, ivhat are motives^ externally 
 considered? All will agree, I suppose, that they do 
 not act on the mind as impulse acts on bodies ; that 
 is, by virtue of a power or momentum which they 
 possess in themselves, and independently of the per- 
 sons moved. Neither is it a mere transference of 
 motion from one body to another ; as when one ball 
 strikes another ball, and causes it to move. Motives 
 act on the mind, it is true, but not until the mind 
 has first acted on them. They act on the mind 
 accordingly as they affect the mind ; but then they 
 affect the mind according to the view which the 
 mind is led by its prevailing habits and dispositions 
 to take of them. Set before a promiscuous collec- 
 tion of men a great variety of motives, — such as 
 ease, pleasure, wealth, influence, fame, conscious in- 
 tegrity, — and you will soon perceive that the law 
 of elective affinities holds as good in the moral as 
 in the natural world. Each individual will be 
 affected mainly, if not exclusively, by that class of 
 motives which falls in with his prevailing habits 
 
 7* 
 
154 MOTIVES. 
 
 and dispositions. One will give up everything to 
 enjoy ease ; another will risk everything to indulge 
 in pleasure ; a third will do anything and every- 
 thing to obtain wealth, influence, or fame ; a fourth 
 is only anxious that he may do what is right. 
 Thus one man is influenced and determined by one 
 motive, and another by another ; and yet none can 
 complain, that all the motives were not set before 
 him. 
 
 Motives, then, are considerations set before a 
 rational being, not to move him, in the strict sense 
 of that word, but to induce him to move himself. 
 After all, the principle of motion is not in the 
 motive, but in the man himself. Strictly speaking, 
 in our voluntary acts we are never moved ; we 
 always move ourselves. The motive, externally con- 
 sidered, is the reason or consideration for acting, or 
 not acting, in a particular way ; which, of course, 
 will be attended to and appreciated very differently 
 by different persons, and so affect them very differ- 
 ently. 
 
 Let us next consider, what gives efficacy to one 
 motive over another in particular cases ? An opinion 
 prevails on this subject, which, though true to a 
 certain extent, may be pushed too far. It is said 
 that motives affect us through the concurrence of 
 good or bad dispositions previously existing in our 
 own minds. Of course, nobody will deny that where 
 
MOTIVES. 155 
 
 the motive falls in with a strong propensity already- 
 existing in the mind, it is much more likely to 
 prevail on that account. But we should remem- 
 ber, there was a time when this propensity had not 
 begun to manifest itself, and that it never would 
 have manifested itself at all except on condition of 
 some motive which had power to awaken it, — to 
 call it forth. Now what gives to motives this power 
 to call forth a latent propensity, or disposition of 
 the soul, in the first instance ? We might say, in 
 general, that it is owing to a certain correspondence 
 or mutual adaptation between the motive and the 
 disposition, — one to excite, and the other to be 
 excited. But this does not explain the difficulty, 
 why it is that the same motive does not have the 
 same effect on all men, and on the same man at 
 all times. Therefore, to answer the question more 
 explicitly, we should say, that it is the actual feel- 
 ing or perception of this correspondence or mutual 
 adaptation between the motive and the disposition 
 to be awakened thereby. It is not enough that the 
 quality exists ; the individual must feel^ must per- 
 ceive that it exists, or else to him it does not exist. 
 Those who perceive it, and attend to it, and give 
 themselves up to it, are affected ; those who do not 
 are not affected. 
 
 And now we are prepared to take up the third 
 question. Why is it, that while one man is alive to 
 
156 MOTIVES. 
 
 the higher motives of human conduct^ another is alive 
 only to the lower motives? Something doubtless is 
 attributable to difference of organization and tem- 
 perament, but not the whole. If it were, how should 
 we be able to account for material and essential 
 changes in moral and religious sensibility, which the 
 same individual often undergoes ? In the case of 
 repentance, involving a real change of heart, it will 
 hardly be pretended that this alters a man's organ- 
 ization or temperament ; and yet how entirely it 
 alters his sensibility to moral and religious motives. 
 These motives were always before him ; but he did 
 not see them, or at least he did not feel them, 
 as he does now. In this respect he differs from 
 his former self, just as all good men differ from 
 all bad men ; nevertheless, organically considered, 
 he is the same man he always has been. So like- 
 wise of acquired habits, considered as predisposing 
 men to be affected by certain motives. If we say, 
 that a man is alive to the highest motives merely 
 from his acquired habits and predispositions, then 
 the question arises, how it is that, under the influ- 
 ence of motives, these habits and predispositions 
 were acquired in the first instance ; and again, how 
 it is, that, under the influence of new and counter- 
 acting motives, they are sometimes radically changed. 
 In the case of a rational, moral, and free being 
 there must be something which modifies and rules 
 
MOTIVES. 157 
 
 mere organization and habit ; and this something 
 would seem to be the power of certain external in- 
 citements or motives to evoke slumbering elements 
 of the soul, to bring out latent principles of action 
 in the first instance, and thus to give, as it were, a 
 new pitch to the whole character. And, other things 
 being equal, this power is felt by the individual just 
 in proportion as the incitement or motive is attended 
 to^ — attention being the means through which it is 
 brought into connection with the mind, and acts on 
 the soul. 
 
 There is no exception to this law. Even what 
 has just been conceded to organization and predis- 
 position, natural or acquired, resolves itself at last 
 into this law. Why is it that motives have more 
 influence over the mind in proportion as it is in 
 any way predisposed to be affected by them? The 
 chief, if not the sole reason, is, that such a mind 
 gives them more attention and thought, enters into 
 them more fully and entirely as realities, returns to 
 them more frequently, and dwells upon them to 
 the exclusion of other things. It is not that such 
 a person is moved without attending, but only that 
 he is more sure to attend ; for his heart is in it, 
 which is the great condition of earnest and un- 
 divided attention. 
 
 Hence it follows, that serious and earnest atten- 
 tion to the highest motives of human conduct 
 
158 MOTIVES. 
 
 awakens and calls out the highest and best affec- 
 tions of the soul ; and again, it is only by renewing 
 this attention from day to day, that these affections 
 are kept alive and rendered more and more intense. 
 In the words of the text : " While I was musing 
 the fire burned." For this reason the Scriptures 
 everywhere lay great stress on meditation and holy 
 contemplation, on communing with God and our 
 own souls, and having our conversation in heaven, 
 as the conditions of " newness of life." " Beholding 
 as in a glass the glory of the Lord, we are changed 
 into the same image from glory to glory, as by the 
 spirit of the Lord." 
 
 If, then, we do not feel the highest motives of 
 human conduct, it is not because they are not set 
 before us, nor yet because we are incapable of 
 feeling them, but because we do not attend to 
 them. 
 
 To this, however, an objection will be likely to 
 occur to most minds, which I hasten to notice. 
 It will be said, that there are those who have 
 made the highest motives of human conduct, that 
 is, moral and religious considerations, not only ob- 
 jects of attention, but the study of their whole lives, 
 and thus have become eminent philosophers and 
 theologians, who nevertheless do not feel these mo- 
 tives any more, if indeed they do as much, as many 
 an ignorant and simple-hearted Christian who never 
 
MOTIVES. 159 
 
 entered into an inquiry on the subject, and never 
 had a doubt. 
 
 The fact is admitted ; but in order to reconcile 
 it with what has been advanced, it is only neces- 
 sary to point out an obvious distinction between 
 speculation and meditation; between that reflection 
 which is the act of a questioning spirit, and that 
 reflection which is the act of a believing' spirit. It 
 is the principal business of the philosopher and the- 
 ologian to prove the truth and reality of the moral 
 and religious motives ; but this is to attend to the 
 evidence of the motives, and not to the motives 
 themselves. How can a man be said to attend to 
 a motive, as a motive, until he is prepared to take 
 for granted its truth and reality? for if it is not 
 true and real, it is not a motive ; it does not exist 
 to be the object of his attention as a motive. He 
 is only inquiring whether there is such a motive 
 or not. Nay, more ; if he has spent much time in 
 discussing the truth and reality of the higher mo- 
 tives, even though he should at last decide the ques- 
 tion in the affirmative, as often as he returns to 
 the subject the old habit will be apt to be revived, 
 and he will find himself considering, not what these 
 motives are, but whether they exist. This is the 
 penalty, or at least the danger, of an inquisitive and 
 speculative turn of mind, and accounts for the al- 
 leged moral and religious coldness and insensibility 
 
160 MOTIVES. 
 
 of some philosophers and theologians, without making 
 it to be an exception to the law laid down above. 
 If the simple-hearted Christian is more alive to 
 moral and religious motives, it is because these 
 motives are more frequently and intimately present 
 to his soul, as realities; — not perhaps as questions, 
 but as realities. The law, therefore, holds good, as 
 before. A peculiar connection or correspondence 
 subsists between certain motives and considerations, 
 and the dispositions and affections which they are 
 adapted to awaken and evoke. It is only necessary 
 for us to give our minds and hearts to these mo- 
 tives and considerations, until we enter into their 
 nature, and then that nature, the grace of God 
 consenting, will do the rest. " While I was musing 
 the fire burned." 
 
 Taking this principle along with us, we shall not 
 find much difficulty in explaining some of the 
 greatest perplexities of the Christian life. 
 
 In the first place, it will help us to define, with 
 sufficient distinctness at least for all practical pur- 
 poses, the office of free will. Whatever may be true 
 in theory, there can be no doubt that, in practice, we 
 are generally disappointed, when we expect a great 
 deal from man's self-determining power. The reason 
 is, not that this power does not exist, but that it is 
 not applied at the right time, and in the right 
 place. No doubt I may say, it depends on myself 
 
MOTIVES. 161 
 
 whether I see a particular object, or not, because 
 it depends on myself whether I open my eyes, and 
 look in that direction, or not. But supposing me 
 to keep my eyes shut, or to look in another di- 
 rection, then certainly it does not depend on my- 
 self whether I see that object, or not. Just so in 
 respect to the influence of the higher, that is to 
 say, the Christian motives. I may say, and say with 
 truth, that it depends on myself, under God, whether 
 I feel, and am affected by, these motives, because it 
 depends on myself whether I attend to them, and 
 put myself in the way of them, and seek to enter 
 into their spirit, and bring them, as it were, into 
 contact with my nature. But if from any cause 
 I refuse or neglect to do this, then, of course, I 
 shall not feel these motives, nor be affected by 
 them, let me desire it or will it ever so much. 
 In the action of any motive three conditions are 
 implied : first, the nature of the motive ; secondly, 
 our own nature considered as adapted to be affected 
 thereby ; and, thirdly, attention on our part, by which 
 the motive and our nature are brought together. 
 Now the first two of these conditions are given 
 quantities in all cases : the third is the only one 
 which remains to be determined ; and that we may 
 either determine for ourselves, or, like many, drift- 
 ing with the current of events, we may allow it to 
 be determined for us. 
 
162 MOTIVES. 
 
 Again ; the same principle will help to explain 
 why it is, that when men become decidedly relig- 
 ious it is often in consequence of some startling 
 or impressive event, — the death of a friend, a re- 
 markable escape, a pungent discourse, a striking 
 remark, a dream, a thought. It may be said that 
 such an occurrence does not add one iota to the 
 number or the strength of the motives to a Chris- 
 tian life which these persons had, and which they 
 knew they had, before. And this is true ; but it 
 calls attention to those motives; and this, as we 
 have seen, is all that was wanted. As a general 
 rule, men are not insensible to religious motives 
 because they are ignorant of them, or because they 
 do not believe in them, or because they think them 
 of secondary importance ; but simply and solely be- 
 cause they do not attend to them. Their minds are 
 taken up with other things. And if you ask again, 
 how it happens that their minds are taken up by 
 other things, though confessedly of less importance, 
 the answer is ready. Though these other things 
 are confessedly of less importance on the whole, 
 and in the long run, they are nevertheless much 
 more obvious, and more immediately pressing. Com- 
 mon and worldly motives are spread, if I may so 
 express it, on the outside of things : they are ob- 
 truded on our notice ; we cannot shut our eyes 
 upon them if we would ; we can hardly help at- 
 
MOTIVES. 163 
 
 tending to them, and attending to them continu- 
 ally. On the contrary, spiritual considerations, those 
 which address themselves peculiarly to Christians, 
 lie deeper : they are not forced on our regards by 
 the necessities of our physical condition ; we can 
 attend to them, or not, as we please. Nay, to 
 attend to them as we ought, to enter into their full 
 significancy, to make them intimately present to our 
 souls, — in one word, to make what is unseen to 
 be real to the eye of the mind, so that it shall 
 affect us as if it were seen by the eye of the body, 
 — this supposes a degree of abstraction from earthly 
 things, and an ascendency of reason or conscience 
 over sense, which, in the present state of human 
 culture and public morals, are hardly to be ex- 
 pected in the bulk of mankind, unless their at- 
 tention is aroused by some startling event. 
 
 Once more ; the view here taken of the manner 
 in which men become alive to the highest motives 
 will also account satisfactorily for local and tem- 
 porary excitements in morals and religion. These 
 are sometimes referred to sympathy and imitation, 
 and even to causes less pure. Much of what is 
 superficial and transient in them, and many of the 
 attendant circumstances, are doubtless to be ex- 
 plained in this way ; but not the whole. What is 
 real and lasting in these movements has its origin 
 in the general attention to the subject which, some- 
 
164 MOTIVES. 
 
 how or other, has been awakened. No new motives 
 are discovered or invented. It is not pretended 
 that any new motives are discovered or invented. 
 The selfsame motives and considerations are urged 
 which have been urged for a thousand years : the 
 difference in the effect is owing to the greater at- 
 tention which is paid to them ; and this attention 
 is more likely to be fixed, earnest, and continual, 
 from the fact that the whole community is attend- 
 ing to the same subjects at the same time. 
 
 Take as a familiar illustration of this law the 
 Temperance Reform. It is not pretended that men 
 have found out any new motives for being tem- 
 perate, or any new means of resisting temptations 
 to intemperance. All the topics, all, at least, which 
 are of much real weight, are old and trite, perhaps 
 beyond those of any other subject which can be 
 named. The movement, the marvel, the miracle, 
 as some are disposed to account it, is to be ascribed 
 to the increased attention which is given to these 
 topics ; and what may be termed the machinery of 
 the movement is valuable only in proportion as it 
 has a tendency to arrest and hold this attention. 
 
 The same is also true of what are called Revivals 
 of Religion, affecting whole churches and whole com- 
 munities. So far as they may be resolved into 
 sympathy, imitation, or nervous excitability, they are 
 nothing in a moral and religious point of view. 
 
MOTIVES. 165 
 
 But it is hardly to be presumed that meu can 
 meet together to talk about religion, and go home 
 to think about it, day after day, that religion should 
 thus become the one object of interest in public 
 and private for a long time, and yet that no minds 
 should be affected by it deeply and permanently. 
 Still, in this case, it is not because any new con- 
 siderations are set before them; the considerations, 
 the motives, are not new ; the interest, the attention, 
 — that only is new. 
 
 This, then, would seem to be the true theory of 
 motives. God, in his works and Word, has set before 
 us all reasons, inducements, considerations fitted to 
 call forth the best parts of our nature, and so to 
 lay the foundation of the noblest traits of character. 
 But in order that these reasons, inducements, con- 
 siderations may have any effect, they must be 
 brought into contact, so to speak, with our nature ; 
 and this can only be done by our attending to 
 them, — voluntarily, solemnly, earnestly; and attend- 
 ing to them, not in a questioning, but in a believing 
 spirit. It is not enough that the motives really 
 exist : before they can be said to exist for us, we 
 must believe them to exist. Nay, it is not enough 
 that we believe them to exist, for we are not 
 affected by the simple fact that they exist, but by 
 what they are in their own nature ; which is such 
 that we cannot attend to it and dwell upon it with- 
 
166 MOTIVES, 
 
 out feeling our own nature to be touched and trans- 
 formed. " While I was musing the fire burned." 
 
 Let me then, in concluding, ask you to revert 
 once more to the plea so often set up by the un- 
 devout, the indifferent, the worldly-minded : — to wit, 
 that they do not feel the motives to virtue and 
 piety which good men do. The fact is admitted ; 
 but wlien we come to analyze it, we find that, in 
 most cases at least, it turns out to be, not an ex- 
 cuse, but a part of the wrong. As we have seen, 
 they do not distinguish, they do not believe, they 
 do not feel, because they do not attend. But atten- 
 tion is pre-eminently a voluntary act, and one, there- 
 fore, in respect to which all are pre-eminently free 
 and responsible. Undoubtedly some men have more 
 outward changes than others, — more admonitory and 
 startling providences to arouse attention and direct 
 it to higher and more enduring objects. But these 
 things are not indispensable ; neither is it in this 
 way that the virtue of the eminently good is usually 
 built up. It is enough for the latter if reason and 
 conscience pronounce the course to be fit and right ; 
 they do not require to be dragooned into duty. 
 Besides, who is willing to say, or to believe, that 
 he is always determined from without, and never 
 from within. That there are such men I do not 
 deny, men who practically disown and abdicate the 
 power to choose for themselves even what they will 
 
MOTIVES. 167 
 
 attend to, that is to say, in what direction they 
 will look. But who, I ask again, would consent to 
 take his place in such company, — the seaweed and 
 driftwood of society, collecting here or there just as 
 the wind, the tide, or the eddy happens to set ? 
 TVe must take care, and not seek self-justification in 
 what must bring with it self-scorn. 
 
 The way, then, is open. You complain that you 
 do not feel the higher motives of human conduct 
 as good men do. Depend upon it, it is because 
 you do not attend to them as good men do ; and 
 this again is because you do not try to attend to 
 them as good men do, — I do not mean, as matters 
 of speculation, but as matters of reality and holy 
 trust. The imutterable love of God, the gentleness, 
 the sinlessness, the self-sacrifice of Jesus, the peace 
 and dignity of vii'tue, the anticipated bliss of heaven, 
 
 — it is not in human nature that we should be 
 practically familiar with such thoughts without being 
 touched and transformed. I do not say, in a mo- 
 ment; for the change is not a mechanical wrench, 
 but a living process : the words of the text express 
 the law, " While I was musing the fire burned," 
 
 — the true, sacred fire of the earth, which kindles 
 the aspirations of struggling virtue, which glows in 
 the heart of the patriot, the philanthropist, and the 
 Christian, and which the many waters of death can- 
 not quench. 
 
CHAKACTER. 
 
 WHEREWITH SHALL A YOUNG MAN CLEANSE HIS WAY ? BY TAKING 
 HEED THERETO ACCORDING TO THY WORD. — Psalm Cxix. 9. 
 
 In modern discourses on practical religion much 
 is said about habits and character. It is remarkable 
 that neither of these words is to be met with in 
 the Bible. But though the words are not there, the 
 sense is. The Bible has as little as possible to do 
 with abstractions and generalities. What we call a 
 man's habits, the Bible calls his ways; and what 
 we call a man's character, the Bible calls his life. 
 
 The text, interpreted by the light of this prin- 
 ciple, introduces the question. How is a young 
 man, or any man, to form his habits? and also the 
 still more important one, How is he to mould 
 these habits into character, so as really to have a 
 character and a Christian character. 
 
 What is character^ as that word is here under- 
 stood ? 
 
 Not surely reputation; for a man may have a 
 reputation, that is, be distinguished and notorious, 
 
CHARACTER. 169 
 
 for the want of character. And besides, reputation 
 is not what a man is or has in himself, but what 
 he is said to be or to have. By character, as the 
 term is used in this discourse, we mean a man's 
 actual state ; — not the opinion, true or false, enter- 
 tained respecting him. 
 
 In what, then, I ask again, does it consist ? Not 
 surelj in passion, propensity, predisposition. A man 
 who acts from the feeling which happens to be 
 uppermost at the time may have good or bad im- 
 pulses ; but he cannot be said to have a character. 
 Sometimes, in common parlance, a man of strong 
 natural aptitudes and proclivities is called a man 
 of strong character ; but it is a mistake, or, more 
 properly, a misnomer: the utmost that can be said 
 of such a person is, that he has the materials of a 
 strong character. It is indispensable to character 
 that a man should act from habit, and not from 
 passion. The passion may give rise to the habit, 
 and act through it ; still character supposes some- 
 thing more stable than passion ; there must be 
 habit to determine us, even when the passion is not 
 felt. 
 
 Hence some have made character to be the sum 
 total of a man^s habits. Will this definition satisfy 
 all the conditions of tlie case ? I think not. A 
 jumble of habits will no more make a character 
 than a jumble of passions. Habits often grow up 
 
170 CHARACTER. 
 
 blindly and indeterminately, without a single care 
 or thought on the part of the individual acquiring 
 them. Such habits have no more to do with the 
 formation of character, properly so called, than the 
 blind and indeterminate action of the passions them- 
 selves. Take, for example, indolent or intemperate 
 habits, which men do not so much form as fall 
 into. The truth is, such habits are but passions 
 under another form, — just as blind and indeter- 
 minate, only more constant. And this is not all. 
 A man may be addicted to inconsistent and con- 
 tradictory habits, just as he may be the slave of 
 inconsistent and contradictory passions. Of course 
 in such cases one set of habits will exclude the 
 other for the time being, but not from taking its 
 turn as the scene shifts. Have you never met with 
 a man who seemed to act from one set of habits 
 when things went well with him, and from an- 
 other set of habits when things went amiss, — from 
 one set of habits when in society, and from a totally 
 different set when alone ? If then the sum total of 
 a man's habits, any how constituted, is all that is 
 wanting to character, you would make such a man 
 to have two, or three, or four characters ; which is 
 the very reverse of what we mean by having a 
 character' ^ — that is, something by which he is al- 
 ways known. 
 
 Character, therefore, in the highest and truest 
 
CHARACTER. 171 
 
 sense of that word, supposes not one thing only, 
 but two things. In the first place, it is made up 
 of habits; and, in the second place, these habits 
 must be shaped and moulded into a consistent and 
 harmonious whole. The character is more or less 
 complete and perfect according to the degree of its 
 consistency, and the entireness with which the whole 
 is filled up and rounded out. 
 
 Adopting this definition, it would plainly be most 
 unreasonable to expect a person to begin life with 
 a character already formed. He cannot do it. We 
 are not born with a character, good or bad, but 
 only with a capacity to form one. However widely 
 children differ from each other in their aptitudes 
 and predispositions, that is to say, in the elements 
 of a future character, they agree nevertheless in 
 this, that the character itself is yet to be formed. 
 All, therefore, that we have a right to require or 
 expect of a young person growing up into maturity 
 is this ; — that he should look on the formation of 
 an upright, honorable. Christian character as the 
 great business, the great success of life. 
 
 How is such a character to be formed ? 
 
 This question is not only proposed but answered 
 in the text : " Wherewith shall a young man cleanse 
 his way? By taking heed thereto according to thy 
 Word." That is to say, an upright, honorable, and 
 Christian character is to be formed by watching 
 
172 CHARACTER. 
 
 over our habits, and bringing them into conformity 
 with the highest, that is, the Christian standard of 
 truth and. duty. 
 
 In the first place, we must watch over the habits 
 we are forming' from day to day. 
 
 To inculcations of this nature it has sometimes 
 been objected, that the health of the soul, as well 
 as that of the body, may be hurt by too much 
 looking after. And there is doubtless a sense in 
 which this is true. We do not want moral dyspep- 
 tics who are always thinking about cases of con- 
 science, any more than physical dyspeptics who are 
 always thinking about symptoms of indigestion. To 
 weigh out everything one eats or drinks at every 
 meal by grains and scruples would make him an 
 invalid, if it did not find him one. And so in 
 morals. But all this applies to a minute and pain- 
 ful scrupulosity as regards particular actions ; it has 
 nothing to do with a general watchfulness over the 
 formation of habits. Nay, one of the principal rea- 
 sons why we should be careful to form good habits 
 is, that having made sure of them, there will be 
 the less occasion to be anxious about single actions. 
 The habit of doing right will lead us to do right 
 spontaneously. It is as in learning to speak a lan- 
 guage. In the beginning we have to think of every 
 word we are going to utter, and even with this 
 precaution speak but poorly and hesitatingly. After 
 
CHAEACTER. 173 
 
 we have thoroughly mastered the language, that is, 
 have grown into the habit of speaking it, the words 
 may almost be said to come of themselves. 
 
 From this it also appears that in watching over 
 the habits we are forming from day to day, our 
 whole duty is not done by seeing to it, that no 
 bad ones are contracted. You will sometimes 
 hear it said of a man, that he has no bad habits, 
 as if this were all that could reasonably be re- 
 quired of him. But not so. The absence of bad 
 habits is but the negative side of a good character, 
 what it is not; the positive side, in other works, 
 that which makes it to be what it is, is found in 
 the good habits which go to make up its substance 
 and form. It is a great thing, I allow, not to have 
 any bad habits, — more, I am afraid, than is true 
 either of you or of me, our only hope being that 
 we have some good habits to weigh against the 
 bad. A man is not good, merely because he is not 
 bad. A great deal too much is made to depend on 
 the mere absence, real or supposed, of bad habits. 
 Even if we had no bad habits, we should still be 
 liable to bad and dangerous impulses; and what is 
 to hinder these from breaking out, from time to 
 time, into acts of license and crime, unless they 
 are restrained by one good habit at least, that of 
 self-control ? And besides, what reliance can be 
 placed on the best of impulses, considered merely 
 
174 CHARACTER. 
 
 as single, unregulated impulses ? Take generosity, 
 for example. Who has yet to learn that it is al- 
 most as likely to do harm as good, until it has 
 been trained to obey the rules imposed upon it by 
 reason and experience ? that is to say, until it has 
 ceased to act as a blind impulse, and become a 
 habit ? For the same reason, all dependence on the 
 sentiments of honor, or the sentiments of virtue, or 
 the sentiments of religion is worth but little, if 
 these sentiments are understood to end with being 
 mere sentiments ; if they do not grow into habits ; 
 if from being a mere force or impulse they do not 
 become a direction and a self-imposed law ; in 
 short, if from being a part of our undisciplined 
 nature, they do not become a part of our disciplined 
 character. 
 
 We are further to consider, in watching over the 
 formation of our habits, that actions, the most trivial 
 in themselves, if often repeated, become of great 
 and decisive importance. You have been told again 
 and again that the morality of a man's actions 
 depends on his motives ; and so it does, if you are 
 considering the morality of particular actions. But 
 if you are considering the effect of the whole on 
 his character, on the man himself^ on his moral pro- 
 gress, you must take into account consequences as 
 well as motives, — not merely how the action finds 
 him, but how it leaves him. How, in other words. 
 
CHAKACTER. 175 
 
 are his habits of thought and fcehng and conduct 
 affected thereby ? And under this point of view it 
 is not the great, but the trivial and often repeated 
 dehnquency, from which we have the most to dread. 
 Great crimes not unfrequently have the effect to 
 startle and arrest the sinner in his downward course, 
 and bring him to a pause ; at any rate, they never 
 induce the habit from which they flow. A man 
 does not contract a habit of murder ; he contracts 
 a habit of malice and cruelty, almost always little 
 by little, and murder is incident to this habit. It 
 is almost always some venial form of the offence, 
 renewed day after day, looked upon as indifferent 
 or at least as allowable, and therefore exciting no 
 compunction or alarm, provoking no indignation, 
 stealing over us under cover of outward decorum 
 and worldly respectability, which is most likely to 
 fix and rivet the accursed habit. 
 
 This, then, is the first step towards the formation 
 of a truly Christian character, — namely, to watch 
 over the influence which our daily conduct is having 
 on our habits. Of course, we must look to our 
 actions too, for they express what we are, but still 
 more to our habits, for they make us what we are. 
 Habits, of some sort or other, every one will have, 
 — habits of thinking, habits of feeling, habits of 
 acting ; the only question being, of what sort. A 
 grown-up savage is sometimes said to be still in 
 
176 CHARACTER. 
 
 a state of nature ; but it is not so : he is just as 
 much under the dominion of acquired habits as 
 you are. His dark superstitions, his stoical indiffer- 
 ence to pain, the point of honor of liis tribe, his 
 very mien and gait, are not nature ; tliey are all 
 acquired habits, — as much so as the fashions and 
 conventionalities of the most refined courts in Eu- 
 rope. And so of much that is said against educa- 
 tion, considered as forestalling the mature judgment 
 of the individual. Certain zealots for what they 
 call the free development of mind object to early 
 moral and religious training, because, forsooth, they 
 would have the child grow up into life without any 
 prejudices or leanings one way or another. But 
 have these persons yet to learn, that, whether you 
 strive to prepossess the child in favor of religion 
 or not, a thousand causes are at work to prepossess 
 him against it, or what in practice amounts to 
 nearly the same thing, against the conditions on 
 which it depends. The question is not whether 
 something or nothing shall grow in your fields ; but 
 whether it shall be corn or weeds. And not only 
 so. " One being asked, what could be the reason 
 why weeds grew more plentifully than corn, answered, 
 Because the earth was the motlier of weeds, but the 
 step-mother of corn ; that is, the one she produced 
 of her own accord, the other not till she was com- 
 pelled to it by man's toil and industry." * 
 
 * Jortin's Sermons on Different Subjects, Vol. III. p. 6. 
 
CHARACTEE. 177 
 
 Once more, therefore, let me inculcate the duty 
 incumbent on every one that lives, to watch over 
 every change in his habits, however slight, with an 
 untiring vigilance. Do not suspect me of pressing 
 the doctrine of works to the extent of excluding 
 or undervaluing the doctrine of grace. I do not 
 forget that faith is the spring of Christian holiness, 
 and that the Spirit must " help our infirmities " in 
 order to make this faith effective. But these neces- 
 sary and merciful provisions, to be of any avail to us 
 personally, mt^si^ he accepted by us personally; they 
 must become ours in the sense of entering into our 
 proper life, that is, into the inward and outward 
 habits in which our proper life consists. What our 
 habits are, we are. If they are Christian, we are 
 Christian; if they are pagan, we are pagan; — no 
 matter what may be our professions, no matter what 
 may be our connections, no matter what may be 
 our single and unconnected actions. "Many will 
 say unto me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not 
 prophesied in thy name ? and in thy name have 
 cast out devils ? and in thy name have done many 
 wonderful works ? And then will I profess unto 
 them, I never knew you. Depart from me, ye that 
 work iniquity." It is, I repeat it, a question of 
 habits ; of habits, too, which are changing every 
 hour ; and what makes the danger a thousand-fold 
 greater is, that these changes are often brought 
 
178 CHARACTER. 
 
 about by influences, concessions, delinquencies, of 
 so little moment, singly considered, as to attract no 
 notice at the time, yet by constant repetition giving 
 a radical and fatal bias to the whole character. 
 
 Depend upon it, we do not muster our defences 
 at the most exposed points, if it is against the 
 commission of great single crimes. I cannot, I will 
 not believe, that any here are on the brink of out- 
 raging the laws or public opinion by deeds of flagrant 
 injustice or infamy. But there is not one among us 
 all so wise, so circumspect, so generally well-disposed, 
 as not to be in danger of an insensible decay of his 
 good habits, or an insensible strengthening of his 
 bad habits, through the frequent repetition of what 
 are looked upon as allowable indulgences. What I 
 most fear for you, is what I most fear for myself. 
 It is, that the treating of sacred things with light- 
 ness, or even with unconcern, or seeing them fre- 
 quently so treated by others, will grow up into 
 habits of irreverence. It is that a propensity to 
 color and overstate in conversation, merely to please, 
 or for effect, will gradually weaken and confuse our 
 abiding sense of the sacredness of truth. It is that 
 obstinacy in trifles, or giving way to slight impulses 
 of impatience or anger, or the indulgence of ill- 
 humor, or the use of sharp expressions, will insen- 
 sibly generate a temper at once passionate and self- 
 willed. 
 
CHARACTER. 179 
 
 Here, I insist, — precisely here, and not in great 
 single temptations or in great single crimes, — our 
 principal danger lies. It will not do to say of the 
 small sins in question, that they are nothing. Taken 
 singly, they may not be much ; but taken together, 
 and in their connection and repetition, they go to 
 make up our habits, and our habits are everything. 
 Neither will it do to say of our minor faults, that 
 they are trifles because the first appearance of an 
 earnest purpose will scatter them to the winds. Who- 
 ever takes this ground forgets two things. In the first 
 place, he forgets that these minor faults, if repeated 
 and persisted in, will eat out the very heart and life 
 of that on which all earnestness of purpose depends. 
 And, in the second place, he forgets that the ear- 
 nest purpose, even though it should come, may come 
 too late. While we are sleeping in a false security, 
 the faults in question, pigmies though they are, will 
 have time to pin us down by innumerable threads, 
 so that when we awake, we shall find ourselves as 
 effectually bound as if by strong cords, as if by 
 fetters of iron. 
 
 I have left myself room but for one more sug- 
 gestion. As was intimated before, a jumble of 
 habits, even of good habits, will not make a char- 
 acter. These habits must be so shaped and moulded 
 as to form a consistent and harmonious whole ; and 
 to be a Christian character, this whole must express 
 
180 CHARACTER. 
 
 the Christian ideal of goodness. It is not enough 
 that a yonng man takes heed to his ways ; it must 
 be with a view to reahze, as far as human infirmity 
 will permit, the Christian conception of a perfect 
 man. Every one knows that the pagan type of 
 character is a very different thing from the Jewish 
 type of character ; and again, that the Jewish type 
 of character is a very different thing from the 
 Christian type of character. In each case the char- 
 acter required is made up, for the most part, of 
 good habits ; but the habits are combined in differ- 
 ent proportions, so that the whole expresses a dif- 
 ferent idea, exhibits a different style, of goodness. 
 
 Hence, as it seems to me, one of the first things 
 to be attended to in Christian nurture is, to keep 
 before the minds of the young, and before the 
 minds of all, the Christian conception of a perfect 
 man. How much better it would be if the primers 
 of the Church, instead of attempting to define what 
 are called " the mysteries of faith," would aim to show 
 what are the qualities of heart and life by which 
 a Christian is known. Here, also, as I cannot help 
 thinking, is the true and only practicable ground 
 of union among Christians. You cannot make men 
 agree in the abstract principles into which the 
 Christian character should be resolved ; it is enough 
 if they agree in the character itself, and manifest 
 that character in their daily conduct. 
 
CHARACTER. 181 
 
 By taking this course, we do but follow in the 
 steps of our Lord. Read his discourses ; read his 
 Sermon on the Mount : it is impossible not to see 
 that his main object is to teach men, not how to 
 speculate, but how to live ; to impress it upon us, 
 that unless our righteousness " exceeds the right- 
 eousness of the Scribes and Pharisees," we " cannot 
 enter into the Kingdom of Heaven," and to point 
 out as precisely as may be wherein the difference 
 should consist. Need I add, in conclusion, that by 
 taking this view of the subject we impart a new 
 value and a new significance to the example of our 
 Lord. Not content with giving the Christian char- 
 acter in description, in idea, he has given it in fact, 
 that " we all, with open face beholding as in a glass 
 the glory of the Lord," may be " changed into the 
 same image from glory to glory ; " till we all come, 
 in the only practicable unity of the faith and of 
 the knowledge of the Son of God, " unto a perfect 
 man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness 
 of Christ.'' 
 
GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 
 
 BRINGING INTO CAPTIVITY EVERT THOUGHT TO THE OBEDIENCE 
 
 OP CHRIST. — 2 Corinthians x. 5. 
 
 I SUPPOSE there are few prerogatives which men 
 would be less inclined to part with than the abso- 
 lute secrecy and independence of their thoughts. 
 The tyrant may fetter my limbs, and seal my lips ; 
 but there is one thing which he cannot do by the 
 utmost stretch of his power. He cannot hinder me 
 from thinking as I please ; neither can he know 
 what I think, unless I please to tell him. 
 
 But this very fact, as it shows that neither the 
 law nor public opinion can take cognizance of ou.r 
 thoughts, only makes it the more indispensable that 
 we should take the proper regulation and govern- 
 ment of them into our own hands. What others 
 cannot do for us, or even help us to do, each one 
 should feel the more bound to do for himself, — 
 taking care to keep himself inwardly as well as out- 
 wardly pure, " bringmg into captivity every thought 
 to the obedience of Christ." 
 
GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 183 
 
 Here, however, an objection is sometimes raised, 
 which, if allowed to stand, must make the inculca- 
 tion in the text of no effect. Our thoughts, it is 
 said, succeed each other according to fixed and un- 
 alterable laws, one thought bringing up another in 
 a constant train or current, over which the will has 
 no more power than over the current of blood in 
 our veins. 
 
 What there is of plausibility in this error arises, 
 as is usual in like cases, from a mixture of truth. 
 Unquestionably it is not for our will of itself, di- 
 rectly and immediately, to determine what we shall 
 think of at the moment ; neither can we, merely 
 by willing it, stop thinking altogether. Thus much 
 is true ; but it does not follow that we have no 
 control whatever over our trains of thought. All 
 those who concede anything to human freedom 
 must allow, that we are free to make any particu- 
 lar thought which comes up in one of these trains 
 an object of special attention. "We can arrest it 
 and hold it before the mind for this purpose ; 
 which will have the effect, not indeed to stop our 
 thinking, but to give a new direction to our thoughts. 
 Obviously, therefore, the turn wliich our thinking 
 takes depends, for the most part, on ourselves. 
 Suppose, for example, that I am thinking of a sin- 
 ful indulgence ; I am free to think of that side of 
 it which invites, or of that side of it which repels ; 
 
184 GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 
 
 I can think of it as an indulgence merely, or as a 
 sinful indulgence ; and the train of thought to which 
 the whole will give rise will vary accordingly. 
 When I say I can do either one or the other, as 
 I choose, it is no objection to reply that I cannot 
 do it without some reason or motive. Certainly 
 not. But the question is, whether, having a reason 
 or motive to give my thoughts a particular direc- 
 tion, that is to say, believing it to be expedient and 
 right, it is not within my power to do so. 
 
 There is also another way in which a man's will 
 exerts an indirect, but yet an important and de- 
 cisive, control over the tenor of his thoughts. As 
 has been said, we are competent at any moment 
 freely and deliberately to select out of a train of 
 thoughts that one to which we will attend. But 
 we will suppose this selection made, not freely and 
 deliberately, but spontaneously^ or from the impulse 
 of the moment, as is probably the fact in most cases ; 
 still what we do spontaneously, or from the impulse 
 of the moment, depends on the state of our minds, 
 and this again depends, for the most part, on what 
 we have chosen to make it, or allow it to become. 
 What we call acting impulsively or spontaneously 
 originates, in nine cases out of ten, not in our na- 
 ture properly so called, but in some habit which 
 has been superinduced ; — not in our nature as it 
 came from the hand of God, but as it has been 
 
GOVEKNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 185 
 
 developed and shaped by a long series of our own 
 voluntary acts. Hence it is, for the most part, that 
 different persons are affected so very differently by 
 the same objects, — what will suggest vicious and 
 impure thoughts to one having no such effect, per- 
 haps the opposite effect, on another. The same 
 book, for example, which will do incalculable in- 
 jury to a man of bad principles, or of no principle, 
 may be read with much less danger, perhaps with 
 perfect safety, by one whose innocence is guarded, 
 at every point, by discretion, a pure taste, and the 
 fear of God. 
 
 Say not, then, that it is of the nature of certain 
 objects to force on us bad thoughts. Say, rather, 
 that the thoughts which any object will suggest to us, 
 are those only which we, from the existing state of 
 our minds, are led to associate with it ; and that out 
 of these we can select which we will make the object 
 of special attention ; and further, even if, in making 
 this selection, we are more determined by habit than 
 deliberate choice, we should remember that this 
 hahit is our own work. Our abiding and predomi- 
 nant trains of thought depend, therefore, on some 
 act of the will, either present or past, or, at any rate, 
 on a series of voluntary acts which have resulted in 
 our existing habits or biases of character. 
 
 Accordingly it will not do to disown all responsibil- 
 ity respecting the government of our thoughts, on 
 
186 GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 
 
 the plea that they are not subject to our control. Let 
 our circumstances be what they may, if we take into 
 view our conduct from the beginning, it depends on 
 ourselves what shall be the general complexion and 
 tendency of our thoughts, almost as much as it does 
 what shall be the general complexion and tendency 
 of our words and actions. Who does not know that 
 a good man's upright purpose extends to his motives 
 and his dispositions ; that it penetrates and subdues 
 his inward as well as his outward life ? 
 
 Thus far, the aim of my reasoning has been to 
 prove that no object is likely to suggest bad thoughts, 
 except through the concurrence of a weakened or 
 depraved mind. 
 
 But, in a practical view of the subject, this is taking 
 higher grovmd than is necessary, or perhaps judicious. 
 Let us admit then, that, in the present condition of 
 humanity, there are some things so adapted of them- 
 selves to excite bad thoughts that they will have 
 this effect on the best minds. Still this does not 
 hinder us from being able to govern our thoughts, 
 for it by no means follows that we are obliged to 
 put ourselves in the way of such things. The gov- 
 ernment of our thoughts is as much in our own 
 hands as ever ; only it is on the condition that we 
 do not expose ourselves to those particular tempta- 
 tions. Take, for example, the influence of bad books. 
 A book may be so very bad, so thoroughly and in- 
 
GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 187 
 
 sidiously bad, that it cannot be read without unset- 
 tling or defiling, more or less, the best minds. But 
 the best minds are not obliged to read that book, or 
 to look into it, or to touch it ; nay, will not be dis- 
 posed to do so, for the very reason that they are 
 the best minds. And so of company, and conversa- 
 tion, and scenes. Undoubtedly there are situations 
 into which a good man may thrust himself, if he will, 
 where his tone of thinking is almost sure to be 
 lowered, and in the end utterly corrupted, whether 
 he will or no. In a certain companionship the bad 
 thoughts are forced upon him ; but the companion- 
 ship itself is not forced upon him ; so that he is 
 still free, even as regards his thovights. He is not 
 free to avoid the thoughts, if he does not avoid the 
 companionship, but he is free to avoid both. 
 
 Here, however, a distinction should be made be- 
 tween mere neighborhood, mere proximity, and real 
 companionship. Men are often constrained to live 
 together in the same vicinity, and it may be in the 
 same house, or the same room ; but companion- 
 ship implies something more. It implies confidence 
 and concert, a certain community of feeling, of tastes, 
 of pleasures ; and these cannot be forced. You know 
 how it is in schools and colleges, in a ship or in 
 camp : there all live together, and must live together, 
 but each selects for his companions whom he will ; 
 and if he chooses to select those whose intercourse 
 
188 GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 
 
 tends by necessity to corrupt and debase his mind, it 
 is his own fault ; he has incurred an evil which he 
 might have avoided if he would ; and therefore he 
 has nobody to blame but himself. 
 
 Let me add, that the control which every man 
 has, or might have, over his thoughts does not consist 
 in prevention alone. We will now suppose that ob- 
 jects suggesting bad thoughts suggest them alike 
 to all minds, and again, that we are necessarily ex- 
 posed to these objects ; in other words, we will sup- 
 pose, (though, as a general rule, nothing can be 
 further from the truth,) that bad thoughts force 
 their way into our minds unbidden, no power or 
 prudence on our part being able to keep them out ; 
 — still, even on this supposition, it must certainly 
 depend on ourselves what reception we give to the 
 intruders, and also how long we allow them to stay. 
 Bad single thoughts may flit, from time to time, 
 through the minds of good men ; but it is bad men 
 only who encourage, or even tolerate, their stay ; — 
 who welcome them ; who recall them ; who suffer 
 their imaginations to dwell upon them until the 
 moral taint they convey has had time to sink into 
 the very substance of the soul. I do not mean that 
 we can expel bad thoughts by no thoughts, leaving 
 our minds entirely empty. If we would expel bad 
 thoughts, it must be by the preference we give to 
 good thoughts, that is, by introducing good thoughts 
 
GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 189 
 
 into their place. However beset and haunted by 
 bad thoughts, if a man is sincere and in earnest in 
 his wish to rid himself of them, a single fervent 
 ejaculation, a single turning of his whole soul to 
 God, will be sufficient to rebuke or scare them away. 
 The old Catholic superstition, that to pronounce the 
 name of Jesus and make the sign of the cross would 
 put to flight evil spirits, was doubtless fostered by 
 the fact, if it did not grow out of it, that they were 
 found to put to flight evil suggestions, by diverting 
 our thoughts mto another channel, and lifting them 
 into a higher and holier region. 
 
 Away, then, with that subtile but most inconsistent 
 form of fatalism, which teaches that we can help our 
 actions, but not our thoughts. What is to choose but 
 to think ; and without freedom of choice what free- 
 dom of action could there be ? All freedom, there- 
 fore, begins and ends with freedom of thought. As 
 we have seen, it depends on ourselves, in no small 
 measure, whether our minds are in a state to be ac- 
 cessible to bad thoughts ; and again, it depends on 
 ourselves, for the most part, whether we are thrown 
 in the way of bad thoughts ; and finally, even when, 
 from any cause, bad thoughts find their way into the 
 mind, it depends on ourselves whether we allow them 
 to stay, or drive them out. Within certain Hmits, 
 therefore, and as far as morality goes, we have as real 
 a control over our thoughts as over our actions or 
 our limbs. 
 
190 GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 
 
 This being conceded, notliing remains but to con- 
 sider some of the reasons and motives which should 
 induce us to exert this power wisely and effectually, 
 " bringing into captivity every thought to the obe- 
 dience of Christ." 
 
 Consider, in the first place, how much the thoughts 
 have to do in forming and determining the whole 
 character. 
 
 " Thought," says an eloquent writer, " is the rud- 
 der of human action. As the thought is wise or fopl- 
 ish, good or bad, vicious or moral, the cause of action 
 is noxious or salutary. When, therefore, I am told it 
 is but a thought^ I am told that it is the most impor- 
 tant of all things." Tell me what are a man's 
 thoughts, and you do not tell me what he will actu- 
 ally do, but you tell me what he would like to do. 
 Tell me what are a man's thoughts, and you do not 
 tell me what he is in the judgment of the world, for 
 the world judges by the outward appearance, but you 
 tell me what he is in the judgment of God, who look- 
 eth on the heart. Thoughts have been called " the 
 seeds of conduct ; " but they are more than this. 
 They are seeds which have already begun to germi- 
 nate under ground ; they have begun to develop their 
 natural and essential properties, whether for good or 
 for evil, though they have not come as yet to the 
 light of day. In this way the whole character may 
 be covertly undermined ; the rot which began at the 
 
GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 191 
 
 core may thus spread through the whole substance 
 before it appears on the surface ; so that a man may 
 not begin to be suspected, nay, may hardly begin to 
 suspect himself, until he is well-nigh lost. Melan- 
 choly and startling instances of this description occur, 
 from time to time, in what is regarded as the sud- 
 den fall of men who have hitherto enjoyed the entire 
 confidence of the community. There is no such 
 thing as a sudden fall from virtue, — from a high and 
 strict virtue. These men have been falling for 
 years in the slow decay of all upright purpose and 
 thought. 
 
 It will help us to understand how this can be, and 
 at the same time strengthen our general conviction 
 as to the necessity of controlling our thoughts, if we 
 consider, in the second place, that every sin begins in 
 a sin of thought ; that is to say, in some vicious pur- 
 pose or intention, and often in meditating, over and 
 over again, what at length we are emboldened to do. 
 The last suggestion is one which I wish to impress 
 upon you. As a general rule, it is only after fre- 
 quently revolving crime in their minds that men find 
 the resolution, or rather the hardihood, to commit it. 
 When sinful thoughts are spoken of, I believe it is 
 common to suppose that a particular class of sins are 
 referred to, — those, I mean, which offend against 
 purity. But I make no such limitation here. I be- 
 lieve it to be true, in general, of all crimes, that they 
 
192 GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 
 
 are rehearsed^ so to express it, again and again, in 
 thought, before they are brought out into act. Take, 
 for example, the crimes of envy, jealousy, and malice ; 
 who does not know how often a man will wish evil 
 to another, and imagine ways in which he would lilie 
 to do him evil, before he arrives at the point of 
 putting any one of his fancied schemes in practice ? 
 The same is also true of acts of fraud and dishonesty. 
 A man does not belie at once, or in a single day, a 
 whole life of just and honorable dealing, but the 
 process of liis demoralization, in most cases at least, is 
 something like this. In his haste to be rich, or more 
 likely still in this perplexity, if his circumstances be- 
 come embarrassed, a questionable expedient occurs to 
 his mind, — if he could only bring himself to feel that 
 it would be right, or even allowable or safe. At first 
 he cannot, and the thought is dismissed. But that 
 thought returns again and again, under the same or a 
 like form, and every time it returns a growing famili- 
 arity makes it seem less strange and less repugnant, 
 until he is not only ready for that step, but for worse 
 things. 
 
 The history of sin in such an individual, while 
 it affords ample and melancholy evidence of human 
 frailty, is one of the best vindications of human na- 
 ture itself against the charge of a native and intrinsic 
 bias to evil. It shows that actual transgression, when 
 first proposed^ is never in itself agreeable to our 
 
GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 193 
 
 nature, but always more or less offensive and revolt- 
 ing. A strong instinctive aversion must be overcome 
 before we can go on ; and this is commonly done, not 
 by reconciling us to the crime, as such, but by caus- 
 ing our repugnance to it to be less felt through the 
 effect of familiarity. After all, when the crime is 
 committed, it is not for the sake of the crime, but for 
 the sake of what we gain by the crime acting on us as 
 a bribe ; the bribe, however, does not prevail until our 
 sense of repugnance to the crime has been blunted 
 by familiarity. And here it is that the demoralizing 
 influence of ill-regulated thought appears ; for to ac- 
 quire this familiarity it is not necessary that we 
 should do anything, it is not necessary that we should 
 stir a finger ; it is only necessary that we should go 
 over the mischief we are meditating in thought 
 (which we are foolish enough to suppose can hurt 
 nobody), and thus to rehearse, as I have said, again 
 and again, in imagination the part we are about to 
 play in real life. Sometimes the novice in crime 
 thinks himself ready to act when he is not ; as ap- 
 pears from his hesitancy and reluctance when the 
 moment for action arrives. If, however, this unex- 
 pected recoil of his nature does not induce him to 
 change his purpose altogether, he knows but too well 
 how to supply the defect in his training for sin. If 
 we could look into his heart, we should find him at 
 his accursed rehearsals again. A few more lessons, 
 
 9 M 
 
194 GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 
 
 and the blush and the shudder will pass away, never 
 to return. 
 
 Hence a third consideration which should impress 
 us with the necessity of governing our thoughts is, 
 that unless the restraint is laid there it is not likely to 
 be effectual. 
 
 Because we maintain the sinfulness of bad thoughts, 
 it does not follow that we must push this doctrine to 
 the extent of asserting that the thought of sin is as 
 bad as the deed. Unquestionably it is not. The 
 actual perpetrator of a crime is guilty of a double 
 offence, that of desiring to do it, and that of not re- 
 straining the desire. Nay, more ; if the evil thought 
 is suggested fro7n ivithout, and immediately disowned 
 and rejected /rom within, it will depart and leave no 
 stain. Accordingly there is no occasion for the mor- 
 bid conscientiousness of those overscrupulous persons 
 who live in constant terror of falling into mortal sin 
 from the mere passage of evil thoughts through their 
 minds against their will. The guilt of evil thoughts 
 does not consist in our having them, but in our in- 
 dulging- them, accepting them as our own, making 
 them our own, and allowing them to remain, or to 
 return. If, therefore, instead of doing this, we re- 
 press the thought as soon as its true character^ is 
 known, we not only do not fall from our innocence, 
 but we stand higher, or at least more firmly, than we 
 did before, because we have been tried, and stood the 
 
GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 195 
 
 trial. Let the check be put upon the thought, and 
 we not only prevent the sin from coming to maturity, 
 but we take the character of sin from its first begin- 
 nings ; that is to say, we turn what would otherwise 
 have been a temptation yielded to, which is sin, into 
 a temptation overcome, which is virtue. 
 
 Those, on the contrary, who indulge the thought, 
 and yet rely on their power and resolution to prevent 
 it from ever passing into act, do miserably miscalcu- 
 late their strength. As has been said, " There can 
 be no doubt with any reflecting mind but that the 
 propensities of our nature must be subject to regula- 
 tion ; but the question is, where the check ought to be 
 placed, — upon the thought, or only upon the action?" 
 Paley finds an argument for the truth of Christianity in 
 the decisive judgment which our Saviour pronounces 
 in favor of the former course, indicating thereby his 
 superior wisdom.* In proof of this point he adduces 
 the testimony, not of theorists, nor even of moral- 
 ists or theologians, but of practical men and men of 
 the world, as being well qualified by their experience 
 and observation to form a true opinion on the sub- 
 ject. They all concur in the view here given, being 
 wont to say, that, in this respect at least, if in no 
 other, " our Saviour knew mankind better than Soc- 
 rates." It is commonly objected to evil thoughts, 
 
 * Evidences of Christianity, Part II. Chap. II. 
 
196 GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 
 
 that tliey inflame our desires and passions, and so 
 make them more and more difficult of control : and 
 this is true ; but I find a still more serious objec- 
 tion in their influence on the principle of virtue itself. 
 They corrupt, weaken, and destroy all power, all dis- 
 position, to control the conduct on moral grounds, the 
 only restraint left being a regard for appearances, or 
 mere worldly interest. Need I say, he who puts his 
 virtues under the keeping of this principle makes a 
 shepherd of the wolf, who may indeed be vigilant 
 and active to keep off other depredators from the 
 flock, but only to devour them all himself. 
 
 After all, the weightiest consideration which should 
 lead us to govern our thoughts is that which religion 
 suggests ; they are known unto God, who will call 
 them into judgment at the last day. 
 
 Something, doubtless, would be gained, as regards 
 the duty in question, if we would merely give heed 
 to that apothegm of Pagan wisdom, '' Reverence 
 thyself,'''' For he who knowingly tolerates in himself 
 what he would be ashamed to have others know, 
 shows that he has less respect for his own good opin- 
 ion than for that of the world. But this is a small 
 matter compared with indifference or disregard for 
 the good opinion of our Maker and Eternal Judge. 
 We believe that he is everywhere present, that his 
 eye penetrates the darkest chambers of the soul, yet 
 still indulge in thoughts and imaginations which we 
 
GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 197 
 
 are careful to hide from our fellow-men, from dread 
 of their rebuke or scorn. Is man more than God ? 
 Is it in mockery that we come before him and say, 
 " Search me, God, and know my heart ; try me, 
 and know my thoughts, and see if there be any evil 
 way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." 
 Consider, too, that all the consequences of evil 
 thoughts are not revealed in the present life. We 
 have reason to hope that some of our guilty actions^ 
 and some of the temptations to our guilty actions, 
 will cease with the body which is their necessary 
 occasion and instrument ; but the body is not neces- 
 sary to our evil thoughts. The mind, the soul, will 
 go on thinking still, even in its disembodied state, 
 and thinking as it did here, and take its place accord- 
 ing to the spirit and tendency of its thoughts. Is 
 not this what the Scriptures mean when they say, 
 " Therefore, judge nothing before the time, until 
 the Lord come, who both will bring to light the hid- 
 den things of darkness, and will make manifest the 
 counsels of the hearts: and then shall every man 
 have praise of God." 
 
 Shall I be told that throughout this discourse I 
 have been insisting on a strictness and purity of 
 conduct which is beyond the reach of mortals ? Per- 
 fection here, as elsewhere, is so, I suppose ; but this 
 does not absolve us from the duty of making perfec- 
 tion itself an object of our aspirations, and of earnest 
 
198 GOVERNMENT OF THE THOUGHTS. 
 
 and unremitting pursuit. And, besides, I am not 
 speaking of what man can do by his unassisted 
 strength ; I suppose him to be sustained by faith in 
 Christ, and the aids of the Holy Spirit. I suppose all 
 heaven to be on his side. Because we find ourselves 
 unequal to a duty, not being Christians, it does not 
 follow that we should still be unequal to it if we 
 were to become Christians, or better Christians. At 
 any rate, we have no right to fall back on the plea 
 of our weakness and insufficiency, until we have done 
 what we can^ — the condition not only of God's jus- 
 tice, but also of his mercy. And who can say that he 
 has done all that he can ? If, then, we wish to pre- 
 serve peace of mind, if we wish to keep the sanctuary 
 of the soul unprofaned, if we wish to prevent our 
 virtues from, being contaminated in their very source 
 and to their very core, if we wish to plant a double 
 guard round the heart, out of which are the issues 
 of life, — let us maintain inviolate the purity of our 
 thoughts, without which there can be no inno- 
 cence, no security, no entrance into heaven, and 
 no heaven to enter. " Seek ye the Lord while he 
 may be found ; call ye upon him while he is near. 
 Let the wicked forsake his way and the unrighteous 
 man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, 
 and he will liave mercy upon him, and to our God, 
 for he will abundantly pardon." 
 
DIFFICULTY, STRUGGLE, PROGRESS. 
 
 THOU, THEREFORE, ENDURE HARDNESS, AS A GOOD SOLDIER OF 
 
 JESUS CHRIST. — 2 Timothy ii. 3. 
 
 Men would be less likely to complain of life as 
 it is, if they knew, or would consider, what are its 
 great objects. " Nothing," they say, " which is worth 
 having can be obtained without difficulty and effort. 
 We must labor for it, we must struggle for it, or 
 else not have it." And this is true ; and what is 
 more, it was meant to be so. It is not an over- 
 sight or an accident : God never meant that things 
 should come easily ; he always meant that they 
 should come hard ; and they do not come any 
 harder, in point of fact, than he meant they should. 
 Difficulties, struggles, and hardships, toilings, striv- 
 ings, and buffetings, — these are not strewed through 
 human life any more thickly than God intended 
 they should be. And yet, I repeat it, in view of 
 all this, men would be much less apt, than they 
 now are, to complain of life, if they understood, 
 or would consider, the great ends for which life is 
 
200 DIFFICULTY, STRUGGLE, PEOGEESS. 
 
 given. The multitude, practically at least, mistake 
 the means for the end, and then wonder that the 
 end should be what it is ; and hence no small 
 portion of the uneasiness and discontent to be met 
 with everywhere in the world, and the consequent 
 decay of faith and zeal. 
 
 To guard against this error, we must consider well 
 two important distinctions, which, in the eagerness 
 and distractions of human pursuits, are very apt to 
 be overlooked or neglected. In the first place, 
 though we very properly labor and strive for this 
 object and that, the great end of life does not con- 
 sist in our obtaining these particular objects, but in 
 the self-improvement realized in the process of ob- 
 taining them, or of making the attempt. And, 
 secondly, while happiness is one legitimate object 
 of our existence, progress is another : so that the 
 great end of our being is not answered in our be- 
 coming happy as we are; our very capacities of 
 happiness must be enlarged and elevated ; and in 
 this way we are to be fitted for a higher life. 
 
 These are unalterable conditions of the accom- 
 plishment of the soul's destiny. We may shut our 
 eyes upon them, if we see fit, but they will not on 
 that account cease to be unalterable conditions of 
 the accomplishment of the soul's destiny. On the 
 other hand, if we take care to study them out, and 
 reflect on them, often and seriously, it can hardly 
 
DIFFICULTY, STEUGGLE, PROGRESS. 201 
 
 fail to do something to reconcile us to the world as 
 it is, to the unavoidable difficulties with which we 
 have to contend, and dispose us to " endure " the 
 " hardness " thus incurred in a better and more 
 resolved spirit, or, in the words of the text, " as a 
 good soldier of Jesus Christ." 
 
 Let us consider, in the first place, that, though 
 we very properly labor and strive for this object 
 and that, the great end of life does not consist in 
 our obtaining these particular objects, but in the 
 self-improvement realized in the process of obtain- 
 ing them, or in making the attempt. 
 
 If we exert our faculties for the accomplishment 
 of a particular object, and succeed, we do not ac- 
 complish one object only, we accomplish two ob- 
 jects, a particular object and a general object, — 
 the particular object at which we aim, and the gen- 
 eral object of improving ourselves. This is true 
 whatever the particular object may be, provided 
 only that it is a legitimate object. It may be the 
 simplest mechanical process, still if we go through 
 it successfully, we not only go through the process 
 in that particular instance, but we improve our- 
 selves^ inasmuch as we acquire a greater facility 
 in going through the same or a similar process on 
 any future occasion. And this secondary advantage 
 is still more apparent when the exertion called for 
 is of a nature to put in requisition the higher 
 
 9* 
 
202 DIFFICULTY, STRUGGLE, PROGRESS. 
 
 endowments of judgment and intellect. If an arclii- 
 tect builds a house or a ship, he not only builds 
 that particular house or ship, but he improves him- 
 self generally as an architect ; that is, he is better 
 able afterwards to build other houses or other ships. 
 So likewise if a scholar acquires a language, or 
 masters a science, he not only acquires that par- 
 ticular language, or masters that particular science, 
 but improves his own mind generally, that is, in- 
 creases his ability to acquire other languages, or to 
 master other sciences. 
 
 So far all is plain. But these premises being 
 conceded, it follows necessarily that it is not to the 
 ease, but to the difficulty^ with which particular ob- 
 jects are effected, that we must look for the further- 
 ance of the general object of self-improvement. If a 
 merchant could gain a fortune by asking for it, or 
 by writing half a dozen letters or bills of credit, he 
 might gain a fortune, but that would be all. He 
 would not improve his knowledge or capacity for 
 business ; he would not be a better merchant than 
 he was before. And this is the reason why inherited 
 property and money got by gambling, lotteries, or 
 speculation proves a curse as often as a blessing. 
 It is because men come by it so easily. If they came 
 by it with difficulty, if they were obliged to put all 
 their faculties to the task in order to obtain it, their 
 faculties themselves would be sharpened and in vigor- 
 
DIFFICULTY, STRUGGLE, PROGHESS. 203 
 
 ated, their minds generally would be strengthened 
 and enlarged, and their heads, of course, would be 
 less likely to be turned by success. 
 
 Or take another example. Suppose a mathema- 
 tician to be able to solve the hardest problems at a 
 glance, and without any labor or application of mind. 
 This, I allow, would make it possible for him to solve 
 a greater number of problems in a given time ; but 
 let him solve ever so many, it would not help him to 
 acquire what is infinitely more valuable, the power 
 and the habit of close and intense thought. It would 
 help him to fill his mind, but it would not help him 
 to improve or strengthen his mind. On the contrary, 
 he would be in a fair way of becoming what is called 
 " a learned fool " ; that is, one who has the informa- 
 tion of a man, but the faculties of a child, or one who 
 has a great deal of knowledge without the capacity to 
 apply it to any useful purpose. 
 
 Hence the radical objection to those modern de- 
 vices in education, the ostensible object of which is 
 to make education easy. Happily they never do 
 what they promise ; but suppose them to do it, sup- 
 pose them to turn study into a pastime, it would only 
 be so much the worse. The essential good of study 
 consists in its being hard work ; for it is on that con- 
 dition only that it will put the faculties to the stretch, 
 and so bring them out more fully. Who has yet 
 to learn that education, properly so called, does not 
 
20-1 DIFFICULTY, STEUGGLE, PROGEESS. 
 
 consist in putting things into the mind, but, as the 
 name implies, in bringing things out, — in the de- 
 velopment of the power and habit of self-activity, 
 self-reliance, and self-government ; and to effect this 
 object, the faculties on which these traits of character 
 depend must be stimulated, exercised, and put to the 
 stretch. In this case, though all the information 
 should be lost, the discipline will remain. 
 
 Thus it appears that the very difficulties of life, 
 of which we are so apt to complain, are converted 
 into the means of that discipline, that self-culture 
 and self-improvement, which is the great end of life. 
 The particular and immediate objects of our pursuit, 
 which are so apt to engross our attention, such as 
 knowledge and wealth, pleasure and fame, are not 
 ends, but means, — means to the attainment of the 
 one great end of our being, the development of the 
 latent energies of the soul ; and this end they are 
 adapted to promote just in proportion to the difficulty 
 of compassing them ; that is to say, just in proportion 
 to the mental activity they call forth. 
 
 One word now on the second proposition before 
 stated. While happiness is one legitimate object of 
 our existence, progress is another : so that the great 
 end of our being is not answered in our becoming 
 happy as we are ; our very capacities of happiness 
 must be enlarged and elevated. 
 
 To illustrate what I mean, take the case of a child 
 
DIFFICULTY, STRUGGLE, PROGRESS. 205 
 
 whose capacities of happiness, as at present developed, 
 are exceedingly few and narrow. You would not be 
 content with a constitution of things looking no fur- 
 ther than to a gratification of the desires that child 
 has already begun to feel. With reason you expect 
 that other and higher desires will be awakened in him 
 as his nature is more and more unfolded, and you 
 count on the hard discipline of life as being likely to 
 bring about this result. Could he gratify his first 
 and lowest desires without pain, effort, or delay, 
 there would be danger of his becoming satisfied with 
 himself as he is. But let these be thwarted in many 
 respects, or embarrassed with difficulty and opposition, 
 and he is compelled, as it were, to fall back on other 
 resources, which reveal to him, for the first time, the 
 deeper and more essential wants of the soul. Thus 
 are his very capacities of happiness enlarged and 
 elevated. 
 
 And what is true of childhood in respect to maturer 
 years is true also of every period of man's progress 
 in respect to the further progress of which he is ca- 
 pable. Let all his present desires be met and satisfied 
 without any exertion on his part, let all his present 
 capacities of happiness be filled to overflowing with- 
 out any mixture of bitterness or mortification, and 
 he would be content to remain as he is ; he would 
 be content to stand still. Progress is the child of 
 struggle, and struggle is the child of difficulty. 
 
206 DIFFICULTY, STRUGGLE, PROGRESS. 
 
 Hence in those countries where the soil and climate 
 are so propitious as to leave hardly anything to be 
 done by human endeavor, society is found to advance 
 to a certain point, and there stop. Everything stag- 
 nates, merely because man, under such circumstan- 
 ces, is not compelled to labor by the hard necessities 
 of his condition, by what we still persist in calling 
 his hard lot. On the contrary, in those countries 
 where the difficulties of life are the greatest, suppos- 
 ing them not to be of a nature to overwhelm and 
 crush the very thought of success, we find that our 
 nature is invariably developed to the best advantage, 
 and becomes capable of the highest degrees not only 
 of virtue, but of happiness. 
 
 Whence, then, this disposition to repine at a consti- 
 tution of things which demands strenuous effort ; 
 which makes it necessary for us to put forth our 
 utmost strength. For what else were we created ? 
 It is not, as I have said, an oversight or an accident 
 that we are encompassed with difficulty, that obstacles 
 meet us in every path, that we are constrained to 
 " endure hardness." God meant it should be so ; 
 and he meant it not in anger, but in mercy. Dif- 
 ficulty, struggle, progress, — such is the law. In the 
 operation of it many particular gratifications may be 
 intercepted, but our happiness, on the whole, will be 
 infinitely enhanced ; many of our particular pur- 
 poses wiU be frustrated, but the great end of our 
 
DIFFICULTY, STRUGGLE, PROGRESS. 207 
 
 being will be secured ; our circumstances may not be 
 so well, but we ourselves shall be better. 
 
 "Thou, therefore, endure hardness, as a good 
 soldier of Jesus Christ." If I have succeeded in 
 making myself understood, there is good reason for 
 obeying this injunction independently of the divine 
 command. " In the sweat of thy face thou shalt 
 eat bread " was the primal curse under which man 
 fell by his disobedience ; and we are still born under 
 the same necessity. But the paternal care and love 
 of God are evinced more, perhaps, in the nature of 
 his curses, as they are called, than in anything else : 
 when met, on our part, in a spirit at once just, re- 
 solved, and resigned, these curses are converted into 
 blessings. We owe everything that is good and 
 great and joyous in our destiny to the difficulties 
 which have evoked the qualities on which. all pro- 
 gress depends, and all self-reliance, and all self- 
 activity. 
 
 You remember that one of the richest mines of 
 the world was accidently discovered by a peasant, as 
 he was climbing slowly up a difficult steep. He 
 caught at a bush to save himself, and steady his 
 steps ; the bush gave way, but disclosed at the same 
 time the exhaustless treasure which lay concealed 
 underneath. And so it is in toiling up the difficult 
 steeps of human life : we shall probably catch at 
 many things for support or security which the slightest 
 
208 DIFFICULTY, STRUGGLE, PROGRESS. 
 
 straining will uproot. As they give way, however, 
 they constrain us to fall back on other resources, 
 lay bare the unfailing energies of the inner man, and 
 make the soul conscious of itself. 
 
 Difficulty, struggle, progress, — this, I repeat it, 
 is the law. By this we conquer; by this it is that 
 the spirit gradually obtains ascendency over the flesh ; 
 by this it is that the creatures of earth and dust 
 gradually begin a heaven for themselves here ; by 
 this it is that the slaves of ignorance and fear and 
 sin throw off the spirit of bondage, and aspire to be 
 children of God ; " and if children, then heirs, 
 heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ ; if so be 
 that we suffer with him that we may be glorified 
 together." 
 
SINS OF OMISSION. 
 
 FOB THE GOOD THAT I WOULD, I DO NOT. — RomanS vii. 19. 
 
 I DO not believe that mankind, as a general rule, 
 think so well of themselves as is commonly sup- 
 posed. They often put on the appearance of think- 
 ing well of themselves, presuming that it is only on 
 this condition they can expect to be thought well 
 of by others ; and ah. wish to be thought well of 
 by others. But, after all, I do not think it would 
 be easy to find a man, unless of the lightest and 
 most frivolous character, who is not humbled and 
 oppressed at times by a sense of his unworthiness, 
 by a sense of his ill-desert before conscience and 
 before God. 
 
 Still, in estimating this unworthiness, this ill-desert, 
 there is one class of sins, of which few, if any, make 
 sufficient account. I mean, sins of omission. I do 
 not mean that men in general are disposed to deny 
 they are guilty of such sins. Almost every one, 
 the best men among us, are willing to confess, with 
 the Apostle, that, oftentimes, the good which they 
 
210 SINS OF OMISSION. 
 
 would, they do not ; that they have left undone 
 many things which they ought to have done. But 
 they do not feel that mere omissions of duty are 
 to be put on the same footing with transgressions 
 of duty. They are willing to confess these omis- 
 sions, nay, perhaps tliey sincerely regret them ; but 
 it is with but little of the compunction or concern 
 with which they would regret a positive crime. They 
 probably know and feel that they have lost more or 
 less by such neglects ; but they are slow to believe 
 that they have also incurred thereby a heavy amount 
 of guilt, and, it may be, a terrible retribution. 
 
 For this reason, I wish to speak at some length 
 of sins of omission ; first, of their nature as sins, 
 and then of their punishment. 
 
 And first, of their nature as sins. Sin is often 
 defined as consisting in a known opposition to the 
 will of God ; but if so, it follows of course that the 
 sin is the same, whether it consists in doing what 
 we know is forbidden, or in not doing what we 
 know is required, for in either case we knowingly 
 oppose God's will. Hence, also, there is an incon- 
 sistency in saying that sins of omission are either 
 more or less sinful than positive transgressions ; 
 strictly speaking, they are positive transgressions. 
 The form of the sin is negative, that is, it consists 
 in not doing ; but the transgression is positive and 
 open ; the law is actually and knowingly and posi- 
 
SmS OF OMISSION. 211 
 
 lively broken. If I violate the commandment, 
 " Honor thy father and thy mother," I am guilty 
 of what is called a sin of omission ; but it is just 
 as much an open and positive transgression of the 
 law, as if I should violate the commandment, " Thou 
 shalt not steal," or "Thou shalt not kill." 
 
 It is true, and this perhaps has given some 
 countenance to the alleged distinction, almost the 
 only sins pimished as crimes by human laws are 
 sins of commission ; but the reason of this is two- 
 fold. In the first place, the paramount object of 
 human laws is, not to enforce morality, as such, but 
 to secure social order ; which is done, for the most 
 part, merely by prohibiting such actions as subvert 
 or disturb social order. And, in the second place, 
 the virtues required of us are seldom capable of 
 being so defined that they can be made to take 
 the form of positive law. Thus the virtue of benev- 
 olence makes it to be the duty of every one to re- 
 lieve the distressed according to his ability ; but what 
 human law can prescribe beforehand to whom, and 
 precisely how much, you or I must give in order to 
 fulfil this duty. Besides, our virtues depend, in no 
 small measure, on the inward part of the action, 
 — on the motive or intention; and motives and in- 
 tentions are, for the most part, beyond the reach of 
 human jurisdiction. They must be left to be re- 
 warded or punished by conscience, and by Him who 
 looketh on the heart. 
 
212 SINS OF OMISSION. 
 
 For these reasons, human laws are content, for 
 the most part, if they can only restrain men from 
 the commission of crime : but not so, morality ; 
 above all, not so. Christian morality. In the Parable 
 of the Talents it was no excuse in the case of " the 
 unprofitable servant," that he had not wasted or 
 misused his talent ; he was " cast into outer dark- 
 ness" because he had not added to his talent, be- 
 cause he had not used it aright, because he had 
 buried it in the earth. A Christian is not made 
 up of negative qualities ; it is not enough that he 
 abstains from evil, he must do good : " Therefore, 
 to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, 
 to him it is sin." Even if a man were to keep the 
 Ten Commandments ever so strictly, it would not 
 make him a good Christian ; at best, it would only 
 make him a good Jew. The reason is that that an- 
 cient summary of the moral law relates, for the most 
 part, to what is forbidden. A man may keep all 
 the Commandments, yet not fulfil one of the Beati- 
 tudes ; and in this case, without undertaking to say 
 what he would be, it is certain what he would not 
 be : he would not be a Christian. A man is not 
 a good man, merely because he is not a bad man ; 
 at any rate, he is not a Christian. A Christian, I 
 cannot repeat it too often, is not made up of nega- 
 tive qualities ; he is not a Christian by virtue of 
 what he has not done, but by virtue of what he 
 
SINS OF OMISSION. 213 
 
 has done, not by virtue of what he is not., but by 
 virtue of what he is. The whole drift of the Sermon 
 on the Mount is, to show that the external and 
 negative morality which satisfied " them of old time " 
 would no longer satisfy. Under the Gospel, it is 
 not enough that we do not hate our enemy, which 
 is negative morality : we must love him ; it is not 
 enough that we do not return evil for evil, which, 
 again, is negative morality : we must " overcome 
 evil with good." The Christian must aiyn " to ful- 
 fil all righteousness." I do not mean that he is 
 likely to succeed in this ; human infirmity makes 
 it certain he will not : still his hope that his 
 frequent failures will be forgiven is founded on the 
 honesty and thoroughness of his purpose to leave 
 nothing unattempted that may help to make him 
 as perfect as possible in the sight of God. 
 
 Looking, therefore, at the essential morality of 
 men's conduct, it is not for any one, certainly it is 
 not for Christians, to make a distinction in favor 
 of sins of omission, as if they were venial offences, 
 as if they merely lessened a man's title to reward, 
 without exposing him to blame or punishment. 
 Whoever starts in life with the notion that nothing 
 is absolutely required of him but to abstain from 
 wrong-doing, forgets that he has to answer for life 
 itself, which was not given to be filled up with 
 wicked, or even with indifferent or unprofitable, 
 but with worthy deeds. 
 
214 SINS OF OMISSION. 
 
 Thus much of the sins of omission, considered as 
 sins. I am next to speak of the punishment incurred 
 thereby ; that is to say, of the evils they bring on 
 ourselves and on others. 
 
 And first, on ourselves. If we compare sins of 
 omission with sins of commission, I do not deny that 
 the latter inflict the most direct and the most palpable 
 harm. A single sin of commission, a single crime 
 of passion, will sometimes blast, in an hour, the pros- 
 pects of a whole life. The same is also true of the 
 crimes of intemperance, of inordinate ambition, of 
 dishonesty ; — their victims are everywhere ; so much 
 so, that when we hear of a man's having ruined him- 
 self, we always presume that it has been by something 
 which he has done^ and not by something which he 
 has left undone. 
 
 But, after all, I suspect there is generally more 
 or less of fallacy or illusion in such judgments. It 
 may be true, as just intimated, that the self-injury 
 caused by overt crime is more immediate and more 
 conspicuous than that caused by culpable neglect ; 
 but it does not follow that it is greater or more cer- 
 tain in the long run. Who will say that the aggregate 
 of loss, failure, and suffering occasioned by anger or 
 revenge is greater than that occasioned by indolence ; 
 yet indolence is a vice which consists in not doing : it 
 is a sin of omission. A French writer of great 
 note has observed : " It is a mistake to believe that 
 
SINS OF OMISSION. 215 
 
 none but the violent passions, such as ambition and 
 love, are able to triumph over the other active prin- 
 ciples. Laziness, as languid as it is, often gets the 
 mastery of them all ; overrules all the designs and 
 actions of life, and insensibly consumes and destroys 
 both passions and virtues." * Besides, why is it that 
 men are so apt to fall into sins of commission ? Is it 
 not mainly owing to neglect on their part to fortify 
 themselves beforehand against temptation, as they 
 might have done, and ought to have done ? Take, 
 for example, the sins of anger and self-indulgence, 
 which do so much to swell the catalogue of human 
 crimes ; who does not know that they happen, in most 
 cases, from neglect to cultivate habits of self-control ? 
 But all such neglects are sins of omission. Hence to 
 this class of sins are to be referred not merely the 
 loss and suffering which they directly produce, but 
 also a large proportion of our other sins, together 
 with the evils which follow in their train, including 
 often ignominy and death. The last man that was 
 hung for murder, became a murderer, probably, be- 
 cause he had neglected to cultivate habits of self-con- 
 trol and a proper horror for the shedding of blood; 
 so that the radical wrong, even in his case, was a 
 sin of omission. 
 
 There is also another general view to be taken 
 of sins of omission, which will lead us — at least it 
 
 * One of La Rochefoucauld's Maxims. 
 
216 SINS OF OMISSION. 
 
 ought to lead us — to attach more importance than we 
 commonly do to the evils they bring on ourselves. 
 The highest duty of man, and that which underlies all 
 his other duties, is the duty of self-improvement, or 
 moral progress. We are born neither virtuous nor 
 vicious, neither righteous nor wicked, but with ca- 
 pacities to become either one or the other to an un- 
 limited degree, according as we use or abuse, culti- 
 vate or neglect, the powers and opportunities put into 
 our hands. K^ persons^ and not things^ we are to be 
 what we become in consequence of what we chose 
 to do or to leave undone. What we were originally 
 made by the Creator, and what is done for us, day 
 by day, under the forms of human or Divine assist- 
 ance, are all necessary ; nevertheless they result in 
 no good to us personally, except in so far as they 
 result in our actually making intellectual and moral 
 progress. Moreover, in the existing constitution of 
 things, the symbol of this progress is not that of a 
 man floating passively on the stream, but of one 
 struggling against it, and struggling for his life. 
 Let him give over struggling, and he will infallibly 
 be carried down ; nay, let him intermit struggling 
 for any considerable time, and his progress will be 
 not only arrested, but reversed. 
 
 This being the law of man's moral life, it follows, as 
 some of the best ethical writers have said, that the 
 surest gauge of the gravity of a transgression is found 
 
SINS OF OMISSION. 217 
 
 in the influence it has on our moral progress. And 
 here, again, I do not mean to deny that the effect 
 of sins of commission, under this point of view, is 
 always disastrous, and sometimes fatal. The crimes 
 of injustice, of sensuality, of revenge, especially if 
 deliberate and habitual, are sure to weaken, if they 
 do not destroy, our faith and our moral and religious 
 sensibility ; and so are utterly subversive of *' growth 
 in grace." Still it may well be doubted whether 
 these crimes, in their worst forms, are more likely to 
 hinder or obstruct moral progress, than a neglect to 
 cultivate those principles and dispositions, on which 
 all progress depends. 
 
 It is a great mistake to suppose that character is 
 spontaneous. I do not mean to call in question the 
 existence of what are sometimes termed moral and 
 religious instincts, as being natural to all men ; but 
 these instmcts do not become character until moulded 
 into habits. A man may have good or bad impulses ; 
 but it does not follow that he has a good or bad char- 
 acter, or any character, except perhaps that of fickle- 
 ness and instability, which properly means want of 
 character. There is doubtless a sense in which it is 
 spontaneous and natural for men to tell the truth ; 
 nevertheless we do not call a man " a man of truth," 
 until, by self-discipline, he has acquired so confirmed 
 a habit of strict adherence to the truth, that his word 
 can be relied on in all cases. For the same reason, 
 
 10 
 
218 SINS OF OMISSION. 
 
 though there is doubtless a sense m which it is spon- 
 taneous and natural for men to pray, we do not call 
 a man " a man of prayer," until by constant practice 
 prayer has become a habit with him ; until he is not 
 only surprised into it on extraordinary emergencies, 
 but makes it a part of the daily food of his soul. 
 Indeed, all the higher developments of character — 
 integrity, piety, self-devotion — are so far from being 
 spontaneous, that they can only be expected as the 
 fruit of earnest discipline, of assiduous and long-con- 
 tinued self-culture. Accordingly, if this discipline, 
 this self-culture, is neglected (which, however, is but 
 a sin of omission), these virtues become impossible. 
 Sins of commission interrupt us, and throw us back, 
 in our progress ; but sins of omission make it impos- 
 sible that the progress should be carried on, or even 
 so much as begun. 
 
 Again, in order to estimate aright the self-injury 
 which sins of omission inflict, it is also necessary to 
 take into account the bearing of these sins on our 
 moral ability, and on our moral pleasures and satis- 
 factions. 
 
 It is common to say, that every one can do what 
 is right if he will ; so that his failures are to be 
 ascribed, in every particular instance, not to want of 
 power, but to want of intention or purpose ; any 
 other doctrine, as many think, would make God an 
 unrighteous Governor and Judge. And this is true, 
 
SINS OF OMISSION. 219 
 
 if nothing more is meant than merely to affirm, that 
 all men are originally endowed with faculties equal to 
 their work, provided only that these faculties are 
 unfolded, trained, and applied as they might be, and 
 ought to be, from the beginning. If, however, these 
 faculties have been perverted, stifled, dwarfed, by any 
 cause, — no matter whether by neglect or abuse, no 
 matter whether by sins of omission or sins of com- 
 mission, — it is plain that in every such instance the 
 individual must lack the power ^ even if he should 
 have the will, to enter at once on the highest acts or 
 the highest enjoyments of the Christian life. Why 
 shut our eyes on the fact, that the world is filled with 
 the morally infirm and impotent of this description ? 
 At the same time, such infirmity or impotence is not 
 of the nature of an excuse, because those who suffer 
 from it have brought it on themselves, either by what 
 they have done, or by what they have left undone. 
 When it is said, that no one should be blamed for 
 not doing what is beyond his strength, we are to 
 understand by his strength, in this connection, not 
 something which he possesses, whether he will or no, 
 nor yet something which is given to him to be ac- 
 cepted passively, but something which is given to him 
 to he acquired. Accordingly, every man's duty is to 
 be measured, not by what he has actually made him- 
 self capable of doing, for he may have abused or 
 neglected his powers, but by what he might have 
 made himself capable of doing. 
 
220 SINS OF OMISSION. 
 
 Thus we see, under another aspect, the wrong 
 ■which a man does to his own soul by merely neglect- 
 ing his duty ; that is, by what are called " sins of 
 omission." Sins of omission, as was said before, ac- 
 count for our falling so frequently into sins of commis- 
 sion ; but this is not all ; they absolutely incapacitate 
 us, at least for the time, for many, and especially for 
 the higher virtues. Take, for example, a merely un- 
 spiritual man, meaning thereby one who has merely 
 neglected to excite and develop his spiritual capaci- 
 ties and aspirations, who has merely failed, from any 
 cause, to cultivate the habit of faith and of prayer. 
 Now we say of such a person that he is not only guilty 
 of a sin, and that he has failed to surround himself 
 with the sacred guards of religion as a defence against 
 other sins, but also that he has left himself absolutely 
 incapable, for the present, of the crowning graces and 
 joys of the Christian life. He has not taken the pre- 
 liminary steps. He has not educated himself up to 
 the possibility of the best satisfactions of a religious 
 experience. I do not say that such a man is incapa- 
 ble of believing in Christianity, if nothing more is 
 meant by this than what is called an historical faith ; 
 but he is incapable, in the existing state of his mind, 
 of that practical and saving faith whicli makes the 
 spiritual world present to the imagination and con- 
 sciousness through a living sympathy with divine 
 things. Again, I do not say of such a man, that 
 
SINS OF OMISSION. 221 
 
 he cannot pray, or that he never prays ; but this I 
 say : he cannot pray as those do with whom prayer 
 has become by habit as the breath of Hfe, and who 
 feel and know that they are heard in heaven. 
 
 You will observe that I have qualified my state- 
 ments of this incapacity by the words, " for the pres- 
 ent," and " in the existing state of his mind ; " but, 
 in a practical view of the subject, these qualifications 
 are hardly necessary. There is a considerable por- 
 tion of every one's life, during which he can hardly 
 be said to have any character, good or bad ; that is, 
 his habits of thought and feeling and action are 
 not as yet determined and fixed. While the char- 
 acter is thus in process of formation, slight causes 
 may essentially modify what it is to be ; but after 
 it has been formed, the basis of it, and the pervading 
 spirit of it, are seldom changed. Hence, whoever 
 neglects to do justice to the spiritual elements in his 
 nature, while his character is formings will be almost 
 sure, after his character is formed, to go on as he 
 has begun. With infrequent exceptions, the more 
 noticed because rare, we may say of men of formed 
 characters, " Once unspiritual, always unspiritual." 
 And, besides, even when an unspiritual man in after 
 life, from fear or interest, turns to religion, the ser- 
 vice is almost always a constrained service, mingled 
 with regrets and self-upbraidings ; so much so, that 
 should God forgive him in view of his sincere though 
 
222 SINS OF OMISSION. 
 
 late repentance, he will hardly be able to forgive 
 himself. The only secret of a happy religious life, 
 is a life religious from the beginning. 
 
 So true it is that a mere neglect, a sin of omission 
 merely, in our early days when the character is taking 
 a determinate shape, may, and often in fact does, 
 seal our fate for time and for eternity. 
 
 One word, in conclusion, on the injury which our 
 own sins of omission inflict directly on others. It is 
 not pretended that they can be compared, in this 
 respect, with many sins of commission ; those, for 
 example, of injustice and cruelty, where the injury, 
 real or intended, which is done to others, measures 
 the enormity of the offence. Even here, however, we 
 should remember, according to what has been said, 
 that injustice and cruelty are seldom committed ex- 
 cept in consequence of some neglect, — of neglect 
 to cultivate a spirit of moderation and self-control, 
 and, above all, of that spirit which the Gospel makes 
 to be the foundation and rule of social duty, loving 
 pur neighbor as ourselves. Hence it follows that a 
 large proportion of the positive wrong done to others, 
 as well as of that done to ourselves, may be traced, 
 indirectly and remotely, to sins of omission, to early 
 neglects. 
 
 Moreover, in estimating what others lose through 
 our sins of omission, it is not enough to take into 
 account their absolute loss. We are to consider that 
 
SINS OF OMISSION. 223 
 
 they lose, in this way, all that they ivould have gained, 
 if we had been faithful. To apply this remark to a 
 single case ; that of giving faithful counsel and warn- 
 ing to a friend in danger of falling into sin. I have 
 no doubt, that persons in early life are often in that 
 critical condition, in which a word, a look of encour- 
 agement or expostulation is sufficient to determine 
 the question of their whole lives. Not to give this 
 word, this look, is a sin of omission merely ; thou- 
 sands are guilty of it without feeling much, if any, 
 compunction ; and, in consequence, thousands are 
 lost. 
 
 There is also another injury which our sins of 
 omission do to others, and one which is the more 
 to be deprecated, because it falls, for the most part, 
 on those whom we should be most unwilhng to harm ; 
 I mean, our best friends. It is of the nature of 
 all sin to involve the friends of the sinner, more or 
 less, in the shame and suffering which he brings on 
 himself. Thus in sins of commission, the drunkard, 
 though he violates one of those duties which he is 
 said to owe especially to himself, violates at the 
 same time the duty which he owes to others, in- 
 volving in his own disgrace and ruin all who cling 
 to him in love, or lean on him for support. The 
 same is also true of sins of omission. Our friends 
 are not satisfied with knowing that we are not 
 drunkards, with knowing that we are not addicted 
 
224 SINS OF OMISSION. 
 
 to gross vice of any kind. Their just pride, their 
 affection, their partiality, often their own plans and 
 prospects in life, are bound up with the hope that 
 we shall distinguish ourselves, that we shall possess 
 positive excellences of mind and character, that we 
 shall so improve our opportunities as to fit our- 
 selves for honorable if not distinguished places in 
 society. Whoever wantonly disappoints this hope, 
 fondly cherished by so many loving and anxious 
 hearts, whoever disappoints it, though merely by in- 
 dolence or remissness on his own part, that is, by 
 sins of omission, by not doing what he knows he 
 can do and ought to do, betrays an unkindness, an 
 ingratitude, a baseness, which it is hard to over- 
 state. 
 
 Let us learn, then, to regard mere neglects, sins 
 of omission, in a more serious light. And it is the 
 more necessary that this should be impressed on 
 all, because the sins of which I now speak are 
 those to which good men, as well as bad men, are 
 continually liable. They are also sins which shock 
 no natural sentiment, which attract no considerable 
 attention at the time, which awaken no public in- 
 dignation. Yet these sins prepare the way for all 
 other sins. The. world is full of folly and wicked- 
 ness ; but the fountain-head of all folly and wicked- 
 ness is found in an indolent, neglectful, thought- 
 less spirit. " For the good that I would, I do not." 
 
SINS OF OMISSION. 225 
 
 Let me remind you, once more, of the Parable of 
 the Talents. It is not necessary that you should 
 misapply or waste your talent ; if you only bury it 
 in the earth, you must expect the doom, " Cast ye 
 the unprofitable servant into outer darkness; there 
 shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth." 
 
 10* 
 
NO HIDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 
 
 BE SURE TOUR SIN WILL FIND YOU OUT. — Numbers xxxii. 23. 
 
 Less is done towards repressing crime by merely 
 increasing the penalty than might, at first thought, 
 be supposed. The reason is, that penalties are for 
 the detected alone ; but most persons in deliberating 
 on crime count on escaping detection. Hence the 
 importance of exposing the vanity of this expecta- 
 tion. I think to be able to show that the wicked 
 in no case have a right to count upon concealment 
 as an ultimate ground of security and peace. " Be 
 sure your sin will find you out." 
 
 In cases of heinous crimes this, I suppose, will 
 be generally admitted. When the deed is of such 
 a nature as to outrage human feeling, and incense 
 the community as one man, it is hardly possible 
 that the perpetrator should escape. His guilt may 
 come to light by what seems to be the merest acci- 
 dent, and hence it is sometimes thought, that his 
 being detected at all is a mere accident : but this 
 is a mistake. In such a case there are innumerable 
 
NO HIDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 22T 
 
 accidents, as they are called, any one of which may 
 betray the culprit ; and where, in a highly excited 
 state of the public mind, there are innumerable 
 accidents, any one of which may betray the culprit, 
 it is not a mere accident, but amounts to moral 
 certainty, that some one of them actually will. Thus, 
 if a man has committed murder, or highway rob- 
 bery, you may say it is a mere chance, that he was 
 overheard plotting the crime, or tliat he was be- 
 trayed by an accomplice, or that he was seen lurk- 
 ing about the spot, or that anything was afterwards 
 found about his person, or his residence, leading to 
 his conviction : and so of any one of the thousand 
 possible ways of detection. But that he should 
 actually be detected in some one of these thousand 
 possible ways is not a matter of chance, but of 
 moral certainty. 
 
 With regard to minor offences, which create no 
 public alarm, and lead to no special investigations, 
 the offender, it is true, may often go, for a time, 
 not only unconvicted, but unsuspected. Mark, how- 
 ever, the issue. The secrecy and impunity with 
 which the deed is done will infallibly encourage and 
 embolden him to repeat it under other circumstan- 
 ces, and with greater and greater aggravations, multi- 
 plying at every step the chances of discovery, until 
 discovery, as in the case before mentioned, becomes 
 morally certain. Felons have confessed on the scaf- 
 
228 NO HIDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 
 
 fold, that they stood there in consequence of the 
 misfortune of not having been detected in their first 
 and slightest deviations from rectitude. The delay 
 operated only as a decoy of the Evil One. It was 
 the patient waiting of the Tempter, that his victim 
 might become more entirely and hopelessly involved, 
 before the snare was sprung. 
 
 But enough respecting crimes of which the laws 
 take cognizance. Let us pass to the consideration 
 of those offences which are punished, for the most 
 part, by loss of reputation or loss of confidence. 
 
 And here, again, we do not suppose that every 
 particular act will be detected or suspected : if it 
 were so, it would do more harm than good. Men 
 are sometimes surprised, over-persuaded, or betrayed 
 into single acts which have little or nothing to do 
 with their real character ; that is to say, with their 
 habits of thought and feeling and conduct. Thus, 
 from momentary inadvertence, or misinformation, or 
 mere physical depression, a man may be guilty of 
 a single act of meanness, though in his nature and 
 disposition the reverse of mean. And the same is 
 also true of single acts of servility, rudeness, in- 
 iustice, cruelty, excess. Now we do not say that 
 every such act will be reported and believed ; for 
 the public, at least the best part of the pubhc, is 
 slow to credit rumors which are contradicted, or 
 seem to be contradicted, by the whole tenor of a 
 
NO HIDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 229 
 
 man's life. And this is well. No good would come 
 from the occasional lapses of worthy men being in 
 everybody's mouth. It is not necessary as a warn- 
 ing to beware of their society, for there is no danger 
 in the society of such men ; and, besides, it would 
 lead to substantial injustice, because it would lead 
 to charges or suspicions implicating the whole char- 
 acter of men whose character is in the main sound. 
 
 No doubt one of the consequences is, that while 
 bad men often pass for being worse than they really 
 are, good men quite as often pass for being better, 
 or at any rate for being more faultless or immacu- 
 late than they really are ; — a remark which is es- 
 pecially applicable to the great names of history, 
 where only the leading and characteristic traits 
 are given. But this, too, is wisely ordered, as it 
 helps to keep up the standard of virtue ; — not 
 only of that virtue which has been, but also of 
 that which is to be. Hence the repugnance so gen- 
 erally and so properly felt at the officiousness of 
 those who seek to bring to light the infirmities and 
 inconsistencies of really great and good men, now 
 no more ; especially when the reputation and mem- 
 ory of these men have come to be regarded as part 
 of the moral wealth, as well as of the just pride, 
 of their country. 
 
 Let it be, then, that single acts often are, and of 
 right ought to be, buried in oblivion, especially 
 
230 NO HIDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 
 
 when they do not represent the real character : but 
 not so, with the character itself; — if that be bad, " be 
 sure your sin will find you out." The scoffer, the 
 intriguer, the sharper, the libertine, — are they not 
 known ? I do not mean, every particular offence 
 they have committed, but what sort of men they 
 are. Of course, the usages of what is called good 
 society will not allow us to tell them so to their 
 faces : nay more, these usages often lead us, far 
 beyond what is necessary or right, to pay an out- 
 ward respect to persons for whom no inward re- 
 spect is felt. But listen to men's speeches in their 
 places of business, or in social intercourse, or in 
 the family circle, and you will find that they are 
 not quite so regardless of moral distinctions, that 
 they are not quite so much the dupes of hollow 
 pretension, even when upheld by wealth and influ- 
 ence and show, as might at first sight appear. 
 
 Instances in which individuals have succeeded for 
 any length of time in hiding their true character from 
 the world are much more rare than is commonly 
 thought. Take, for example, the vices of dissipation 
 and excess, — how almost invariably do they betray 
 themselves in the looks, the gait, and the decaying 
 health, as well as in the wasted fortunes, of their 
 victim ! The mark is upon him, beyond the power 
 of cosmetics, or grace of manners, or social position, 
 to conceal. And even in respect to the vices of 
 
NO HIDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 231 
 
 craft and dissimulation, — who does not know that 
 it is of the nature of the plausibiHty and address 
 which these imply to awaken distrust? so that, 
 though a mist may thus be thrown around the 
 character which will prevent anything from being 
 distinctly seen, it will only be that everything may 
 be suspected. I do not say, you will observe, that 
 every bad action of such a man will come to light, 
 but only that his leading propensities will ; and 
 after this, that is, after his neighbors have begun 
 to look upon him as addicted to craft and dissimu- 
 lation, depend upon it, for one bad action which 
 he commits without being suspected, he will be sus- 
 pected of twenty of which he is wholly innocent. 
 
 It will be objected, perhaps, that I have not allowed 
 enough for the wonderful abilities of bad men, by 
 which they are able to elude or baffle discovery. Let 
 me begin my reply to this remark by protesting gen- 
 erally against that senseless cant, which would make 
 every knave a man of talents, and talk about there 
 being more ingenuity and mother wit in prisons than 
 in colleges. Undoubtedly here and there an indi- 
 vidual may be found, among the self-abandoned, of 
 more than ordinary native power, who, in different 
 circumstances, and under a different training, might 
 have made himself a useful, and perhaps a distm- 
 guished member of society. But, even in such cases, 
 it is of the nature of conscious guilt to contract and 
 
232 NO HIDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 
 
 COW the most gifted mind ; under the influence of 
 which native sagacity degenerates into a vile cunning, 
 that is proverbial for taking narrow views, and mis- 
 calculating remote consequences, and so, in the end, 
 circumventing itself. 
 
 Of a piece with this cant about the wonderful abil- 
 ities of bad men is the cant about their honor, — the 
 honor, which, according to the proverb, is found 
 among thieves, enabling them to trust each other with 
 safety. Formerly, I suppose, there was more of this 
 than there is now, or is likely to be again. Formerly 
 superstition, though it did not keep bad men true 
 to morality in general, often had the effect to keep 
 them true to dark and mysterious pledges entered 
 into among themselves. But superstition, among 
 such persons, is now everywhere giving place to total 
 infidelity, to a blank atheism, and this is destroying 
 the last hold ^hich the bad have on each other. 
 
 Under these circumstances, I might ask again for 
 evidence of the caution or sagacity of bad men, of 
 which so much is said, seeing that they are so ready 
 to confide in others whom they must know to be as 
 bad as themselves. Nay, on any principle, it would 
 be difiicult to account for such recklessness, if we did 
 not know that daring outrages generally suppose and 
 require an extended conspiracy ; that there are few 
 vices which a man can commit absolutely alone ; and 
 that, even in respect to these, there is a dreariness 
 
NO HIDING-PLACE FOK THE WICKED. 233 
 
 in crime which craves companionship at any risk. 
 Explain the fact, however, as you will, or leave it 
 unexplained, it cannot fail to multiply at every step 
 the chances, that is to say, the antecedent probabil- 
 ities, of exposure and public shame. " Be sure your 
 sin will find you out." 
 
 " Curse not the king," says the Preacher, " no, 
 not in thy thought ; and curse not the rich in thy 
 bed-chamber ; for a bird of the air shall carry the 
 voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the mat- 
 ter." The ways in which crime has been brought 
 to light have been so mysterious, so inexplicable, 
 as to afford to the popular mind, in all ages, the most 
 convincing proof that an overruling Providence occa- 
 sionally interposes in the affairs of men. This is 
 true not only of the crimes which are punished judi- 
 cially, but also of those which are punished by the 
 loss of confidence, the loss of friendship, or the more 
 terrible reprisals of public scorn and indignation. 
 Everybody is known. The professed thieves and 
 rogues of England make it matter of banter that, by 
 a mathematical calculation of chances, they can tell 
 beforehand, within the fraction of a year, how long 
 they are likely to elude the vigilance of the police. 
 Sooner or later everybody is known, — not only the 
 thief, the robber, the murderer, but the rogue in a 
 small way, the hypocritical pretender to religion, the 
 charlatan in science, the gamester, the libertine, the 
 
234 NO HIDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 
 
 swindler in genteel life, — sooner or later all are 
 known. Indeed, so various and subtile are the means 
 of self-delusion and self-mystification, I do not think 
 I go too far when I say, that in many cases, perhaps 
 in most cases, a man is sooner found out by his 
 neighbors than by himself. This remark applies to 
 the young especially, who, from want of experience, 
 do not know how far they can go in vicious indul- 
 gences before a character is formed, and who there- 
 fore think but lightly of what they have done thus 
 far, as implying nothing worse than levity or indis- 
 cretion on their part, while their friends, who under- 
 stand human nature better, are mourning over them 
 as wellnigh lost. 
 
 But I have insisted on the notoriety of crime fur- 
 ther than my text requires : " Be sure your sin will 
 find you out," even if the world does not. Suppose 
 the sin locked up in the sinner's breast, and suppose, 
 moreover, that he feels no proper compunction for 
 it, it does not follow that he feels no inquietude, no 
 anxiety. The freedom, the confidence, the peace, the 
 self-respect of conscious integrity are gone when 
 the integrity itself is gone. Mere reputation, whether 
 well or ill-founded, may win applause, it is true ; but 
 applause is not likely to give much inward satisfac- 
 tion to one who is conscious that it is bestowed 
 through ignorance or mistake, and that it would be 
 changed into scorn if the truth were known. And 
 
NO fflDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 285 
 
 then there is the unceasing apprehension that the 
 truth will be known, — a nervous uneasiness about 
 the future, an anxious looking into men's faces to see 
 whether they have not begun to suspect us, an in- 
 genuity of self-torture which construes the slightest 
 coincidence into evidence that the secret is out. So 
 keenly is this sometimes felt, even in matters involv- 
 ing only the loss of property and social position, that 
 persons who have contrived to conceal their failing 
 circumstances from the world for years, have after- 
 wards confessed that they never had a moment's 
 peace until their real condition was known ; in other 
 words, that the dreaded discovery was a means of 
 relieving their minds of a burden which had become 
 intolerable. And so, of crime. Felons have borne 
 about the secret of their guilt, until they could bear 
 it no longer, and then have informed against them- 
 selves, and surrendered themselves up to justice, 
 under the maddening conviction that the hell of 
 reality could not be worse than the hell of suspense. 
 I will now go one step further, and suppose the 
 sin not only unknown to the public, but unacknowl- 
 edged and ususpected by the sinner himself. This 
 may sometimes happen from the influence of custom 
 or fashion or a bad education in making men insen- 
 sible to moral distinctions ; especially where the sin 
 consists not so much in what we have done, as in 
 what we have left undone. Even in this case, how- 
 
236 NO HIDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 
 
 ever, " be sure your sin will find you out " ; for 
 its effects on your progress and happiness, and its 
 consequences generally in the present life and the 
 life to come, will still follow, whether you trace 
 them or not to their true cause. Thousands, for 
 example, lament the want of a devout spirit, as- 
 cribing it to constitutional defects, or the necessities 
 of their condition, when, in fact, it is mostly, if not 
 wholly, the just penalty of an habitual and voluntary 
 neglect of the means of religion. Others, again, are 
 cursed, they know not why, with a sceptical turn of 
 mind, or with a misanthropic disposition, or with 
 sordid or depraved tastes, which make them incapa- 
 ble, for the time, of seeing or enjoying the highest 
 truth and the highest good. If they would look a 
 little more closely and faithfully into their own con- 
 duct, and into the laws of the human constitution, 
 they would find, at least as a general rule, that they 
 are but abiding the penalty, the just and inevitable 
 doom which follows, whether they know it or not, 
 the indulgence of a cavilling spirit, or low desires, 
 or the mere neglect to cultivate and cherish the so- 
 cial virtues. Their sin has found them out, though 
 they have not found out their sin. 
 
 Those, therefore, who do not find out the sin from 
 itself, will be likely to find it out sooner or later from 
 its consequences, and see its connection with these 
 consequences, and awake at length to their true 
 
NO HIDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 237 
 
 moral condition. Remorse does not depend on the 
 fact of our degradation, nor on our sense of this fact, 
 but on our sense of the manner in which it has been 
 incurred. We feel that we have brought it on our- 
 selves. We feel that we might have done differently. 
 We feel that we have taken the sovereign gifts of rea- 
 son and freedom, and made one the pander, and the 
 other the slave of our passions and lusts. Hence our 
 abasement and anguish under the impending decree 
 of Eternal Justice. And this remorse, — exult not 
 in the thought that you can stifle or dissipate it for 
 a while. It is the madness of one who would drug 
 himself with opiates in the first stages of a fever ; it is 
 allowing the fire to burn on, which is burning into 
 the very heart of your life and peace. And all 
 such efforts must fail at last. History abounds with 
 instances of bold bad men, whom a self-accusing 
 spirit has overtaken at last, even in this world, and 
 smitten them with sudden and unimaginable terrors. 
 But suppose them to die, untouched and unreclaimed, 
 it will not be through any incapacity or insensibility 
 of the soul itself ; but through the power of worldly 
 objects and pursuits to blind, distract, or lull the 
 soul. At death all these will pass away, and the 
 soul will be left as it is, naked and defenceless in 
 the hands of an avenging conscience and an aveng- 
 ing God. 
 
 This, then, is the conclusion of the whole matter. 
 
288 NO HIDING-PLACE FOR THE WICKED. 
 
 Let no one count upon concealment as an ultimate 
 ground of security and peace. If addicted to sin, 
 by no cunning or address can we hope to elude the 
 eye even of man for any length of time ; much less 
 that of God, or the scourges of a self-upbraiding 
 mind, or those dark and shapeless forms of woe 
 which menace us from the eternal world, and await 
 us there. How truly and solemnly do the Scrip- 
 tures say of a wicked man, that he " walketh upon 
 a snare." " He that walketh uprightly walketh 
 surely : but he that perverteth his ways shall be 
 known." 
 
THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 
 
 THOU SHALT SAT, NO. — Judges iv. 20. 
 
 Here is one of the shortest words in our language ; 
 yet there is none which persons of an easy and yield- 
 ing disposition find it so difficult to pronounce. To 
 say it, however, is one of the first lessons which we 
 have occasion to learn, and one of the most frequent 
 we are called upon to practise. You can hardly 
 mention a cause which has done more to lead men 
 into embarrassment, distress, and crime, than disre- 
 gard of this caution. And what makes it worse 
 is, that men of the best understandings and finest 
 natural dispositions are quite as liable as any to fall 
 into the snare. It is not generally our judgment 
 which is at fault in such cases. We know that the 
 solicitation is an improper one, and ought to be re- 
 sisted ; still we cannot muster resolution enough to 
 do it. 
 
 A young man just entering into life is solicited 
 by his gay companions to take part in their dissipa- 
 tions. He feels that it would be wrong; that it can 
 
240 THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 
 
 lead to nothing but evil ; that it ought to be resisted. 
 And yet he cannot muster resolution enough to say, 
 No. He consents, goes on from step to step, and 
 in the end is ruined. An affectionate mother is 
 besought by her children to grant them some im- 
 proper indulgence. She feels that it would be an 
 improper indulgence ; that it can only do them harm, 
 and therefore that she ought not to grant it. And 
 yet she cannot find it in her heart to say, No. She 
 consents, and her children are materially injured, 
 perhaps ruined. A person is importuned by his fam- 
 ily, or his friends, to go into habits of living more 
 expensive than he can afford. He knows that his 
 resources are not equal to it. He feels that this 
 will soon appear, and therefore that it is folly and 
 madness in him to do it. And yet he cannot muster 
 resolution enough to say. No. He consents, and 
 is ruined. A man in business is importuned to be 
 bound for another. He feels that it would be the 
 height of imprudence ; that it would be to risk not 
 his own property only, but that of his creditors, 
 and this too, perhaps, without any real benefit to 
 the person he would befriend. He feels that he has 
 no right to do it. And yet he cannot find it in his 
 heart to say. No. He consents, and it turns out 
 just as he expected, — he is ruined. 
 
 All this comes from a man's not having resolu- 
 tion enough to say. No, when he feels and knows 
 
THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 241 
 
 that this is the proper word. You must admit, there- 
 fore, I think, that the subject is of sufficient impor- 
 tance to engage your attention, while a few consid- 
 erations are offered which should induce us all to 
 act with more firmness and consistency in this re- 
 spect. 
 
 In the first place, then, let us learn to respect 
 our own judgment in what we do. If, on a view 
 of all the circumstances, we think we ought to say. 
 No, let us have the courage and firmness and inde- 
 pendence to say it. 
 
 As we have before observed, it is not often that 
 our judgment is at fault in such cases. We think 
 right, but we have not courage and independence 
 enough to act as we think ; for fear that after all 
 we may be mistaken ; or for fear of the construction 
 other people may put on our motives ; or for fear 
 of losing the favor or incurring the enmity of the 
 persons we may disoblige by our refusal. We should 
 remember, however, that there is a degree of courage, 
 firmness, and independence necessary, not only to 
 a wise, but even to a virtuous conduct. A man 
 who dares not act according to his own convictions 
 of what is right, for fear that after all he may 
 be mistaken, — I will not say that he has no re- 
 gard for conscience, but this I will say : he has no 
 confidence in conscience, which in practice amounts 
 to nearly tlie same thing. Besides, with respect to 
 11 p 
 
242 THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 
 
 the construction which other people may put on our 
 motives, if we only take care that our motives are 
 what they should be, and that our whole conduct 
 is in keeping, we need not entertain any apprehen- 
 sions but that in the long run ample justice will 
 be done them by all whose approbation is worth hav- 
 ing. Nay, a person who is understood to pursue 
 this independent course, — who is understood to act 
 in all cases from his own convictions of what is proper 
 and right, derives a peculiar credit from this very 
 circumstance ; so that though in his conduct he may 
 sometimes fall into manifest error, his motives will 
 never be called in question. Things will not be 
 blamed in him which would hardly be tolerated in 
 anybody else. And even the person whom you dis- 
 oblige by your refusal, you will not lose his regard 
 if he is convinced, by the firmness and consistency 
 of your general conduct, that you refuse him on 
 principle. Nay, he will feel, and in spite of himself 
 he cannot but feel, a thousand times more respect 
 for you who thus refuse his request, than for those 
 who grant it, under circumstances, however, which 
 convince him, that it is only because they have not, 
 like you, sufficient firmness and independence to 
 say. No. 
 
 I have shown that it is but the part of a manly 
 independence to have the courage and firmness to 
 say, No, when we are convinced that tliis is the 
 
THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 243 
 
 proper word. I shall proceed to show, in the second 
 place, that it is no less a dictate of prudence^ and 
 practical wisdom. 
 
 You can hardly step your foot on the threshold 
 of life without encountering seduction in every pos- 
 sible shape ; and unless you are prepared to resist 
 it firmly, you are a doomed man. What makes it 
 still more dangerous is, that the first solicitations of 
 vice often come under such disguised forms, and 
 relate to things seemingly so trivial, as to give 
 hardly any warning of the fatal consequences, to 
 which by slow and insensible gradations they are 
 almost sure to lead. As you value, then, your 
 health and reputation, your peace of mind and per- 
 sonal independence, learn to say. No. You that 
 are just entering into life, do not wait to learn it 
 from your own bitter experience ; learn it from the 
 example and fate of others ; learn it from the Word 
 of God. Remember, it was for not doing this that 
 our first parents fell ; and after them all their chil- 
 dren, in like manner. " The serpent beguiled me, 
 and I did eat," has been the history of sin, from 
 its first commencement in the Garden of Eden. In- 
 quire into the sources of human misery, study the 
 first beginnings of crime, and, meet with it where 
 you may, by tracing it back to its first cause you 
 will find it to have been, in almost every instance, 
 merely because they could not say. No, to the 
 
244 THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 
 
 Tempter. Put the question to one who has wasted 
 his substance in riotous living, put it to him who 
 has staked his last shilling and lost it at the gaming- 
 table, put it to the first miserable object who asks 
 alms of you in the streets, or go into your prisons 
 and put it to the felon there ; and they will all 
 answer you to the same effect, and almost in the 
 same words. The burden of their confession will 
 be, that they owe every calamity which has befallen 
 them to their not having had firmness enough, at 
 some turning-point of their destiny, to say. No. 
 
 As you would avoid their fate, let me then con- 
 jure you to avoid its cause. I am not now ap- 
 pealing to your sense of right, or the obligations 
 you are under to society or your Maker. I am 
 appealing to the strongest, or at least the most uni- 
 versal instinct in the human mind, — a desire to 
 escape evil in your own persons ; and if there were 
 no other topic of which I could avail myself, this 
 alone I should consider as sufficient, so clearly is 
 the maxim which I am recommending a dictate of 
 an enlightened and well-regulated self-love. To be 
 sure it is easy enough to conceive of cases in which 
 to say, No, even though we ought to say it, may 
 give us some pain at the time. But what of that ? 
 How much better, how much more prudent to meet 
 this evil at once, rather than suffer it to grow upon 
 us by concession and delay, and this, too, with a 
 
THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 245 
 
 moral certainty that it must be met sooner or later, 
 and under circumstances of continually increasing 
 pain and difficulty. If we could say, Yes, to every- 
 thing, and that were the last of it, we might be in- 
 clined, very naturally and very reasonably, to a course 
 apparently so amiable and so accommodating. But 
 when we know that it is only to involve ourselves 
 and our friends in the ruinous consequences of a 
 mistake which will certainly injure, and very pos- 
 sibly may ruin both, — who does not perceive that it 
 is to violate every principle of practical wisdom ? 
 
 The same conduct which I have shown to be 
 necessary to a manly independence and to a pru- 
 dent regard to our own interest, I shall next prove 
 to be in no sense inconsistent with a benevolent and 
 truly generous disposition. 
 
 One of the most common mistakes on this sub- 
 ject is to confound an easy disposition with a be- 
 nevolent disposition : two things which in fact are 
 as wide asunder as the East from the West. A 
 man of an easy disposition is so commonly merely 
 because he will not make the effort a more firm 
 and steady conduct requires. And why will he not 
 make this effort ? Because he will not take the 
 trouble of making it. He yields to importunity in 
 almost every instance from the same motive witli 
 the unjust judge mentioned in Scripture : " Lest by 
 her continual coming she weary me." But is this 
 
246 THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 
 
 benevolence ? Is it so much as an abuse of benev- 
 olence ? Is it not sheer selfishness ? 
 
 I know that another plea is often set up. It is 
 remarkable of most of our weaknesses, as of our 
 vices, that all are for claiming kindred with virtue, 
 pretending to be the offspring of some good dis- 
 position, — carried a little too far perhaps, but still 
 a good disposition. This propensity is strikingly ex- 
 emplified in the weakness which it is our present object 
 to expose. We choose to believe and to have others 
 believe, that our unwillingness to say, No, arises 
 wholly, or chiefly, from our unwillingness to give 
 anybody the pain of a refusal ; that it springs from 
 benevolence, because it hurts our feelings to hurt 
 the feelings of other people : so that, after all, the 
 worst that can be said of it is, that it is an excess 
 of benevolence. 
 
 But let us examine this plea a little more closely. 
 It is, you will observe, because it hurts our feelings 
 to hurt the feelings of other people that we are 
 thus unwilling to say. No. It might hurt the feel- 
 ings of other people just as much as it now does, 
 and still if this did not, by a law of our nature, 
 have the effect to hurt our feelings too, it is not 
 pretended that we should experience any of this 
 reluctance. To give a case in point. A weak mother 
 cannot make up her mind to refuse anything to a 
 darling child, even though she knows it will be to 
 
THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 247 
 
 the child's serious injury, and all, forsooth, because 
 it will hurt her feelings so much to give the child 
 the pain of a refusal. Suppose it will hurt her 
 feelings ; it is certainly a strange mark of benev- 
 olence to the child to be willing to do him an 
 essential injury, rather than to hurt her own feel- 
 ings. After all, you perceive that it is her own 
 feelings she is thinking of, and not the good of the 
 child ; nay, that she is willing to sacrifice the good of 
 the child to her own feelings. And pray, is not this 
 selfishness, — a little disguised perhaps, a little re- 
 fined perhaps, but still at bottom a real selfishness ? 
 
 A timid acquiescence in what we feel to be wrong 
 is often the result of mere selfishness ; and where 
 it is not the result of selfishness, it is the result of 
 weakness. Indeed, we can hardly give to any one 
 so strong a proof of genuine friendship, as to resist 
 his importunities to the last, when convinced that 
 it would be to his injury, were we to consent. For 
 it shows that we are thinking of his good, and that 
 we have more regard for that than for our own feel- 
 ings, or even for his good opinion. 
 
 Having shown that independence, prudence, and 
 benevolence alike require the conduct I have been 
 recommending, it only remains for me, in the fourth 
 and last place, to urge it upon you as a matter -of 
 moral and religious duty. 
 
 It is a great error, though a common one, not to 
 
248 THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 
 
 suppose that the principle of duty extends to almost 
 all our actions ; requiring them or forbidding them, 
 as being either right or wrong. We talk of actions 
 as being honorable or dishonorable, as being pru- 
 dent or imprudent, as being benevolent or other- 
 wise, but what is honorable or prudent or benevo- 
 lent is also right. Everything, therefore, which has 
 already been said to prove the conduct in question 
 a dictate of benevolence, prudence, and manly inde- 
 pendence, goes also to the same extent to prove it 
 to be our duty, — our imperative duty. 
 
 Besides, take the words as they stand. If, con- 
 sidering all the circumstances, we ou^ht to say. No, 
 then it is our duty to say it, let the consequences 
 be what they may. It is nothing, that the customs 
 of the country authorize and even expect a differ- 
 ent conduct; it is nothing, that the world may put 
 a false construction on our motives ; it is nothing 
 that it may hurt our own feelings or the feelings of 
 others. There are many other duties which we are 
 called upon to practise at all these hazards ; but 
 in no case do these hazards, or can these hazards, pro- 
 cure for us a dispensation. If it is our duty, it is 
 our duty. If it can only be practised at great sac- 
 rifices, this is our misfortune ; but it does not annul 
 the laws of God ; it does not destroy our obligations 
 or make them any less binding, or the consequences 
 of violating them any the less certain or fearful. 
 
THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 249 
 
 It is then our duty, our imperative duty to say, 
 No, to all improper solicitations. Let us do it, there- 
 fore, because it is our duty. Let this be our motive ; 
 for but little reliance can be placed on the other 
 motives if this be not also felt ; nay, if this be not the 
 predominant motive. Some men can never say. No, 
 unless they are in a passion, and are therefore driven 
 to the mortifying necessity of working themselves up 
 into a passion before they can find the courage to do 
 it. Again there are others, who will trust themselves 
 to say. No, only as a matter of policy ; and with 
 whom, therefore, the question is not, What ought I 
 to say ? but. What will it be for my interest to say ? 
 There is also a third class that will say. No, — and say 
 it often enough too, if that were all, — from mere 
 churlishness and ill-humor; but I need not observe 
 that this is very far from being the conduct I am 
 here recommending. Putting aside all such consid- 
 erations, let us learn to resist improper solicitations 
 from a sense of duty. It should be enough to know 
 that it is our duty. Let us act on this principle, 
 and we shall never refuse except when duty requires 
 it ; but at such times our refusal will be much more 
 decided and effectual, while it will be made under 
 circumstances of much greater dignity on our part, 
 and of much less irritation on the part of those whom 
 it may disappoint. 
 
 Moreover, while we act from a sense of duty, we 
 11* 
 
250 THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 
 
 should connect with this feeling a conviction that 
 it is one of religious obligation. God has required 
 us to pursue a course of undeviating rectitude. 
 Whoever, therefore, would seduce us from this, sets 
 himself against God, and we must deny one or the 
 other. Whether in such a case we should deny God, 
 rather than man, let conscience judge. 
 
 From what has been said we must perceive, that 
 it is alike the dictate of independence, prudence, 
 benevolence, and duty to resist all improper solicita- 
 tions. Let us learn then to say. No ; and let us 
 mean what we say ; and let us stand by what we 
 mean. 
 
 Are you solicited to engage in any pursuits, or 
 to enter into any engagements which your con- 
 sciences reject, or which you foresee will bring a 
 cloud on your prospects of honor and usefulness ? 
 " Thou shalt say. No." Are you pressed to grant 
 favors or indulgences to persons who have no right 
 to ask them, or who can only be injured by them, 
 — favors or indulgences, too, which you are not in 
 a condition to bestow consistently with your other 
 engagements ? " Thou shalt say. No." Are you 
 importuned to join in any amusements, to consent 
 in any customs or concur in any measures, which 
 you believe will sully the purity of your character 
 or lessen the weight of your good influences, or in 
 any way exert a mischievous effect on society ? 
 
THOU SHALT SAY, NO. 251 
 
 "Thou shalt say, No." Let the consequences be 
 what they may, " Thou shalt say, No." 
 
 And for your reward you will have the approba- 
 tion of your own consciences, the esteem and con- 
 fidence of all whose favor is worth desiring, and an 
 escape from all those embarrassing and perhaps 
 fatal consequences in which a more compliant con- 
 duct would have entangled you. And what shall 
 I say more ? In a better world such a course of 
 firm, consistent, and undeviating rectitude will be 
 rewarded by the applause of angels, the welcome 
 of the Saviour, — ''glory, honor, and peace." 
 
THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 
 
 KEEP THY HEART WITH ALL DILIGENCE ; FOR OUT OF IT ARE THE 
 
 ISSUES OF LIFE. — Proverbs iv. 23. 
 
 It is quite obvious that most men practically under- 
 rate the influence of the heart, compared with that of 
 the head, on success and happiness. It is also easy 
 to account for the mistake, and, at the same time, 
 to show that it is a mistake ; and this is what I now 
 propose to do. I propose to show that the Heart is 
 more than the Head in all the great interests and 
 issues of human life. 
 
 It is so, in the first place, if we look only at human 
 dignity. We are apt, I know, to slide into a different 
 opinion, from the habit of regarding reason as man's 
 distinction and glory. As for the passions and affec- 
 tions, we are said to share them with the inferior 
 animals ; but reason belongs to man alone. Hence 
 the natural conclusion, that reason, the intellect, the 
 head and not the heart, is the principal thing. 
 
 But this conclusion, however natural, is unfounded. 
 There can be no doubt that what constitutes the 
 
THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 253 
 
 distinction and glorj of man may be traced ultimately 
 to his reason. Still his highest distinction and glory 
 are not found in his reason as manifested in mere 
 understanding, but in his reason as manifested in 
 his active and moral powers ; that is to say, in his 
 sentiments, dispositions, affections, after they have 
 been informed and transfigured by reason. When 
 we are told, as above, that we share our passions 
 and affections with the inferior animals, we are told 
 one of those half-truths, which are often found to 
 be among the most pernicious, certainly among the 
 most seductive, of errors. I do not deny that ani- 
 mals have what may be called the shadows, or, if 
 you please, the germs, the beginnings of some of 
 the human passions and affections : such as grati- 
 tude and resentment, the love of society and the 
 love of offspring. But in animals these springs of 
 action always^- operate as blind instincts ; they are 
 never unfolded by thought, as in man, into intelli- 
 gent and moral principles, and never can be ; and 
 therefore can never properly be represented as be- 
 ing the same in animals as in man, though called 
 by the same name. Moreover, there are some pas- 
 sions and affections in man, which not only suppose 
 reason, but are founded on it ; such as the love of 
 truth, the love of beauty, the love of virtue, and the 
 love of God ; of which animals do not have, and 
 cannot have, even so much as the beginnings or 
 
254 THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 
 
 germs. Accordingly we say, that the proper human 
 passions and aiBfections, some of which are founded 
 on reason, and ail of which are touched and illumi- 
 nated by reason, are not shared by the inferior ani- 
 mals; that there is nothing among the animal in- 
 stincts which answers to what is meant by the human 
 heart ; and furthermore, that it is in the distinctions 
 of this heart, and not in those of mere understanding, 
 sagacity, cunning, that the loftiest qualities of human 
 nature are found. 
 
 Some may object with confidence, that compass 
 and reach of intellect are certainly elements of 
 power, and that power exalts, if it does not bless. 
 But is it so clear that compass and reach of intellect, 
 simply considered, are elements of power ? Can you 
 not conceive of persons, have you never met with 
 persons, who are very knowing, yet very inefficient 
 and weak where anything is to be done 9 I am afraid 
 it may sound like affectation or pedantry to call in 
 question the often repeated aphorism of Lord Bacon, 
 that " Knowledge is power." Nevertheless, knowl- 
 edge is not power, personal power, but only one of its 
 instruments. The power is not in the knowledge, but 
 in the moral qualities or the passions which accom- 
 pany it, which lie behind it, constituting what is 
 called force of character. Without this force of char- 
 acter, which resides in the impulsive part of our 
 nature, all the knowledge in the world would not 
 
THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 255 
 
 make a man personally powerfnl either for good or 
 for evil. I do not deny that the highest order of 
 greatness among civilized men supposes high intel- 
 lectual endowments ; but it supposes them just as 
 the highest order of greatness among savages sup- 
 poses gigantic strength and stature. It supposes them, 
 not as the essence, but as the instrument of great- 
 ness : the essence of greatness, always and every- 
 where, is a great spirit. Where this exists in an 
 eminent degree, that is to say, where there is a 
 union of courage, self-devotion, and a lofty purpose, 
 it is amazing how much a man can do, without ex- 
 traordinary intellectual gifts, to make himself really 
 great, to impress himself on the circle in which he 
 moves, and even on his country and the age, and 
 this, too, not merely as a man of affairs, but as a 
 controlling mind in church or state. 
 
 Thus much of human greatness. But if, as befits 
 the condition and prospects of most men, we do not 
 aspire to be great, but only to be truly happy ^ here 
 I hardly need say that the heart is not only the 
 principal thing, but almost everything. What is 
 happiness but the sum total of the gratifications of 
 a man's affections and desires ? Here, therefore, it 
 is certain that the heart is more than the head. In- 
 tellectual superiority has been shown to be, and we 
 have expressly allowed it to be, one of the instru- 
 ments of greatness, though not any part of the 
 
256 THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 
 
 essence of real greatness ; but I am not sure that we 
 have a right to set it down as being even so much 
 as one of the means or instruments of happiness. You 
 may urge that it often enlarges a man's sphere of 
 usefulness : and so it does ; but the happiness result- 
 ing from usefulness does not depend on the amount 
 of good done ; it depends on the spirit with which 
 it is done, on its being done from the love of good- 
 ness. Still you may insist, that so far as happiness 
 is made up of the pleasures of knowledge, it must 
 certainly be greater in proportion to the extent of 
 the knowledge. Even this, however, by no means 
 follows. The pleasures of knowledge itself do not 
 depend on the extent of the knowledge, or of the 
 capacity of knowledge, but on the love of knowl- 
 edge ; which brings us back again to a quality of 
 the heart. 
 
 But enough of greatness and happiness ; it is 
 time to speak of character. I observe, then, sec- 
 ondly, that the heart has more to do than the head 
 in determining the distinctions of character. 
 
 We have just seen that men often mistake the 
 relation which reason bears to human dignity. It 
 is also true that they often mistake the relation 
 which principle bears to character. There is an am- 
 biguity in the meaning of this word, on the strength 
 of which many will argue thus : Every man becomes 
 what his principles make him ; but a man's prin- 
 
THE HEAET MORE THAN THE HEAD. 257 
 
 ciples are what he thinks to be right. Now to 
 think is obviously a function of the head, and not 
 of the heart, of the intellect, and not of the feel- 
 ings : whence they conclude that every man is what 
 the use or abuse of his intellect makes him to be. 
 
 In order to set aside this conclusion it is not 
 necessary to contradict, in terms, the proposition on 
 which the argument is based. All must agree that 
 a man's real character depends, not on his outward 
 actions, but on the principles from which he acts. 
 By principles, however, in this connection, we are 
 not to understand express, but operative principles ; 
 not abstract rules assented to as true and right, but 
 real springs of action existing in the individual him- 
 self; that is to say, his predominant appetites, de- 
 sires, affections. We aim to judge men, as far as 
 we are able, not according to what they do, nor 
 yet according to what they think; but according to 
 what they incline to or love : not according to what 
 they think they ought to love, but according to 
 what they show they really love. Thus we do not 
 call a man a miser merely because he saves money ; 
 for he may save money to give it away : but we 
 call a man a miser because he saves money from 
 the love of money. Again, we call a man generous, 
 not because he is lavish of his gifts ; for he may be 
 lavish of his gifts from ostentation, or from political 
 motives : but we call him generous, because we 
 
 Q 
 
258 THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 
 
 believe him to give from a generous disposition. For 
 the same reason, we call a man cheerful and re- 
 signed, not because we understand him to have 
 come to the conclusion that cheerfulness and resig- 
 nation are good things ; but because we believe 
 that he really has a cheerful and resigned temper. 
 
 But why multiply illustrations ? In our judg- 
 ments of character, and especially in our more solemn 
 judgments of moral character, it is always so. Law, 
 human law, deals with the outward act ; morality, 
 with the inward feeling, sentiment, or propensity 
 which prompts the act. Morality, it is true, pro- 
 nounces the act to be right or wrong ; it approves 
 or condemns the outward act, but it approves or 
 condemns it as exemplifying' some good or bad affec- 
 tion or disposition. At bottom, what is approved 
 or condemned is some good or bad affection or dis- 
 position. To be convinced of this it is only neces- 
 sary to reflect, how instantly our gratitude for a 
 gift is changed into indifference or contempt, on 
 ascertaining that it did not originate, as we at first 
 supposed, in the kindness or generosity of the giver, 
 but in some selfish or sinister purpose : for ex- 
 ample, that it was intended to seduce or corrupt us. 
 
 Thus it appears that all the distinctions of char- 
 acter, as well as of happiness and dignity, resolve 
 themselves at last into distinctions of disposition or 
 temper, and not of intellect or understanding, show- 
 
TIIE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 259 
 
 ing incontestably, as it seems to me, that the heart, 
 and not the head, is the princijDal thing. 
 
 So hkewise the Gospel teaches. Here, I am aware, 
 we have no right to construe the term hearty which 
 is of so frequent recurrence in Scripture, as sug- 
 gesting of itself^ as it commonly does in modern 
 speech, the antithesis between the affections and the 
 understanding ; or, in other words, the heart in con- 
 tradistinction to the head. The reason is, that, in 
 popular language, the ancients generally, and among 
 the rest the Hebrews, did not, like us, make the head 
 the seat of the understanding, and the heart tlie seat 
 of the affections : they made the heart to be the seat 
 of both. Still whenever the state of the heart is re- 
 ferred to in the New Testament as a condition of Di- 
 vine favor, or of final salvation, I believe it can always 
 be shown, either from the connection, or in some 
 other way, to denote a state of the affections, — a 
 state of the active and moral powers, — and not of 
 the understanding merely, or of the speculative con- 
 victions, or of outward service. " For he is not a Jew, 
 who is one outwardly; neither is that circumcision 
 which is outward in the flesh : but he is a Jew, who 
 is one inwardly; and circumcision is that of the 
 heart, in the spirit and not in the letter, whose praise 
 is not of men, but of God." The same doctrine is 
 inculcated, and if possible still more explicitly and 
 emphatically, in the two great commandments which 
 
260 THE HEAET MORE THAN THE HEAD. 
 
 sum up the whole of what is peculiar to Christian 
 duty. " Jesus said unto him, ' Thou shalt love the 
 Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy 
 soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and 
 great commandment. And the second is like unto 
 it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.' " 
 
 To this some may object, that the primary con- 
 ception of Christianity is that of a revelation^ a reve- 
 lation of truth; so that the great and all-important 
 act of accepting it must be an intellectual act ; not 
 something to be felt, but something to be under- 
 stood and believed ; something, in short, which the 
 head is to do, and not the heart. 
 
 The objection, as here stated, is certainly not with- 
 out force. If the Gospel were now set forth for 
 the first time as a new revelation, and we were 
 called upon to believe it, or not, according as the 
 evidence should strike our minds, it would perhaps 
 be true, that the first act in becoming a Christian, 
 or rather, in putting ourselves into a condition to 
 become a Christian, would be an intellectual act. 
 First of all, we should have to decide the question, 
 whether Jesus really was, what he claimed to be, 
 " a Teacher come from God ; " and this decision, 
 right or wrong, would be an act of the understand- 
 ing, — of the judgment, and not of the affections. 
 To a certain extent this was the state of things in 
 the primitive Church : the Gospel was preached to 
 
THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 261 
 
 Jews and pagans, who had to be convmced that 
 the old religions were false or imperfect, and that 
 the new religion was true, before they could be 
 said to be in a condition to become Christians. 
 Hence, I hardly need say, much of the stress which 
 the New Testament lays on knowing and believing', 
 and on distinguishing between the true and the 
 false, as the first things to be attended to. Even 
 under such circumstances, however, though the in- 
 tellectual act must be admitted to be the first act 
 in the order of time, it by no means follows that it 
 would be the principal act. Thousands and tens of 
 thousands have believed that " Jesus is the Christ," 
 without even so much as trying, or seriously in- 
 tending, to have his spirit, or walk in his steps ; 
 who were, therefore, " none of His." They have 
 not even so much as begun to be Christians : they 
 have only begun to believe in Christianity. " Yea, 
 a man may say. Thou hast faith, and I have works : 
 show me thy faith without thy works, and I will 
 show thee my faith by my works. Thou believest 
 that there is one God ; thou doest well : the devils 
 also believe, and tremble.^' 
 
 And, besides, I have been referring to a state of 
 things very different from that which prevails at pres- 
 ent in the Christian world. We are now born into 
 a community which is Christian, so far at least as 
 this, that the truth of Christianity is taken for granted 
 
262 THE HEART MORE THAN THE. HEAD. 
 
 in most of the forms and institutions of society, in 
 the current literature of the day, in the prayers and 
 catechisms which are taught in the nursery. The 
 consequence is, that we begin with believing. We 
 do not begin with doubting, or even with inquir- 
 ing; we begin with believing, and the multitude 
 never know what it is not to believe. They are not 
 called upon to choose their religion ; they do not 
 pass from a state of unbelief or misbelief into the 
 true belief; they take Christianity for granted from 
 the beginning. Though they may occasionally have 
 their difficulties about it, the multitude never think 
 of renouncing it as a fable. With respect to them, 
 therefore, not merely the principal, but the first and 
 sole change through which they pass in becoming 
 practical Christians, is a change from believing Chris- 
 tianity to be true to feeling it to be true, and acting 
 accordingly. In other words, it is a change, not of 
 the intellect, but of the aifections and life ; not of 
 the head, but, as the Scriptures continually teach, 
 of the heart. 
 
 But the objection may be made to assume another 
 form. It may be said, that the Christian life must 
 certainly have its peculiar principles, by which it 
 is distinguished as the Christian life ; and these prin- 
 ciples must be understood by the believer, in order 
 that he may act them out. A man is not a Christian, 
 not at least in a practical sense of that word, merely 
 
THE HEAET MORE THAN THE HEAD. 263 
 
 because he believes that Christianity is true, or merely 
 because he feels it to be all-important, necessary in- 
 deed to salvation ; but because he knows what it 
 teaches, and endeavors to live up to it, as nearly as 
 human infirmity will permit. Hence it would seem, 
 that we can have Christian affections only on the 
 conditions of first having a Christian understanding 
 or intellect. 
 
 Here, again, there is no occasion to urge extreme 
 views. I have not undertaken to prove that the 
 heart is everything, and the head nothing ; but only, 
 that the heart is more than the head. Accordingly, 
 in my reply to that form of the objection which is 
 now before us, it is not necessary, neither would it 
 be wise on general grounds, to undervalue the im- 
 portance of learning in its place, or of right opinions 
 in religion, or of a sound judgment in religious mat- 
 ters. Right religious views are of great moment, 
 and they are becoming more and more so in propor- 
 tion as the community is becoming more and more 
 generally educated. Nothing but right religious 
 views will be likely to satisfy such a community for 
 any length of time ; nothing else will bear the criti- 
 cism to which it will be exposed under such cir- 
 cumstances ; nothing else can be put in harmony 
 with the advanced state and free character of thought 
 on other subjects ; nothing else, when reduced to 
 practice, will become in all respects the practice 
 
264 THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 
 
 which Christianity requires. All this is freely con- 
 ceded ; nevertheless, even here, right religious views 
 are not the principal thing. Right religious views 
 of themselves do not make a man to be a Christian 
 in a practical sense of that word (that is, in the 
 only sense in which it is of much importance whether 
 a man is a Christian or not) , but right religious dis- 
 positions. E/ight religious views are not the end^ but 
 the means; right religious dispositions are the end, 
 and right religious views are only one of the prob- 
 able or possible means to that end. 
 
 I say, probable or possible means ; for, in the first 
 place, because right religious views may lead to right 
 religious dispositions, it does not follow that they 
 must^ or that they will in any particular case, or that 
 they generally do. It belongs to minds more san- 
 guine than wise to fancy that they have found at 
 last a doctrinal system, or theory of religion which, 
 if it were generally understood and adopted, would 
 regenerate the world. A little more experience and 
 observation would convince such persons, at least it 
 ought to convince them, that the conduct of man- 
 kind is determined much less by their theories than 
 by the customs of the society in which they live, by 
 sympathy with their neighbors and associates, and 
 by constitutional tendencies and prevailing tastes. 
 Even in the matter of health or worldly prosperity, 
 where we might naturally presume that selfishness 
 
THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 265 
 
 alone would lead every one to turn his knowledge 
 to immediate account, I do not believe that one man 
 in ten thousand takes that course which he, in the- 
 ory, is convinced is the wisest and best course. And 
 for this reason ; — it does not happen to be the com- 
 mon course, or an agreeable course. Because a man 
 believes a thing to be true or right or expedient, 
 it does not follow that he will like to do it, or that 
 he means to do it, or that he will do it. No doubt 
 something is gained to Christianity by disabusing 
 men of their ignorance and their prejudices in re- 
 spect to it, and setting the whole subject before them 
 in a true and strong light ; but not so much as the- 
 orists and dogmatists are apt to suppose. Where 
 the Bible is so generally read, and early religious 
 instruction is so generally attended to, as among us, 
 the great difficulty in the way of a Christian life is 
 not want of knowledge, but want of heart. Men 
 have their worldly and selfish nature, and their bad 
 passions ; and these they will continue to gratify, 
 though they know it to be wrong, and contrary to 
 God's word, until their hearts are changed. 
 
 Here and there an individual may be met with 
 who first forms a theory of what life should be, and 
 then lives it out. Under some circumstances, as in 
 the springing up of a new religion, or of a new sect, 
 instances of this sort are more frequent than under 
 others ; still they constitute the exceptions and not 
 
 12 
 
266 THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 
 
 the general rule. The general rule is, that men par- 
 ticipate in the sentiments and character of the com- 
 munity to which they belong ; and this, too, not so 
 much by instruction, as by imitation and sympathy, 
 through the heart, and not through the head. Speak- 
 ing generally, men do not live according to theory 
 or system of any kind, but according to example 
 and sympathy. In morals, a man does not begin by 
 forming a conception of what he ought to be, and 
 then set himself to work to turn that conception into 
 reality. He is won to virtue partly by virtuous 
 impulses awakened in his own nature, partly by his 
 worldly interests pointing the same way, and partly 
 by the example of the good men around him ; the fact 
 of his becoming virtuous not depending on his hav- 
 ing the right theory of virtue, or any theory. And 
 so in religion. As a general rule, a man becomes 
 religious, not from any theory of religion, true or 
 false; but partly from the religious instincts of his 
 nature, and partly from intercourse with religious 
 men, and the many impressive experiences of life, 
 all of which have the effect to awaken and call out 
 his religious instincts. Take away his religious in- 
 stincts, and all the teaching in the world would not 
 make him religious ; and even the peculiar form 
 under which his religious instincts manifest them- 
 selves will be determined, for the most part, not by 
 teaching, but by imitation and sympathy. 
 
THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 267 
 
 Do you ask again, How can a man be a Chris- 
 tian unless he acts from Christian principles ? and 
 how can he act from Christian principles, unless he 
 knows what Christian principles are ? I answer, that 
 whatever apparent force or pertinency these ques- 
 tions may have is wholly owing to a fallacy which 
 underlies them, and which, under another connec- 
 tion, has already been exposed in this discourse. 
 You would build an argument on an ambiguity 
 in the meaning of the term principle. The Chris- 
 tian principles which are necessary to Christian obe- 
 dience, are not theoretical principles, dogmas, articles 
 of creeds, but practical principles, Cliristian springs 
 of action; that is to say. Christian affections and 
 dispositions. When it is said, and said truly, that 
 a man cannot be a Christian without acting from 
 Christian principles, it is meant that he cannot be 
 a Christian without acting from Christian affections 
 and dispositions : but affections and dispositions are 
 not taught : they are awakened, unfolded, developed. 
 They do not depend on the state of the head, but 
 on the state of the heart. " With the heart man 
 belie vcth unto righteousness, and with the mouth 
 confession is made unto salvation." 
 
 This, then, is the conclusion, to which I am 
 brought. In everything pertaining to human great- 
 ness and human happiness, to moral and Christian 
 character and to final salvation, the heart is more 
 
268 THE HEART MORE THAN THE HEAD. 
 
 than the head. The heart is the principal thing. 
 Out of that, and out of that alone, " are the issues 
 of life." 
 
 To some, indeed, the doctrine here laid down may 
 be so obvious and incontestable, that my pains to 
 establish it will seem a waste of words. But with 
 the bulk of mankind it is not so. What young 
 man starts in life, believing, as he should, that his 
 success as well as his happiness will depend more 
 on the spirit which he brings to his work, than on 
 his genius, his ability, his industry, or his acquire- 
 ments ? And the popular notion of education — 
 does it not fall in with and confirm the common 
 mistake ? Talk about giving to a young man the 
 advantages of the best education, and the thoughts 
 immediately run on what is taught in schools and 
 colleges ; as if what is taught in schools and col- 
 leges were able, of itself, to make a man either 
 good or great or happy ? And what shall I say of 
 the Church ? For eighteen centuries its best energies 
 have been consumed, its best blood has been poured 
 out like water, in the vain hope of bringing about 
 a unity of Christian principles, meaning thereby a 
 unity of opinion and belief; which cannot be, and, 
 even if it could be, would only lead to evil. Mean- 
 while who has set a right value on " the hidden 
 man of the heart" ? who has remembered that "the 
 end of the commandment is charity out of a pure 
 heart"? 
 
THE HEAET MORE THAN THE HEAD. 269 
 
 The public mind is everywhere troubled by the 
 thought that neither civilization nor Christianity has 
 accomplished anything like the good which was 
 expected from it, and which it seemed to promise. 
 So it will continue to be until men learn that mere 
 refinement and intellectual culture, progress in sci- 
 ence and progress in the arts, are utterly incompetent 
 to exalt a people, or to make them capable of self- 
 government, or to convert them from nominal Chris- 
 tianity to real Christianity. Wliat is wanted, is the 
 education of the conscience ; and this, too, not on 
 the side of intelligence, but of sensibility, — "a new 
 heart and a new spirit." The text has said it: 
 " Keep thy heart with all diligence ; for out of it 
 are the issues of life." 
 
COMPROMISES. 
 
 I AM MADE ALL THINGS TO ALL MEN, THAT I MIGHT BY ALL 
 
 MEANS SAVE SOME. — 1 Corinthians ix. 22. 
 
 St. Paul speaks here of his readiness to make 
 concessions in order to conciliate. He is willing to 
 conform, as far as he innocently can, to prevailing 
 customs, institutions, and modes of thought, in the 
 hope of being able in this way to gain over more to 
 his views. In one word, he shows himself prepared 
 to give up something by way of compromise. 
 
 Taking the example of this apostle for my author- 
 ity and my point of departure, I propose to offer 
 a few suggestions on the morality of compromises. 
 
 My first remark is one in which all, I suppose, 
 will concur. As a general rule, compromises of 
 every description are to be regarded with distrust, 
 and rejected when they can be without serious loss 
 or inconvenience. Taken at the best they are of the 
 nature of sacrifices, as each party is supposed to 
 give up something which he considers of more or 
 less importance. And this is not all. A plan or 
 
COMPEOMISES. 271 
 
 policy which is the result of a compromise is not a 
 single plan or policy, but a mixture of plans, a mix- 
 ture of policies. Now it can hardly be expected of 
 such a medley, that it will have either unity or 
 consistency ; the several parts, instead of aiding and 
 sustaining each other, will be very likely to inter- 
 fere with and obstruct each other. Take any one 
 of the plans originally proposed, in its simplicity 
 and integrity, and you would probably have a good 
 plan on the principles assumed; but mix them to- 
 gether, and the chance is that you will have a plan 
 which is not a good one on any principles. Add 
 to this, what is of great moment in a practical view 
 of the matter, it will be a plan for the successful 
 working of which no one will feel himself to be per- 
 sonally responsible. After all, it will not be his plan, 
 though he adopts it for the sake of peace. 
 
 Accordingly, if a compromise is called for, the first 
 question which we should ask ourselves is, whether 
 the occasion for making it may not be avoided alto- 
 gether. K we conclude to act together, we must ex- 
 pect to be called upon to give up more or less to 
 each other ; for it is not to be presumed that several 
 persons will accord exactly in their tastes, their in- 
 terests, or their notions of right. But it is often a 
 matter of comparative indifference whether we act 
 together or not. Many of our associations are en- 
 tirely voluntary. A joint-stock company, a mercan- 
 
272 COMPEOMISES. 
 
 tile firm, a literary or scientific society, — it is en- 
 tirely optional with us whether we enter into such 
 an association or not ; or, if we belong to it already, 
 whether we continue in it or not. If we find, there- 
 fore, that we cannot enter into or retain such a con- 
 nection without being called upon to make important 
 sacrifices by way of compromise, it would be better 
 for us, as it seems to me, to decline the connection, 
 or to renounce it if already formed. If the associa- 
 tion involves the compromise, and if the association 
 is at the same time entirely voluntary, it would be 
 better for us, as it seems to me, certainly it would 
 be better for us as a general rule, to have nothing 
 to do with the association. 
 
 But all our associations are not voluntary^ in the 
 sense here intended. The family, for example, is not 
 a voluntary, but a necessary association ; and so like- 
 wise, in a certain sense and to a certain extent, is 
 the neighborhood, the church, the state. I do not 
 mean that a man is not at liberty to quit the neigh- 
 borhood in which he lives, the church to which he 
 belongs, and even the country in which he was born ; 
 nay, it is easy to conceive of a state of things in 
 which this would be not only a possible, but the only 
 proper course. Suppose this course taken, however, 
 and what would be the consequence. Simply that 
 he would live in another neighborhood, worship in 
 another church, be subject to another jurisdiction. 
 
COMPROMISES. 273 
 
 I say it must be so, because the only other alternative 
 would be absolute solitude; it would be to refuse 
 to worship with anybody, or to recognize any govern- 
 ment, or any one as his neighbor ; and this, mani- 
 festly, he has no right to do, because virtues and 
 duties are enjoined upon him, as a Christian and a 
 man, which can neither be acquired nor practised 
 except in society. We are not at liberty to run away 
 from society. A man has no more right to run away 
 from society, even if the thing were practicable or 
 easy, than to run away from his family. He has 
 virtues and duties to acquire and practise there which 
 are necessary to his own character and final accept- 
 ance. Every man must live in society; — I do not 
 say, in this or that society, but in some society. We 
 must live and act together ; and this being the case, 
 one of the first and most obvious of our duties is 
 the duty of mutual concession in the shape of com- 
 promise. 
 
 Concessions, then, we must make ; but what con- 
 cessions ? Neither you nor I can expect to have 
 everything in our own way. We must give up more 
 or less to others, in order that they may be disposed 
 to give up more or less to us. But what are we to 
 give up ? and how much are we to give up ? 
 
 Some may think it enough to refer to the exam- 
 ple of Paul as set forth in the text ; simply affirm- 
 mg that, whenever it is necessary to a benevolent 
 
 12* 
 
274 COMPROMISES. 
 
 or moral purpose, we should, like him, become " all 
 things to all men." But what did the Apostle mean 
 when he used these words ? when he spake of being 
 " made all things to all men " ? Certainly it will 
 not do to interpret this language to the letter. It 
 must not be so construed as to intimate that he was 
 ready to conform to the opinions and practices of the 
 world whatever they might be, or any further than 
 he innocently could. The question, therefore, re- 
 turns : How far can we carry the spirit of compro- 
 mise without trenching at the same time on the 
 laws of Christian truth and righteousness ? 
 
 To this question I reply, in the first place, by 
 observing that we are in no danger of trenching on 
 the laws of Christian truth and righteousness so 
 long as our compromises do not involve anything 
 more than the giving up of our own tastes, our 
 own convenience, our own innocent pleasures, our 
 own interests, even our own rights, out of regard 
 to others, and in the spirit of Christian concession 
 and self-sacrifice. Here, as it seems to me, there is 
 no room for doubt, or difference of opmion. Who- 
 ever is willing, on proper occasions and in a proper 
 spirit, to forego liis own tastes and pleasures, or 
 waive his own acknowledged rights and privileges, 
 for the sake of peace and for tlie public good, is 
 not only justified in so doing, but universally ap- 
 plauded. Even those who maintain that duty does 
 
COMPROMISES. 275 
 
 not require this at our hands, must mean, not that 
 it is less, but more, than duty requires. Indeed, 
 I do not see how it can be regarded as more than 
 our duty, if we are to pay any respect whatever 
 to the example of Paul, who was " made all things 
 to all men," who exhorts his disciples to abstain 
 from so asserting their acknowledged hberty as to 
 make it a stumbling-block to the weak, and who 
 generously exclaims, on one occasion, "If meat 
 make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh 
 while the world standeth, lest I make my brother 
 to offend." Above all, I do not see how it can be 
 regarded as more than our duty, if we would be 
 followers of Him, who, though he was rich, yet for 
 our sakes became poor, that we, through his poverty, 
 might be rich, and who gave his life a ransom 
 for all. 
 
 If by possibility any difference of opinion should 
 arise respecting the principles here laid down, it 
 must be as to our right to give up even our own 
 rights. To say that we have a right to give up 
 our rights, may sound to some like a contradiction ; 
 but it is a contradiction in sound, in appearance, 
 only. If a debt is due me, I have a right to imme- 
 diate payment; but most assuredly, at least in a 
 majority of cases, I have also a right to postpone 
 the payment, if I see fit, or to remit the debt alto- 
 gether. Indeed, not to give up our rights, is to 
 
276 COMPROMISES. 
 
 give up nothing ; for why talk about giving up 
 what we have no right to retain if we would ? 
 
 At the same time it is proper to add what has 
 doubtless done something to countenance, and per- 
 haps to introduce, the mistake just exposed. Our 
 right to give up our rights depends on their being 
 ours exclusively. We have no right to give up our 
 neighbors' rights without their consent, express or 
 implied. It may be right for them to give up the 
 rights in question, but it is not right for us to do 
 it for them, unless in their name, and with their 
 consent. Thus, a lawyer must insist on the rights 
 of his clients, and, unless otherwise instructed, on 
 all their rights, this being not merely his right, but 
 his duty, as their agent. It is not for him to give 
 up what belongs to others, though he might be dis- 
 posed, and though it might be very proper for him 
 to give it up if it were his own. Moreover, the 
 rights of others are often so involved and com- 
 plicated with ours, that to give up ours is to give 
 up, or seriously to compromise theirs. Here, again, 
 a good man will hesitate. A parent, for example, 
 might be willing to give up one or more of his 
 own rights, if he were sure that the loss would 
 fall on him alone ; but if, on the contrary, he knows « 
 that, directly or indirectly, it will fall on the whole 
 family, on all whom he represents, he will feel that 
 they also ought to have a voice in the matter. 
 
COMPROMISES. 277 
 
 Again, a right may be held in common, and require 
 to be maintained in common, and all therefore may 
 be in some sense pledged to its defence in common, 
 as in the case of civil or religious liberty. Here, 
 as before, no individual can honestly act as if he 
 alone were interested in the event. It is not only 
 the right, but the duty of all to stand by each 
 other, and this, too, though many, if left to act out 
 their individual preferences, would be willing, and 
 would choose to yield. I say, it is not only their 
 rig-Iit, but their dutp ; and the distinction here in- 
 dicated between a right and a duty is of great 
 moment in this connection ; for though it may be 
 true, as I have attempted to show, that it is right, 
 in some cases, to give up a rig'ht in order to con- 
 ciliate, or by way of compromise, for the good of 
 others, it by no means follows that it would be 
 right, in any such case, to give up a duty. 
 
 And this brings me to what may be called the 
 pinch of the question. Have we a right, under any 
 circumstances whatever, to go contrary to our duty 
 for the sake of peace, or to meet those we must 
 act with half-way, or on the plea that in a choice 
 of evils we should take the least, or in the hope 
 that in the end virtue and humanity will be gainers 
 by such a course ? In one word, for it comes to 
 this at last, have we a right, under any circum- 
 stances whatever, to ''do evil that good may come " ? 
 
278 COMPEOMISES. 
 
 Thus stated, it seems to me that the question an- 
 swers itself. We have no such right. The New- 
 Testament says emphatically of persons guilty of the 
 conduct here described, that their " damnation is 
 just." I can easily conceive that the circumstances 
 will have more or less to do in determining what 
 a man's duty is in the exigency in which he is 
 called to act. But supposing this point settled, as 
 is the case in the form of the question as stated 
 above, — supposing it to be determined what a 
 man's duty in the circumstances is, it is as clear as 
 day that he has no right to swerve one hair's 
 breadth from the direction in which that duty points, 
 come what may. 
 
 But we must not think that the annunciation of 
 a moral truism like this will go far to clear up the 
 great practical difficulty we are considering. The 
 question disappears in one form, it is true, but only 
 to come up in another. In a sharp collision of 
 opinions and interests, of rights and duties, of recip- 
 rocal benefits and mutual obligations, may not my 
 duty itself become changed ? In such an emergency, 
 and in order to meet and satisfy the new responsi- 
 bilities growing out of it, may it not be proper for 
 me to deviate from the ordinary rules of human con- 
 duct, on the ground, not that it is a deviation from 
 duty, but that duty requires the deviation ? May I 
 not in certain circumstances become a party to a 
 
COMPROMISES. 279 
 
 compromise, even as regards great moral issues, on 
 the ground, not that the compromise will justify 
 me in giving up my duty, but that duty calls upon 
 me to make the compromise ? 
 
 Let me suppose a case. A community, bound to- 
 gether by a multitude of reciprocal affections, inter- 
 ests, and obligations, fall into irreconcilable difference 
 respecting a single question, and that a moral one. 
 What are they to do ? 
 
 Some may think to cut the matter short by insist- 
 ing that the party which is right ought not to give 
 up, ought not to meet the other half-way, ought not 
 to make the smallest concessions. And this is true, 
 supposing it to be known and conceded which party 
 is right ; but unhappily this is not a conceded point ; 
 it is the very point in dispute. The question is not, 
 what the party shall do which is right, but what the 
 party shall do which thinks itself right. And if you 
 still answer, " Not concede one jot nor tittle," then 
 you have no ground of complaint against your op- 
 ponents for not conceding one jot nor tittle to you, 
 for they also think themselves right. If it should 
 be objected that this is assuming too much ; that we 
 have no right to take it for granted that both parties 
 are equally sincere in their pretensions, I reply : Per- 
 haps not. But which party are you going to set 
 down as insincere, or as less sincere. If, as usually 
 happens, both parties claim to be right, and give the 
 
280 COMPROMISES. 
 
 same evidence of sincerity, is it not plain that we 
 must regard both as sincere, or neither ? 
 
 Still there are those who will recur to the argu- 
 ment that our duty is determined by what we think, 
 and not by what others think, and therefore that, 
 in a moral view, there is no substantial distinction 
 between what we think to be our duty and what is 
 our duty. What we think to be our duty is duty 
 for us ; what we think to be the right course is the 
 right course for us. 
 
 But here, again, the conclusion is broader, or, at 
 any rate, more unqualified, than the premises will 
 warrant. I do not deny that mistake extenuates, 
 and sometimes, perhaps, excuses wrong-doing ; but 
 it does this only on one condition ; namely, that we 
 have not wilfully shut our eyes on important and ob- 
 vious facts in the case. Now in the case under consid- 
 eration two of the most important and most obvious 
 facts are these : first, that we ourselves are fallible ; 
 and, secondly, that others, no more fallible than we 
 are, have come to a different conclusion. So far 
 all must be agreed. If, therefore, we persist in shut- 
 ting our eyes on these important and obvious and 
 admitted facts, that is to say, pay no regard to the 
 judgment and the consciences of others, but proceed 
 to act on our own as if we were infallible, when we 
 know we are not, the mistake, if we fall into one, 
 does not make wrong to be right even for us ; nay, 
 
COMPEOMISES. 281 
 
 is no excuse for the wrong. It is not mistake, prop- 
 erly so called, but obstinacy ; and whatever may be 
 said of mistake, all, I presume, will agree that obsti- 
 nacy is no excuse for moral delinquency of any kind. 
 
 Another ground sometimes taken is, that where 
 two parties are at variance, only one can be right; 
 and consequently that a compromise supposes a de- 
 parture from the right course on one side or the other. 
 This, however, does not follow. I admit that where 
 two parties are at variance, both cannot be right ; 
 but it does not follow that either is so, that is, wholly 
 right. Both parties cannot be right, but both parties 
 may be wrong ; at least more or less so. Indeed, 
 where the question at issue is a large and compli- 
 cated one, having a multitude of connections and 
 bearings, as is commonly the case in civil and relig- 
 ious dissensions, it is much more reasonable to sup- 
 pose that each party is partly right and partly wrong. 
 And if so, it would seem that each party has some- 
 thing of wrong to give up, and the compromise that 
 should consist of mutual concessions of this sort 
 would evidently result, not in a departure from 
 right on either side, but in an approximation to right 
 on both sides. 
 
 I have now glanced at some of the abstract and 
 speculative objections to all moral compromises, as 
 such. Others are disposed to take a more practical 
 view of the subject. They will tell you that party 
 
282 COMPROMISES. 
 
 dijBferences are not to be settled by compromise, but 
 by vote. The party which can command the largest 
 number of votes has a right to have its own way in 
 everything, on the ground that the majority have a 
 right to govern. On this ground, some would seem 
 to argue that the majority have a right to impose 
 on the whole country their peculiar system not only 
 of political expediency, but of political morals, to 
 which the minority must submit as they best can. 
 
 But is not this the essence of tyranny, and not the 
 less so because it is in the hands of many, and not 
 of one or a few ? What signifies it to the oppressed 
 minority, the oppression being the same, that the 
 name of the oppressor is Legion ? Not that I mean 
 to call in question the doctrine that the majority 
 have a right to govern, — that is, to govern justly. 
 But to govern justly the majority must consider the 
 just claims of the minority, and, above all, those 
 claims which are founded on a difference of moral 
 conviction, and make concessions to them ; as is 
 actually done by our own and other governments in 
 the case of the Quakers. Yet these concessions are 
 of the nature of a compromise. Accordingly the 
 right of the majority to govern does not exclude the 
 necessity of compromise. The utmost extent of that 
 right consists in the right to fix for the time being 
 the terms of the compromise ; and this they have no 
 right to do capriciously, or with a single view to 
 
COMPROMISES. 283 
 
 their own party maxims and preferences, but as they 
 honestly think an impartial umpire would approve, 
 in view of all the circumstances. If you say that 
 nothing is due to the dissenting consciences of the 
 minority, you have no right to find fault with the 
 Spanish Inquisition. Often, also, the practical ques- 
 tion is, not what either party would have things be 
 as a finality, or if they were to begin anew, but what, 
 on the whole, ought to be done " in the present 
 distress." 
 
 The consideration in this connection which prob- 
 ably has the greatest weight with tender consciences 
 is, that by compromising with what we think to be 
 evil, we make ourselves, to a certain extent, parties 
 to it. What we insist upon doing, at any rate, is 
 simply to wash our own hands from all respon- 
 sibility in the matter. But is this all that is re- 
 quired ? Our responsibility does not consist in free- 
 ing ourselves from the responsibility, but in fulfilling 
 the responsibility by adopting such measures as we 
 honestly believe will be most likely to abate the 
 evil, and in the right way. A mere solicitude to 
 save ourselves from responsibility would indicate but 
 too clearly, that the motive which in fact deter- 
 mines us is not the philanthropy of which we boast, 
 nor yet the justice to which we appeal, but a selfish 
 desire to escape suffering in our own persons, here 
 or hereafter. When men talk about " washing their 
 
284 COMPROMISES. 
 
 hands" from all participation in a supposed wrong, 
 without doing anything, or attempting to do anything, 
 to remove or remedy or lessen the wrong, it always 
 reminds me of Pilate's conduct at the trial of Jesus. 
 
 I have spoken of compromises in general; not of 
 any particular compromise. I have endeavored to 
 treat the question dispassionately as a purely abstract 
 one, coming up in the study of Christian ethics. I 
 am aware that there is often less difficulty in lay- 
 ing down general principles than in applying them 
 with the limitations and qualifications which the 
 circumstances of the case require. Still something 
 is gained by clearly apprehending the principles, — 
 the applications must he left to the occasion as it 
 arises ; and let me add, that a right application of 
 the principles in the most perplexing circumstances 
 will mainly depend, not on a morbid sensitiveness 
 to the question at issue, nor yet on casuistical 
 subtlety, but on downright honesty of purpose, a 
 sound understanding, and a truly generous and 
 magnanimous spirit. It is easy to conceive of com- 
 promises from which we should turn away, as from 
 a compact with the Evil One. Nevertheless, with- 
 out a spirit of mutual concession in constant exer- 
 cise it is plain that no family, no neighborhood, 
 no community, can subsist for a single day in 
 tolerable comfort and quiet. 
 
 Undoubtedly there is danger that our compro- 
 
COMPROMISES. 285 
 
 mises will lose all moral significance by originating 
 in low, selfish, and worldly inducements. Undoubt- 
 edly there is danger that we may be ready to con- 
 cede truth and justice and humanity, in order to 
 save our interests and our pleasures ; on the ground 
 that truth and justice and humanity are mere senti- 
 ments, mere prejudices, while interest and pleasure 
 are real and substantial things. Undoubtedly there 
 is danger that, while we talk about exercising 
 mutual forbearance, and becoming " all things to 
 all men," as the Gospel requires, we may all the 
 time be acting from motives which the Gospel dis- 
 owns and condemns. The existence and prevalence 
 among us of compromises of this description would 
 be one of the most alarming symptoms of national 
 decay and ruin : which may God avert ! At the 
 same time, the spirit of compromise^ righteously car- 
 ried out, as it gave birth to our Union, is absolutely 
 indispensable to its continuance. Let not the eye 
 say unto the hand, " I have no need of thee ; " nor 
 again, the head to the feet, " I have no need of 
 you ; " but let the whole body, fitly joined together, 
 and compacted by that which every joint supplieth, 
 according to efiectual working in the measure of 
 every part, make increase of the body unto the 
 edification of the whole in love. 
 
CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS IN LIFE.* 
 
 I RETURNED, AND SAW UNDER THE SUN THAT THE RACE IS NOT 
 TO THE SWIFT, NOR THE BATTLE TO THE STRONG, NEITHER YET 
 BREAD TO THE WISE, NOR YET RICHES TO MEN OF UNDERSTAND- 
 ING, NOR YET FAVOR TO MEN OF SKILL; BUT TIME AND CHANCE 
 HAPPENETH TO THEM ALL. — EcclesiasteS ix. 11. 
 
 This is one of those gloomy and despondent views 
 of human life in which Ecclesiastes abounds. At 
 first sight it would seem to inculcate the extreme 
 doctrine, that success is wholly dependent on circum- 
 stances, and even on accidental circumstances, and 
 not at all on ourselves. Thus understood, I need 
 not say, it shocks our sense of justice, and contradicts 
 our general experience. Moreover, we feel that if 
 received in this sense, especially by those just entering 
 into life, its only effect must be to discourage effort, 
 to lower nien's aims, and to subvert the foundations 
 of a just self-reliance. What the writer meant to 
 inculcate was probably this : as it is not for man to 
 
 * It is customary to deliver a Farewell Discourse in the College 
 Chapel to the Senior Class, on the Sunday before they leave. This 
 and the two following sermons were preached on those occasions. 
 
CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 287 
 
 read the future, or direct his steps, he must be con- 
 tent with doing as well as he can, and leave the rest 
 to that Providence which shapes and determines all 
 events. 
 
 Understand the text, however, as we may, it very 
 naturally introduces the question how far a man's 
 success in life, including his character as well as 
 his outward condition, is to be regarded as Ms own 
 work ? 
 
 This is not a subject on which to advance hasty 
 or extreme opinions. I am willing to start with the 
 concession, that there is a large pre-ordained element 
 in the life of every individual, and a still larger one 
 in the life of every community. It certainly does not 
 depend on the man himself in what place or condi- 
 tion he is horn, — whether in savage or civiUzed life, 
 whether in a Christian or pagan country, whether 
 in the midst of abundance, or in the midst of want, 
 whether in a virtuous and happy home, or in the 
 haunts of vice ; and we must be beside ourselves not 
 to see that these things have much to do in making 
 a man what he becomes. Everybody ascribes a great 
 deal, and the older we grow I believe we generally 
 ascribe more and more, to differences of race, to hered- 
 itary or constitutional aptitudes and tendencies, to the 
 power of education, example, custom, and even to 
 what the world calls good or bad fortune. So Lord 
 Bacon: "I did ever hold it for an insolent and 
 
288 CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 
 
 unlucky saying, * Every man maketh his own for- 
 tune,' except it be uttered only as an hortative or 
 spur to correct sloth. For otherwise, if it be believed 
 as it soundeth, and that a man entereth into an high 
 imagination, that he can compass and fatliom all ac- 
 cidents, and ascribeth all successes to his drifts and 
 reaches, and the contrary to his errors and slippings, 
 it is commonly seen that the evening fortune of that 
 man is not so prosperous, as of him that, without 
 slackening of his industry, attributeth much to felicity 
 and providence above him." * 
 
 Many are tempted to go further. " We talk," tliey 
 will say, " about what we are going to do, or be ; after 
 all, however, it does not depend on ourselves. We are, 
 to a great extent at least, the creatures of circum- 
 stances, — predetermined, inexorable. The key-note 
 to almost every man's life is pitched, long before he 
 can properly be said to have had anything to do with 
 it. We do not make ourselves, we find ourselves : 
 we have to take ourselves as we are, and make the 
 best of it. We think it of great moment to be Chris- 
 tians ; but if a man is born in Constantinople, or 
 Pekin, or Timbuctoo, what likelihood, we had almost 
 said what possibility, is there that he will become 
 one ? Take the inmates of a penitentiary, — if you 
 
 * A Discourse touching Helps for the Intellectual Powers. Works 
 (Montagu's Ed.), Vol. I. p. 339. 
 
CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 289 
 
 could know all their antecedents, you would not 
 wonder, in respect to many of them, that they are 
 there. You may say, that a strong will sometimes 
 triumphs over the most formidable obstacles of educa- 
 tion and physical condition. And so it does ; but 
 what is a man to do, who is so unfortunate as not 
 to have a strong will ? we do not deny that the mind 
 has great influence over the body ; we only say, in re- 
 ply, that the body has great influence over the mind, 
 and that the influence begins on this side. A single 
 drop of blood in the wrong place makes all the difler- 
 ence between a philosopher and a maniac." 
 
 But enough of this. Very little practical wisdom 
 is ever gathered from the consideration of supposed 
 and extreme cases. It is not because the state- 
 ments themselves are untrue, but because they are 
 inapplicable, at least in an unqualified form, to our 
 own condition and prospects, or to what may be 
 termed the average of human life. A larger survey 
 and juster appreciation of things will convince us 
 that there is nothing in " the doctrine of circum- 
 stances," rightly understood, to discourage effort or 
 destroy a proper degree of self-reliance, especially 
 where this self-reliance recognizes a Divine support, 
 holding that, in some mysterious way, it is " God 
 which worketh in us both^to will and to do." 
 
 For, in the first place, if you say, it is the cir- 
 cumstances which make the man, you must also ad- 
 
 13 s 
 
290 CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 
 
 mit at the same time, that it is the man who often 
 makes, and can always modify, the circumstances. 
 There would seem to be no room for a real differ- 
 ence of opinion here. All agree that some of the 
 circumstances materially affecting our condition and 
 progress are determined for us, and not by us. It 
 is so, for example, as regards the place of our 
 birth, the form of society, government, or religion 
 under which we are brought up, whether we are 
 born with a strong and healthy constitution, or 
 with a feeble and sickly one, what are our natural 
 abilities, and what our natural temperament. Even 
 in regard to such circumstances, however, it would 
 be idle to pretend that we cannot alter or modify 
 them in any manner or degree. In point of fact 
 men are doing this very thing every day, and every 
 hour. Look where you will, and you cannot help 
 seeing that the bulk of mankind are doing more or 
 less to improve their natural advantages, and to 
 correct or guard against their natural disadvantages, 
 and with more or less success. 
 
 These remarks apply especially to those circum- 
 stances which have most to do in making the differ- 
 ences existing between individuals belonging to the 
 same class, living under the same laws, professing 
 the same creed, and sharing in the same measure 
 of general civilization. And this, let me say in 
 passing, is the only aspect of the subject under 
 
CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 291 
 
 which it is of much practical moment to you or 
 me. With us the question is not, whether we 
 shall be civilized men, or savages, for that point is 
 already settled, — we are civilized men, — but what 
 sort of civilized men we shall be. So likewise as 
 regards religion, the great question, with us at least, 
 is not, whether we shall be Christians or Moham- 
 medans, for that again is a settled point : we are 
 Christians, at least ill the sense of belonging to 
 Christendom ; the only question still at issue being, 
 what sort of Christians we shall become. Granting, 
 therefore, that we are Christians and not Mohamme- 
 dans merely because we were born and brought up 
 in a Christian country, how happens it, I still ask, 
 that one is a better and happier Christian than an- 
 other ? Is it not, in great measure, because he 
 takes more pains to inform his mind, to subdue his 
 passions, to regulate his habits ? because he selects 
 better companions and chooses to follow better coun- 
 sels ? because he takes care to surround himself 
 with better means, and seeks out better opportu- 
 nities, of self-improvement, and a better field of labor 
 and usefulness ? 
 
 I know how slow men are to give up their the- 
 ories. Probably many will still insist that the whole 
 is nevertheless resolvable into the efiect of circum- 
 stances. If a man is any better or happier than 
 the multitude immediately around him, it must be 
 
292 CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 
 
 because, though his general circumstances have been 
 the same with theirs, he has somehow or other 
 come under the influence of better special circum- 
 stances. Be it so. I only ask you to consider to 
 how great an extent these better special circum- 
 stances are of his own choosing, of his own mould- 
 ing, and often of his own creating. The general 
 circumstances determining the class or order to 
 which we shall belong may, and often do, originate 
 in what others have done for us ; but the special 
 circumstances, determining our relative character 
 and condition as individuals of that class or order, 
 are almost always our own work. For instance, 
 that we belong to the educated class is probably 
 owing, in a majority of cases, to our parents ; but 
 whether we, as individuals, are to be a credit or a 
 disgrace to that class, is left to depend almost 
 wholly on ourselves. 
 
 There is also another train of thought, which, if 
 followed out, leads to the same general conclusion. 
 The influence of circumstances, however important 
 and indispensable must not be regarded as annihi- 
 lating, nor even as necessarily limiting or abridging, 
 human power. On the contrary, this very influence 
 is continually resorted to as an instrument of hu- 
 man power, and used as a means of extending it. 
 True, a portion of our circumstances are pre-deter- 
 mined, imposed, inevitable ; but it is also true that 
 
CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 293 
 
 another portion of them are variable, subject more 
 or less to our control, to be shaped, rearranged, and 
 directed as we see fit. In this way we can, if we 
 see fit, take one set of circumstances and play them 
 ofi* against another, so as to neutralize, or essentially 
 to modify, the effects even of those circumstances 
 which can neither be prevented nor altered in them- 
 selves. To say that we can do this is not enough ; 
 we are doing it continually. Every time the agri- 
 culturist changes his mode of tillage, every time the 
 physician sits down to write a prescription, every 
 time the statesman proposes the enactment of a 
 new law, every time the philanthropist founds a 
 new institution of mercy or beneficence, — what is 
 it but playing off one set of circumstances against 
 another, that the whole may be brought under hu- 
 man control? Wliat, indeed, is civilization itself 
 but the result of a succession of triumphs effected 
 by such means, — triumphs of mind over matter, 
 of man over nature ! The best interests of a savage 
 tribe, and sometimes its very existence, are put in 
 jeopardy by the ill success of a single hunting party, 
 by the accidental failure of a single natural produc- 
 tion, by the unwonted rigor of a single winter, — 
 contingencies which it has neither the skill to foresee 
 nor the means to provide against. But in civilized 
 communities it is not so. Every step in science 
 and the arts, every step in education and civil 
 
294 CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 
 
 government, is a step in the direction of rescuing 
 life and society from the dominion of nature and 
 chance, and bringing the whole under human calcu- 
 lation and control, and this, too, by making a wise 
 use of circumstances. 
 
 It would do something to save theorists from con- 
 fusion and mistake in speaking of the power of cir- 
 cumstances, if they would only bear in mind how 
 much is included under that familiar term. If you 
 say that man is the creature of circumstances, it must 
 be with the understanding, that the greatest and most 
 effective of these circumstances is the man himself. 
 And by the man himself I here mean not merely 
 his physical constitution, including his brain and 
 nervous temperament, and his innate aptitudes and 
 predispositions, but also the habits he has contracted, 
 the acquisitions he has made, even his humors and 
 caprices, — in short, whatever he is, or has become, 
 at any given moment. This, I hardly need say, is 
 one of the circumstances, under the influence of 
 which he is called to act, and beyond all question 
 the greatest and most effective of them all in its 
 bearings on his present conduct and his future pros- 
 pects. Now will any one seriously pretend that men 
 have nothing to do in determining what their habits 
 and acquisitions and tempers shall be ? Is there no 
 such thing as self-culture ? If not, why are we here ? 
 Why this vast, complicated, and expensive apparatus 
 
CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 295 
 
 of churches and schools and colleges, of libraries, 
 museums, and laboratories ? And do not think that 
 in thus referring to the means of education I have for- 
 gotten my argument, which is to show, not what can 
 be done /or men, but what men can do /or themselves. 
 It is a superficial view of things which leads to the 
 distinction between education and self-education. In 
 point of fact, all education is self-education, the only 
 difference being, that education in churches and 
 schools and colleges, and amidst libraries, museums, 
 and laboratories, is self-education under the best ad- 
 vantages. 
 
 In making so much to depend on ourselves, not- 
 withstanding the important part which accident and 
 external necessity play in human life, I trust I shall 
 not be suspected of meaning to involve myself or 
 you in the perplexities of the old metaphysical puzzle 
 about free-agency, the liberty of indifference and abso- 
 lute self-determination. Let those who have nothing 
 better to do continue to sharpen their speculative 
 faculties on that insoluble problem ; my aim in this 
 discourse is wholly practical. No sensible person de- 
 nies or questions the power of circumstances. It is 
 not pretended that you or I can do substantial and 
 lasting good to ourselves or others, simply by willing' 
 it, or by merely saying the word. Change of char- 
 acter is a vital process ; we have grown into our 
 present set of habits, and in order to change them, 
 
296 CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 
 
 we must grow into another set of habits, and growth 
 is not an act of the will; — it is the slow result of 
 influences, as well from without as from within. We 
 must avail ourselves of the proper occasions, instru- 
 mentalities, circumstances. To argue, however, that 
 what we do by such means we cannot be said to 
 do at all, because we do it through them, is a mere 
 abuse of language, an affront to the practical under- 
 standing of mankind. 
 
 The doctrine of circumstances here laid down ex- 
 tends, with some obvious qualifications, to heavenly 
 things and the spiritual life. That we have the means 
 of " the great salvation " is wholly owing to the 
 Divine condescension and mercy, and not to any 
 merits or any exertions on our own part ; but we do 
 have them. They are not to be given ; they have been 
 given. The Scriptures, the Church, the sacraments, 
 faith, prayer, the example of holy men, doing good 
 in the name of Christ, — these are the acts and influ- 
 ences by which men are trained for heaven. And 
 they are open to all. They are not forced on this 
 one or that one, on you or me, but they are open to 
 all. Who will say, that it does not depend on him- 
 self whether he avails himself of them or not, and 
 in what spirit he avails himself of them, and there- 
 fore to what effect ? I am recommending no way 
 of salvation but that which the Gospel points out: 
 "And the Spirit and the Bride say. Come. And 
 
CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 297 
 
 let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that 
 is athirst come : wh(?<soever will, let him take of 
 the water of life freely." 
 
 " Whosoever will " ! In what better terms could 
 the Gospel confirm and sanction every word that has 
 here been spoken ? Let us not go about to imagine 
 cases of moral and spiritual destitution and despair. 
 There may be such cases, but it is not so with us. 
 We must also make a distinction between worldly 
 success and acceptance with God. Wliether you are 
 to be rich or poor depends on others, as well as you ; 
 but if rich, whether you are to be a good rich man, 
 or a bad rich man, and if poor, whether you are to 
 be a good poor man, or a bad poor man, depends, 
 under God, on yourself alone. Even with each 
 one of us, I do not mean to deny that there is still 
 a fearful uncertainty as to what he is to be in the 
 sight of God ; but I insist that this uncertainty does 
 not come in between the will and the act, between 
 the will and the success : it lies behind the will. 
 The uncertainty consists in this, whether we shall 
 will, and persevere in that will, or not. Where there 
 is a will, there is a way. 
 
 Away, then, with that fatalism which makes man 
 the creature and sport of circumstances he has had 
 no voice nor influence in determining. Never for 
 a moment believe that we are in the hands and at 
 the mercy of the blind forces of nature. It is not 
 
 13* 
 
298 CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 
 
 religion, it is atheism, which makes nature every- 
 thing, and man nothing. " And the Lord God formed 
 man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into 
 his nostrils the breath of life ; and man became a liv- 
 ing' souL''^ That "living soul" is not a product of 
 nature, nor yet one of the many forces of nature : 
 it is a force distinct from nature, confronting nature 
 face to face, and often in direct conflict and struggle 
 with nature. In this conflict and struggle the secret 
 of the soul's strength consists in believing, in feeling, 
 that its strength is not from nature, but from itself 
 and from God. "Where this faith, this feeling, is in- 
 tense, even error and sin cannot cripple the soul's 
 invincible energy ; their only effect will be, as in the 
 case of the conquerors and scourges of mankind, to 
 convert what would otherwise have been a Divine 
 into a Satanic power, — terrible even in its apostasy 
 and perversion. The body, as it is formed " of the 
 dust of the ground," belongs to nature, and is sub- 
 ject to the laws of nature, acting as it is acted on ; 
 but the soul, the inspiration of the Almighty, vindi- 
 cates its relationship to a higher order of existences 
 by being essentially self-active and free. Self-activ- 
 ity and freedom, however, are no protection against 
 abuse and ruin. To be able to look forward into a 
 dark and untried future without presumption and 
 without fear, we must feel and know that "greater 
 is He that is in us, than he that is in the world ; " — • 
 
CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 299 
 
 without presumption, because always ready to ex- 
 claim, with the Apostle, " Yet not I, but the grace of 
 God which was with me ; " and without fear, because 
 always prepared to take up the testimony of the same 
 Apostle, " Not that I speak in respect to want ; for 
 I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith 
 to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I 
 know how to abound ; everywhere, and in all things 
 I am instructed, both to be full and to be hungry, 
 both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all 
 things through Christ which strengtheneth me." 
 
 Though my subject is a general one, it is directly 
 and specially applicable to those who, having com- 
 pleted their College course, are now full of the 
 thought as to what their future condition shall be. 
 Life is before them. Is that life a lottery, a game 
 of chance ? Is it something which they are to accept 
 or submit to as a fatality. Or is it something which 
 they are to achieve ? My young friends, it is nei- 
 ther one nor the other exclusively ; it is all three, 
 strangely blended together. 
 
 It is to no purpose to shut your eyes on the un- 
 certamty and vicissitude which are impressed on all 
 earthly things. How many have won the highest 
 university distinctions, like Kirke White, merely to 
 die ? How many, after graduating with the fairest 
 promise, have lived merely to disappoint it, and this, 
 too, without any fault of their own, but through the 
 
800 CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 
 
 fault of others, or some infelicity of manner, or tem- 
 per, or intellect, which did not interfere with their 
 success here, but was fatal to it in the world ? It is 
 certain that " the race is not always to the swift, 
 nor the battle to the strong, neither yet riches to 
 men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill, 
 but time and chance happeneth to them all." I do 
 not say this to damp a generous enthusiasm, or to 
 dispel, if I could, tlie dreams of life in which the 
 young are apt to indulge. I honor, I revere those 
 dreams, as often leading to their own fulfilment, nay, 
 as coming much nearer to the truth of what life ought 
 to be, and might be, than the vulgar experience. 
 But this I say : I would not give much for a young 
 man's chance of eminence whose pillow is never wet 
 with tears at the thought of the difficulties to be 
 overcome. And besides, to minds of the highest 
 order, there is a strange fascination in the prospect 
 of hardship and difficulty ; they like life the better 
 for its struggles and its perils. 
 
 My friends, whether you look to public or private 
 life, my last words to you shall be words of encour- 
 agement and benediction. The final cause of the 
 chances and changes of this mortal life is to evoke 
 and strengthen that principle in your nature, which 
 is superior to them all. Take counsel of your humil- 
 ity ; take counsel of your caution ; but never take 
 counsel of your fears. More than half of the ob- 
 
CONDITIONS OF SUCCESS. 301 
 
 stacles in your path are like a rotten stump in the 
 woods, which a timid man takes for a ghost, and 
 runs away. A brave man walks up to it, and finds 
 it to be what it is. Never be appalled and unmanned 
 by what is said about risks, and difiiculties and com- 
 petitions. Never retreat into a narrow and obscure 
 walk, with its only one chance of success and useful- 
 ness, as if it were the safer for that. Push forward, if 
 you have the common consciousness of ability, into 
 the great thoroughfares, where, though a hundred 
 chances of success and usefulness should fail, a hun- 
 dred chances are left. And take with you our best 
 wishes and our best prayers that you may succeed 
 in the best things. I will not commend you to the 
 favor of the world, or to the promise of your own 
 genius and activity, for all these may prove vain ; but 
 " I commend you to God, and the word of his grace," 
 who alone " is able to keep you from falling, and to 
 present you faultless before the presence of his glory 
 with exceeding joy." 
 
ON THE CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 
 
 LET EVERT MAN ABIDE IN THE SAME CALLING WHEREIN HE WAS 
 
 CALLED. — 1 Corinthians vii. 20. 
 
 In seasons of unusual religious excitement and 
 earnestness men are tempted to regard all political 
 and social distinctions, and all ordinary secular em- 
 ployments, as abolished or suspended. So it was in 
 some parts of Germany at the breaking out of the 
 Protestant Reformation. So it was in the Corinthian 
 Church at the first planting of Christianity. The 
 Apostolic injunction addressed to that church, and 
 recorded in the text, may be considered as directed 
 generally and in principle against a twofold form 
 of error especially prevalent at such times. 
 
 In the first place, it is directed against the error 
 of making religion a business or profession hy itself^ 
 leaving us no time or thought for anything else. 
 Of course, I do not mean that anything whatever 
 should be allowed to come into competition with 
 religion ; or that there is any extravagance in the 
 doctrine which teaches that religion is everything 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 303 
 
 or nothing. Still its genius and office are entirely 
 misapprehended, if we suppose it requires us to de- 
 sert our post in society ; if we fancy it expects us, 
 or calls upon us, to withdraw from the world, and 
 give ourselves wholly up to ascetic practices and 
 devout contemplation. No such thing. Religion is 
 the sovereign rule of life ; its spirit should pervade 
 and transfigure the whole of life, even its humblest 
 offices ; but it was never intended to be a life by 
 itself, or something patched upon life. If you ask, 
 Who is the best Christian ? I answer : Not he who 
 makes the loudest professions of Christianity, nor 
 he who gives the most time to thinking about it, 
 nor yet he who best understands its principles ; but 
 he who best succeeds in applying these principles 
 to his daily cares and duties, and in filling his 
 place in society, whatever it may be, in a Christ-^ 
 like spirit. 
 
 Again, the injunction in the text is directed gen- 
 erally, and in principle, against the kindred error 
 of supposing, that there are many lawful callings 
 or professions, in which it is impossible to lead a 
 Christian life. More difficult it may be, but not 
 impossible, the difficulty only enhancing the virtue 
 which has strength and resolution enough to over- 
 come it. The military profession, a life in camps, 
 is not likely to be recommended as particularly 
 favorable to moral and religious culture ; yet this 
 
304 • CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 
 
 profession has contributed not a few illustrious ex 
 amples, not only of patriotism, but also of in- 
 tegrity and honor, and even of reverence for religion, 
 and of a Christian detestation of war, except as a dire 
 necessity of nations. On the other hand, the clerical 
 profession, to those who are fit for it, is generally 
 thought, in a moral and religious point of view, 
 to promise best of all ; because the special business 
 and object of the calling coincide so entirely with 
 what ought to be the highest business and object 
 of us all. But here also there is difficulty and 
 drawback, showing that the difference in the eligi- 
 bility of the various professions on moral grounds 
 is not so great as is often supposed. Where the 
 profession is religious, the danger is that the relig- 
 ion will become professional. Undoubtedly it is our 
 duty to feel and express devout emotions ; but the 
 trouble with the clergyman is, that he is sometimes 
 called upon to express devout emotions whether he 
 feels them or not. Hence his danger of allowing 
 his very earnestness to become mechanical ; of sacri- 
 ficing the life and freshness, and sometimes even 
 the entire sincerity, of his religious experiences to 
 professional repetition and routine. Then, too, look- 
 ing merely at the effect of his labors, I believe it 
 is often possible for a layman to do more for relig- 
 ion than a clergyman, from the very fact that he 
 cannot be suspected of a professional bias or bribe. 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 305 
 
 We arrive, then, at the conclusion that all the 
 great professions are open to choice, and that there 
 is nothing in any one of them, in itself considered, 
 to hinder a good man in certain cases from choosing 
 it. But it by no means follows that all professions 
 are equally eligible in themselves ; much less, that 
 all are equally eligible to every person, and under 
 all circumstances. All are open to choice ; but this 
 does not exclude occasion for choice, or necessity 
 for choice, or the duty of making a wise choice, 
 as being that on which, more perhaps than on any 
 other one thing, a man's usefulness and happiness 
 will depend. Every day is adding to the impor- 
 tance of this step, by multiplying the number of 
 the professions ; by making it more and more in- 
 dispensable that each individual should confine him- 
 self to a single profession ; and also on account of 
 the essential changes which some of the professions 
 have undergone. For these reasons many of the 
 old commonplaces no longer apply, making it neces- 
 sary that every young man, on reaching the period 
 when the choice can no longer be deferred, should 
 give his own thoughts to the subject in view of the 
 new demands of learning, society, and the times, as 
 well as of his own capabilities and peculiar aptitudes. 
 
 Accordingly, I can think of no subject more 
 proper, or more likely, to engage your attention at 
 this time, than the principles and considerations 
 
306 CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 
 
 which should influence and determine young men 
 in the choice of a profession at the present day. A 
 considerahle portion of our society will not worship 
 with us again : they have completed their general 
 education, and must now make up their minds, if 
 they have not made them up already, as to their 
 special calling in life. Even in the case of those 
 who have made up their minds definitively as to 
 what they are to do, being determined perhaps for 
 the most part by prudential considerations, or by 
 personal preference, or by natural bias, it will still 
 be well that the whole subject should be recon- 
 sidered under its moral and religious aspects. 
 
 Let me begin by observing, that if the time for 
 choosing a profession has come, it is not well, as a 
 general rule, to postpone it by unnecessary delays. 
 If you say, your mind is unsettled ; I reply, in the 
 first place, that in practical matters the will has 
 more to do in settling the mind than arguments ; 
 and, secondly, that the probable effect of another 
 year spent without an object will only be to un- 
 settle your minds still more. Perhaps, however, you 
 are bent on devoting a year or two to general 
 reading, or foreign travel, as a means of enlarging 
 and expanding your minds. This sounds well ; but, 
 in point of fact, general reading and foreign travel, 
 under such circumstances, are much more likely to 
 dissipate the mind than to enlarge or expand it. 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 307 
 
 Indeed, what considerable advantage can there be, 
 and I may even add, what practical interest, in 
 reading or travelling without any particular object 
 in view, without any reason why we should con- 
 sider one thing rather than another, without being 
 able to turn anything to immediate account by see- 
 ing how it bears on our own special pursuits ? But 
 you may have another motive for the delay : you 
 may think to avoid in this way the error, so com- 
 mon in this country, of hurrying into active hfe 
 without -due preparation. To enter on the practice 
 of any profession without being duly prepared for 
 it is, I admit, a great error ; but this is a reason 
 for beginning the preparation as soon as may be ; 
 certainly it is no reason for unnecessary delays. 
 So much impressed was Dr. Johnson with the mis- 
 chiefs of hesitancy and fickleness on this subject, 
 that he is half inclined to recommend that every 
 one's calling should be determined by his parents 
 or guardian ; at any rate, he does not hesitate to 
 conclude, "that of two states of life equally con- 
 sistent with religion and virtue, he who chooses 
 earliest chooses best." 
 
 Another preliminary suggestion is, that in choosing 
 a profession we should take care not to allow too 
 much weight to local and temporary considerations ; 
 — considerations which will have no bearing on our 
 future progress, except perhaps to narrow and limit 
 
308 CHOICE OF A PEOFESSION. 
 
 it. I suppose there are those who can give no better 
 reason for being in one profession rather than another 
 than this ; that they found it easier to get into it. 
 But certainly our success and happiness are to de- 
 pend, not on our getting into a profession, but on our 
 g;etting on in it ; that is to say, on our being able to 
 fill it honorably and well. I know the common ex- 
 cuse. It will be said, that we are often placed in 
 circumstances where we must do, not as we would, 
 but as we can. And this is true. But certainly, 
 as regards so important and eventful a step as the 
 choice of a profession, it is seldom necessary for a 
 young man in this country, with health and strength 
 in his limbs, and courage in his heart, and nobody 
 dependent on him, to resort to such an excuse for 
 not resolving to find his proper place, cost what it 
 may. We talk about what we can do, and what we 
 cannot ; but, after all, this is, for the most part, an 
 arbitrary distinction. What one man calls impossible, 
 another man calls merely difficult; and, with minds 
 which are made of the right sort of stuff, difficulties 
 do not repel or dishearten ; they only stimulate to 
 new and greater efforts. Do you still object, '' But 
 we must live meanwhile " ? I reply, in the first place, 
 that this does not necessarily follow : there are many 
 things which we had better die rather than do or 
 suffer. And besides, suppose we must live, we can 
 live on bread and water ; as a multitude of poor 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 309 
 
 scholars have done for years, and afterwards won 
 for themselves a brilliant success, an imperishable 
 renown. Better, a thousand times better, live on 
 bread and water for a few days, or a few months, than 
 sacrifice the prospects of a whole life. 
 
 Hence we conclude, that every young man owes 
 it to himself, at any cost or sacrifice consistent with 
 virtue and religion, to find, as soon as may be, his 
 proper place and calling, meaning thereby the place 
 and calling in which, with his education and abil- 
 ities, he is most likely to become useful and happy. 
 
 But how is he to find it ? that is the great question. 
 I answer generally. By considering what he was made 
 for, taking into view, at tlie same time, his intellect- 
 ual aptitudes, and his moral needs and dangers. 
 
 As regards intellectual or mental aptitudes, or 
 what is sometimes called the natural bent of one's 
 genius, two extreme opinions have found supporters, 
 which seem to me to be almost equally removed from 
 practical wisdom. The first is that of those who con- 
 tend that a strong tendency to one profession rather 
 than to another is to be considered ; but only, that it 
 may be crossed and overruled. They argue thus : 
 Our highest object should be, not professional success 
 and eminence, but human perfection, which sup- 
 poses and requires balance and harmony of char- 
 acter. Now when any one betrays a strong proclivity 
 to a particular profession, it shows that some parts 
 
310 CHOICE OF A PEOFESSION. 
 
 of his mind are unduly, or at least disproportionately 
 developed, while others are kept back ; and, there- 
 fore, in choosing a profession, his object should be 
 to find one which will tend to bring out the latter, 
 so that he may become a complete and perfect man. 
 Thus, if a person early manifests extraordinary tal- 
 ents for business and affairs, this is a reason why he 
 should not be, by profession, a man of business and 
 affairs, for he is enough of that already : he ought 
 rather to go into the army or the Church, which 
 will have the effect to call forth his latent qualities. 
 
 I hardly need say that this doctrine, plausible as 
 it may seem to some minds, is theoretically false, 
 and practically absurd. It is theoretically false ; for, 
 though balance and harmony of character enter into 
 the theory of what a man ought to be, these have 
 nothing to do with an equal, or even with a propor- 
 tionate development of his faculties. His occupations 
 may be wholly mechanical, for example ; but it does 
 not follow that his character will be either one-sided, 
 or in any manner distorted. And besides, a man is 
 not the whole of humanity ; neither does he represent 
 the whole of humanity ; neither is he called upon, 
 even in theory, to embody or personate the whole 
 of this humanity, in all its ideal completeness and 
 proportions. We are the many members which go 
 to make up the one body ; and it is enough if each 
 member does its appropriate work, and does it well. 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 311 
 
 Moreover, to pursue the course recommended above 
 would be practically absurd. Every man would do 
 what he is least fitted to do ; and the consequence 
 would be, that the whole work of life would be done 
 in the worst possible manner and under the greatest 
 possible disadvantages. 
 
 Nor is this all ; for the subject has its religious 
 aspects. When we refer to a man's profession as 
 being his vocation, or calling, we suppose him to be 
 called. There is one profession, indeed, that of the 
 divine, which it is generally, and, as I conceive, justly, 
 thought to be presumptuous to enter without being 
 distinctly and emphatically called, and called of God. 
 But how called ? The fancies and dreams of the 
 enthusiast have nothing to do with a sober and' prac- 
 tical matter of this kind. Every man is calmly and 
 impartially to consider what he was made for, what 
 by the constitution of his mind and character he is 
 best fitted to become, and to look upon this as a 
 call from God, — the voice of God speaking in his 
 own nature, which, when distinct and emphatic, he 
 has no right to disregard. 
 
 Often, however, and I suppose I may say, generally, 
 the call is not distinct and emphatic, at least as 
 regards most professions ; and this leads me to notice 
 the other of the two extreme opinions referred to 
 above. It consists in supposing that every man has 
 his place, and that everything depends on his finding 
 
312 CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 
 
 that particular place, a mistake here being final and 
 fatal. No such thing. We are not born with adaptor 
 tions, but with adaptabilities ; and these are such in 
 most men that they can fit themselves as well, or 
 nearly as well, for one as another of several profes- 
 sions. Leaving out of view eminence in the fine arts, 
 which seems to require at the start a peculiar nervous 
 organization, I do not believe there is one man in ten 
 whom nature has endowed with aptitudes and predis- 
 positions so special and marked that he might not 
 succeed perfectly well in any one out of several pur- 
 suits. In a large majority of cases the battle of life 
 is won, not by natural, but by personal qualities ; 
 by those personal qualities which invite favor and 
 inspire confidence and insure courage and persist- 
 ency in whatever is undertaken. If any of you are 
 perplexed and in trouble, not knowing what you were 
 made for, this very doubt shows that, probably, you 
 were not made for anything in particular. But what 
 follows ? Merely that your success in life will depend 
 much less on mental aptitudes, or what is called bent 
 of genius, than on what lies behind all this, — on 
 strength of will, power of self-control, force of char- 
 acter. These will do more and better for you than 
 incline you to a particular profession : they will make 
 it as certain as anything human can be, that you will 
 prosper, whatever may be your profession. 
 
 Even taste for a profession, or interest in it, is often 
 
CHOICE OF A PKOFESSION. 813 
 
 an aftergrowth ; that is to say, not only acquired, but 
 acquired after the profession is adopted and entered 
 upon. The childish preference and longing for a 
 particular profession, sometimes awakened in the 
 young in consequence of hearing it continually talked 
 about, or of hearing themselves continually desig- 
 nated for it, really signifies nothing, and generally 
 ends in nothing. To play with a pursuit, to amuse 
 one's self with it in the spirit of an amateur, is no 
 evidence of a radical and effective bent of mind : a 
 man must be ready for the hard work necessary to 
 distinction in it, or that distinction is not for him. 
 A proper taste for a particular profession, or inter- 
 est in it, depends, for the most part, on the direc- 
 tion which curiosity takes, or rather on the path 
 into which it is turned. Now this curiosity, espe- 
 cially when it becomes earnest and intense, is not 
 born, as some would seem to imagine, of ignorance, 
 but of knowledge. Idiots and savages who know com- 
 paratively nothing, are also found to be equally defi- 
 cient in a desire to know. It is because we know so 
 much already, that we pine and yearn to know more : 
 the problems we have raised haunt us, and give us no 
 rest until they are solved. Thus it is, that in pro- 
 portion as the great questions and uses of a noble 
 profession break on the mind, the mind, if it is of the 
 right sort, is seized with a passion to master them, and 
 make them its own. And this love of one's profes- 
 
 14 
 
314 CHOICE OF A PKOFESSION. 
 
 sion, which is generated by the profession itself, is 
 much more to be relied on than any antecedent 
 and supposed natural leaning ; for the latter makes us 
 love a profession before we can be said to know what 
 it is, and therefore may often turn out to be a love 
 of what we fancy the profession to be, but not of what 
 it is in reality, or, at any rate, a love of some things 
 about a profession, but not of the profession itself. 
 
 Nay, more. The most genuine and thorough devo- 
 tion to one's chosen work is sometimes not merely 
 an after, but also a slow growth, beginning even in 
 positive dislike. " I have heard it observed," says a 
 writer of excellent judgment, " that those men who 
 have risen to the greatest eminence in the profes- 
 sion of law have been in general such as had at 
 first an aversion to the study. The reason probably 
 is, that to a mind fond of general principles every 
 study must be at first disgusting which presents to 
 it a chaos of facts apparently unconnected with each 
 
 other A man destitute of genius may, with 
 
 little effort, treasure up in his memory a number 
 of particulars which he refers to no principle, and 
 from which he deduces no conclusion ; and from 
 his facility in acquiring this stock of information, may 
 flatter himself with the belief that he possesses a 
 natural taste for this or that branch of knowledge. 
 But they who are really destined to extend the 
 boundaries of science, when they first enter on new 
 
CHOICE OF A PKOFESSION. 315 
 
 pursuits, feel their attention distracted, and their 
 memory overloaded with facts among which they can 
 trace no relation, and are sometimes apt to despair 
 entirely of their future progress." * In due time, 
 however, their superiority appears, and arises in part 
 from that very dissatisfaction which they at first ex- 
 perienced, as it will not cease to stimulate their in- 
 quiries until they penetrate to the foundations ; until, 
 underneath this confused mass of facts, they can dis- 
 cern those great laws of order and harmony which 
 give meaning and unity to the whole, and which have 
 such power to charm and hold the best minds. 
 
 I have dwelt longer than I intended on the re- 
 gard which is to be paid to bent of genius and 
 natural taste in the choice of a profession. Where 
 these are distinctly pronounced they are generally 
 decisive, and ought to be so : it would be folly, 
 I had almost said impiety, to disregard them. On 
 the other hand, where, as in a vast majority of 
 cases, they are not distinctly pronounced, this is no 
 ground of apprehension that a wrong choice will be 
 made, for a wrong choice, under such circumstances, 
 is hardly possible : the very occasion of the hesitancy 
 as to what ought to be done is the fact that several 
 things can be done almost equally well. Neither 
 is it ground of discouragement as to final success. 
 Any of the great professions, if entered into with 
 
 * Stewart's Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, Ch. VI. § 9. 
 
316 CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 
 
 an honest and earnest purpose, and faithfully fol- 
 lowed up, will soon generate, if it does not find, 
 the spirit and mental aptitude it requires : so that 
 every one may begin life with a reasonable assur- 
 ance that his progress will be in proportion to his 
 general ability, provided only that he is true to 
 his calling, whatever it may be, and true to himself. 
 
 But, as intimated before, there is another con- 
 sideration which every one should take into view in 
 the choice of a profession : I mean, Ms moral needs 
 and dangers. 
 
 Complaints, frequent and deep, come up from all 
 quarters, that moral and religious education is more 
 and more neglected ; that young men are trained 
 in letters and science, but not in Christianity, and 
 then are sent forth into the world, to do as they 
 may. These complaints are doubtless, to a certain 
 extent, well founded ; but there is no occasion for 
 exaggerating existing evils, no wisdom in turning 
 a sermon into a lampoon on the country or the 
 age. After all, the best part of a Christian educa- 
 tion does not result from the formal teaching of a 
 catechism, or the formal observance of an outward 
 ritual, but from participation in the life of a com- 
 munity acting, consciously or unconsciously, under 
 the influence of Christian ideas. And in this re- 
 spect I do not believe in the degeneracy of modern 
 times. The thousand reformatory movements going 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 317 
 
 on around us, although attended with not a little 
 of folly and extravagance, prove incontestablj one 
 thing : they prove that men are beginning to feel, 
 as they never did before, that religion is not merely 
 to be professed, but lived; that it is to mould, not 
 merely the faith and worship of individuals, but the 
 manners and customs of society, the institutions and 
 the laws ; in short, that a community is Christian 
 so far as it acts out Christian ideas, and no further. 
 Now I say, that merely to grow up in such a com- 
 munity, and, as a necessary consequence, to partake 
 more or less of the prevailing spirit, is a sort of 
 Christian education, and, with all its drawbacks and 
 shortcomings, a better Christian education, in my 
 opinion, than was ever given in the conventual 
 schools of the Middle Ages, where theology, and the 
 means and forms of a mechanical devotion, were 
 almost the only things taught. 
 
 Growing up amidst these movements, and par- 
 taking more or less of the common life, it is hardly 
 to be expected that young men, in deliberately lay- 
 ing down a plan of life, will make it part of that 
 plan to purchase success by the sacrifice of integrity 
 and honor. But the danger is, that they will not 
 take care, in the outset, effectually to guard against 
 the possibility of such an event, though it does not 
 enter into their plan. The danger is, that they 
 will allow themselves to be drawn into connections, 
 
318 CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 
 
 and under influences, which will slowly and uncon- 
 sciously undermine their integrity and honor ; that 
 in selecting their worldly pursuits they will think 
 only of worldly ends, not reflecting, that, without 
 personal dignity and worth, distinction is an empty 
 name, and wealth but a temptation, or at best a 
 vulgar care. 
 
 It will not do to rank the choice of a profession 
 among things indifierent, or things allowable, in a 
 moral point of view, on the ground that there is 
 no morality whatever in preferring the study of 
 medicine to that of law, or the study of law to that 
 of medicine. True, there is no morality in pre- 
 ferring one study to another, nor in the act of 
 choice founded on that preference, simply consid- 
 ered ; nevertheless, the consequences of the act may 
 be of unspeakable moment in their bearing on a 
 man's moral progress, as it determines the sphere 
 and kind of his actions, and it is in the doing of 
 these actions that his character will be formed. 
 Again, it will not do to assume that it must be safe 
 to adopt this or that profession, on the ground that 
 good men have done so, without ceasing to be good 
 men. The safety of such men may be owing to 
 conditions in which they differ from you ; — to a 
 different temperament, to a different previous train- 
 ing, or perhaps to their very goodness itself, lead- 
 ing them to take a higher and more Christian view 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 
 
 319 
 
 of the nature and ends of the profession, and of 
 their duties to it. We ki^ow from Scripture that 
 some can tread on serpents and scorpions without 
 being hurt ; but it is not so with all. 
 
 And besides, it is not enough to know that your 
 profession will not hurt you: it should help you; 
 it is to make you, for the most part, what you 
 are to be. Much, I am aware, is said, at the present 
 day, about extra-professional duties and activities, 
 and many appear to look in that direction for their 
 principal influence and distinction. In order to 
 vindicate this course by a show of reasoning, they 
 will tell you that a clergyman, for example, is more 
 a citizen than he is a clergyman, and more a man 
 than he is a citizen. Indeed ! on this principle they 
 might go one step further, and say that he is more 
 an animal than either. The argument is fallacious 
 at bottom; if it proved anything, it would prove 
 too much. The mistake originates in overlooking 
 or misapplying the logical paradox, that the less ex- 
 tensive a general term is, the more it includes. 
 The clergyman is a man and a citizen, and some- 
 thing more. Speaking generally, the office indicates 
 and defines the sphere in which the duties of the man 
 and the citizen are to be fulfilled. In one word, he 
 has an appropriate and specific care which he has 
 no right to forsake, that he may look after another 
 man's. See how such conduct would strike you 
 
320 CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 
 
 in other and simpler relations. Tlie helm is put 
 into the pilot's hands, which -he neglects that he 
 may talk politics with the crew, — on the plea, for- 
 sooth, that he is more a citizen than a pilot, — and 
 the vessel is lost. Would the owners be satisfied? 
 Would anybody be satisfied? I think not. Among 
 the ultraisms with which the age teems, there is none 
 for which less can be said than for that unnatural 
 and impracticable cosmopolitanism which makes our 
 responsibilities begin with the duties farthest from 
 us, and is chiefly anxious lest we should love our 
 friends, our country, our profession, too well. Let 
 not the cant of a so-called liberalism make you 
 ashamed of a hearty devotion to your profession, 
 after you have chosen it, seeking by your success 
 in that, and not in digressions from it, to build up 
 an honest independence and a good name. But for 
 this very reason it becomes the more necessary that 
 your profession should be one which will afford 
 scope for your best affections and abilities, and tend 
 to make the most, not only of your circumstances, 
 but of yourselves. 
 
 Hence it may be thought that I have done nothing, 
 after all, to lessen the embarrassment attendant on 
 the choice of a profession, but only changed its 
 issues, making it to turn on the question of moral 
 fitness, and not, as a general rule, on that of men- 
 tal aptitude, or bent of genius. This, however, is 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 821 
 
 only partially true. The moral embarrassments al- 
 most entirely disappear, as soon as the subject is 
 approached with an honest purpose to do what is 
 right. In such a frame of mind it is hardly pos- 
 sible that a thought should be entertained of a pur- 
 suit involving great moral dangers or incongruities. 
 A man's profession is no longer regarded as a field 
 of selfish competition, but of a noble and generous 
 emulation in the public service, the only, or the 
 main solicitude being, that he may find a situation 
 in which he can best fulfil all his duties to God 
 and man. And even this solicitude need not trouble 
 the upright in heart ; for moral safety and moral 
 progress seldom require that a man should change 
 his profession, but only that he should take a differ- 
 ent and a higher view of what belongs to the pro- 
 fession he has chosen. A profession, which to low 
 and sordid men is as low and sordid as they, 
 becomes transfigured in the new lights and relations 
 under which it is regarded by the enlightened and 
 devoted Christian. Meanwhile the lawyer does not 
 cease to be a lawyer, merely because he becomes 
 a Christian lawyer ; neither does the physician cease 
 to be a physician, merely because he becomes a 
 Christian physician. 
 
 I have now set before you, my friends, what 
 seems to me to be the duty of a young man in the 
 choice of his profession, and 1 have endeavored to 
 
 14* u 
 
322 CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 
 
 do it in such a manner, that no one may think to 
 find in his perplexity as to what he ought to do 
 an excuse for doing nothing. Neither your profes- 
 sion nor your circumstances, but the quick eye, 
 and the strong arm, and the iron will must work 
 out for you the great problem of life. These quali- 
 ties, however, are little better than brute force, un- 
 less inspired and directed by a high moral purpose ; 
 and this high moral purpose little better than a 
 breath of air, unless it rests on religious faith ; and 
 this religious faith " unstable as water," unless ac- 
 cepted as the revealed will of God. " For other 
 foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which 
 is Jesus Christ." 
 
THE END NOT YET. 
 
 NOT AS THOUGH I HAD ALREADY ATTAINED, EITHER WERE AL- 
 READY perfect: but i follow after. — Philippians iii. 12. 
 
 One of the strongest natural proofs or presumptions 
 of man's immortality is found in the fact, that his 
 entire destiny never seems to be accomplished in 
 this life. He never becomes, in the present constitu- 
 tion of things, all that his nature, in itself considered, 
 makes him capable of becoming. It is not so with 
 the inferior animals. All mere animals, without a 
 single exception, have their instincts with fixed boun- 
 daries, which are soon reached and never passed, 
 and never would be passed if they were to live for- 
 ever. But no such boundaries are set to the human 
 faculties. Every new acquisition which a man makes 
 is not only so much gained, but a new power of gain- 
 ing more; and so on, without end. Now, why en- 
 dow him with a nature capable of unlimited growth 
 and progress, why introduce this into the plan of 
 creation, and yet not provide scope in the same plan 
 for the actual or possible development of such a 
 
324 THE END NOT YET. 
 
 nature ? Can we believe that man, alone of all be- 
 ings, should be clothed with a nature which is in 
 contradiction to his destiny? that he is constituted 
 and contrived for one issue, and doomed to another ? 
 that he, alone of all beings, is mocked with conscious 
 powers and irrepressible aspirations, which were in- 
 tended from the beginning to be disappointed ? in 
 fine, that the sentiments which most ennoble him, 
 and the faith which most inspires and exalts him, 
 should all have their foundation and root in a delu- 
 sion and a lie ? 
 
 No ; though man can never attain to perfection, 
 he will always be in a condition, if so disposed, to 
 make continual advances towards it. And hence the 
 distinguishing peculiarity of human life, that it is 
 never finished, never completed, in the sense of all 
 being done that ought to be done. Man's goal in 
 the distance is not a stationary one ; it is continually 
 moving on before him : and this is provided for, in 
 the mind of man, as well as in his circumstances, 
 by making his powers of conception to transcend 
 his powers of execution. By the very process of 
 transmuting the ideal of yesterday into the actual of 
 to-day, he is put into a condition to elevate and purify 
 his former ideal; his notion or conception of what 
 he ought to be is still in advance of what he is. His 
 rule should be, always to do liis best; but his best 
 of to-day is a better best than that of yesterday, 
 because his views have been enlarged and extended. 
 
THE END NOT YET. 825 
 
 Hence it is, that, with every man in whom there 
 is the slightest pretension to activity of thought, the 
 ideal of life always keeps in advance of the actual, to 
 beckon him on. Constituted as his nature is, there 
 never will come a time, in this world or the next, 
 when he will not have occasion to say, with the Apos- 
 tle, " Not as though I had already attained, either 
 were already perfect : but I follow after." The end 
 is not yet. 
 
 From this constitution of human life two conse- 
 quences flow; both of which will strike us at first 
 sight as evil, but on further consideration will be 
 approved as good. 
 
 In the first place, a foundation is thus laid in the 
 human soul for a profound and ineradicable feel- 
 ing of discontent and unrest. I do not here use the 
 term " discontent " in the sense in which it is most 
 frequently taken ; I do not mean discontent with 
 the past, or discontent with our condition and cir- 
 cumstances ; but merely discontent with ourselves 
 as we are, grounded on a conviction that we might 
 be, and ought to be, continually growing better. If 
 it should be objected, that all discontent supposes 
 uneasiness, and all uneasiness pain, and that all pain 
 is evil, I answer that this is reasoning according to 
 sound, and not according to sense. All uneasiness 
 does not suppose positive pain. That uneasiness with 
 our present selves which puts us on self-improve- 
 
326 THE END NOT YET. 
 
 ment is not attended with pain, provided only that 
 nothing exists within or without to hinder such self- 
 improvement. It is nothing but the uneasiness of 
 desire ; and who would live with nothing to desire ? 
 It is not necessarily accompanied by a shade of re- 
 morse, or repentance, or even of regret ; for the self- 
 improvement desired may not be from bad to good, 
 but from good to better ; and this is a longing which 
 may burn in the heart of an archangel, as well as 
 in that of halting and fainting man. What, however, 
 under this view, becomes of the peace and rest which 
 the Gospel promises as the reward of faith and obedi- 
 ence ? " Take my yoke upon you, and learn of 
 me ; for I am meek and lowly of heart ; and ye 
 shall find rest to your souls." I answer, again, that 
 the "rest" here spoken of is rest from worldly 
 uneasiness and discontent, rest from struggle and 
 conflict with external or internal foes, — not rest 
 from progress, not rest from self-improvement. 
 
 There is also, as I have intimated above, another 
 consequence, and one of still greater practical mo- 
 ment, flowing from the fact, that the end of human 
 life is not an attainment made once for all, but a 
 continual unfolding, a continual advancing. This 
 consequence is, that, as human life is never complete, 
 education, which is the preparation for it in its differ- 
 ent and successive degrees and stages, is never com- 
 plete. You remember those noble words of Milton : 
 
THE END NOT YET. 327 
 
 " I call, therefore, a complete and generous educa- 
 tion that which fits a man to perform justly, skilfully, 
 and magnanimously all the offices, both private and 
 public, of peace and war." * But when, in the very 
 next sentence, he proceeds to call attention to the 
 manner in which " all this may be done between 
 twelve and one and twenty," we feel that he has lost 
 sight of his own conception of what education should 
 be, and sunk down to the common and low view of 
 the subject. Education, in its highest and best sense, 
 does not consist wholly or mainly in mere teaching, 
 but still more in the unfolding and training of the 
 intellectual and moral faculties. It comprehends the 
 sum total of the preparation for the life to follow ; 
 and, understood in this sense, it is obvious that no 
 bounds are set to it, or can be set to it. Childhood 
 is the education for youth ; youth, for manhood ; 
 manhood, for old age ; and the whole of this life 
 for the life to come. Neither will it stop there. 
 Hints abound in Scripture which confirm the expecta- 
 tion, founded on the analogies of nature, that progress 
 will not end with the world that now is. The im- 
 mortal spirit will still need to be fitted for higher 
 and higher stages in the heavenly society and the 
 heavenly occupations and enjoyments. Education 
 will never stand still ; its work will never be ac- 
 complished ; the time will never come when it can- 
 
 * Tractate on Education, § 7. 
 
328 THE END NOT YET. 
 
 not be said, with as much truth as now, " The end 
 is not yet." The great Apostle to the Gentiles is 
 probably repeating now, what he said or implied 
 so often on earth, " Not as though I had already at- 
 tained, either were already perfect : but I follow after." 
 
 This train of thought has been suggested by the 
 condition and prospects of that portion of my audi- 
 ence who have just accomplished their collegiate 
 course, and are worshipping with us for the last 
 time. 
 
 To say, my young friends, that your education 
 is not as yet complete, would be to say what you 
 all feel and know. Many of you have already made 
 arrangements to enter immediately on professional 
 or more exclusively scientific studies, understanding 
 it to be in continuation of the education which you 
 have begun here. Under these circumstances it is 
 of importance to apprehend as clearly as may be 
 the precise place which an academic training holds 
 in the life of a liberally educated man. 
 
 In the first place, there is the exercise and dis- 
 cipline of the intellectual faculties. Bishop Butler 
 has told you, that " if we suppose a person brought 
 into the world with all his powers of body and 
 mind in maturity, as far as this is conceivable, he 
 would plainly be at first as unqualified for the 
 human life of mature age as an idiot." * And the 
 
 * Analogy^ Part I. Chap. V. 
 
THE END NOT YET. 329 
 
 reason is obvious. It is not enough that we have 
 powers ; we must know how to use them, have 
 them under our command, be able to concentrate 
 them on this subject or that, as we choose ; which 
 is the work of experience and discipline. Now I 
 admit that any mode of Ufe supposes some kind 
 and some degree of experience and intellectual ac- 
 tivity ; and this is of the nature of education, and 
 leads to more or less of self-culture. All life is ex- 
 ercise, and all exercise is education of some sort 
 or other ; but a collegiate education has this dis- 
 tinction and privilege : it is systematic education, — 
 education systematically contrived with a view to 
 bring out and cultivate in the best manner all the 
 faculties, neither neglecting any nor exaggerating 
 any. Provided it does this effectively, it accom- 
 plishes, as far as it goes, the great purpose of a 
 general and preparatory education. 
 
 Here, then, is a sufficient answer to the shallow 
 but popular objection, that many things studied in 
 colleges have no direct bearing on after life. This 
 is often doubtless the case with some particular 
 studies, in themselves considered, but not with the 
 general discipline they induce, which is the principal 
 thing. It cannot be repeated too often, that the 
 principal object aimed at in preliminary and general 
 education is, not to teach one what he ought to 
 think in after life, but to put him into a condition 
 
330 THE END NOT YET. 
 
 to think for himself, with judgment, discrimination, 
 energy, and taste. For this reason the wisdom of 
 ages has pronounced in favor of classical studies, as 
 laying the best foundation of a liberal culture ; no 
 matter though the student should never have occa- 
 sion in after life to open a Latin or Greek book, 
 or, indeed, attain to such proficiency as would 
 enable him to enjoy it, if he did. The same may 
 also be said of the study of mathematics and meta- 
 physics, at least in respect to minds having any 
 natural aptitude for it. A great master of the last- 
 mentioned science has said : "It is as the best 
 gymnastic of the mind, — as a mean, principally, 
 and almost exclusively conducive to the highest 
 education of our noblest powers, that we would vin- 
 dicate to these speculations the necessity which has 
 too frequently been denied them. By no other in- 
 tellectual application (and least of all by physical pur- 
 suits) is the soul thus reflected on itself, and its 
 faculties concentred in such independent, vigorous, 
 unwonted, and continued energy ; — by none, there- 
 fore, are its best capacities so variously and in- 
 tensely evolved. ^ Where there is most life, there 
 is the victory.' " * 
 
 Even, therefore, if all that is learned in colleges 
 in the way of positive instruction were forgotten at 
 
 * Sir William Hamilton's Discussions on Philosophy and Literature^ 
 p. 40. 
 
THE END NOT YET. 331 
 
 the moment of leaving them, it does not follow that 
 the time spent there is misspent. But all is not 
 forgotten. 
 
 Accordingly I would mention, as the second ad- 
 vantage of a college course, the general information 
 it imparts in almost every field of human inquiry ; 
 which general information, considered as the basis 
 of a special scientific or professional education, makes 
 the whole to be a truly liberal education. Who 
 does not know that what are called the learned 
 professions may be adopted and followed in a spirit 
 as narrow and sordid as any of the handicrafts ? 
 This is the case, for the most part, with the lawyer 
 who is nothing but a lawyer, and with the physician 
 who is nothing but a physician ; neither being bent 
 on understanding his profession in its highest rela- 
 tions, or exalting it to its highest uses, but only on 
 turning it to immediate profit. Some have thought 
 that this might be prevented by resisting the ten- 
 dency of modern times to a division and subdivision 
 of intellectual labor. But not so. This tendency 
 to a division and subdivision of intellectual labor 
 is a necessary consequence of the advancement of 
 the arts and sciences, making it indispensable to 
 success, certainly to eminence, that a man should 
 give himself mainly to a single department. Under 
 these circumstances, if a professional man does not 
 start with a mind stored with the fruits of good learn- 
 
332 THE EKD NOT YET. 
 
 ing, or at least with an acquired taste for such things, 
 it is hardly to be expected that he will ever have them. 
 A lawyer or physician in full practice can find oppor- 
 tunity for liberal studies and a general self-culture, 
 if he is so disposed ; but the disposition itself is 
 not likely to spring up amidst the fatigues and dis- 
 tractions of his daily and hourly cares. If you mean 
 by a lawyer nothing more than a cunning and suc- 
 cessful trier of cases, one who can browbeat a wit- 
 ness or mystify the jury, I do not suppose that a 
 college education is necessary to such a person, or 
 even that it would be useful. But if you mean by 
 a lawyer, an accomplished advocate, one who can 
 seize the principle which lies concealed under the 
 precedent, and make the darkest subject plain to 
 common minds, by throwing upon it the lights of 
 an extended and various erudition, it is certain 
 that mere legal culture will not do. It must be 
 legal culture, founded on the highest general and 
 learned culture which the age affords. 
 
 The third principal benefit resulting from a col- 
 lege training, considered as preliminary to the more 
 special vocations in life, is not so much intellectual 
 as moral and practical. A college, as we have been 
 told again and again, is a little world, a micro- 
 cosm, where almost every faculty, disposition, and 
 passion is put to the proof which is ever called out 
 in the great world. Here the student must exer- 
 
THE END NOT YET. 333 
 
 cise self-control, especially as regards the love of 
 ease and the love of pleasure, or take the conse- 
 quences. Here he must choose his amusements and 
 his companions wisely, or take the consequences. 
 Here also he must concentrate his attention on the 
 work of the hour, and submit to earnest and con- 
 tinuous labor, or take the consequences. Aiid these 
 consequences, though not always the same in form, 
 are the same in substance, and, as far as they go, 
 the same in their bearing on success and happiness 
 as in the great world. All this, however, may be 
 said to hold true of early life, wherever passed ; 
 and so it does. What distinguishes a college life 
 is, that it comes to a natural close ; judgment is 
 pronounced upon it ; we say of one person, he has 
 succeeded, and of another, he has failed. The same 
 actors will reappear, indeed ; but it will be on an- 
 other stage, in other connections, and with other 
 objects in view ; hence it will not follow necessarily, 
 because a man has failed here, that he will fail 
 there. He may be said to have a second trial, while 
 others, with a continuous, unbroken life, have but 
 one. 
 
 Now I look on this as an obvious and great ad- 
 vantage. It is not uncommon for persons when 
 near the close of their earthly existence to express 
 a wish that they could live this life over again. 
 With their present experience they are not unwilling 
 
334 THE END NOT YET. 
 
 to admit that they should do differently in many 
 respects ; that they should set a different estimate 
 on many of the pursuits of ambition and pleasure, 
 and know how to shun many a hidden pitfall. 
 This cannot be ; but a privilege resembling it to a 
 certain extent is enjoyed by all those who, after 
 having completed their college course, can carry the 
 often dear-bought wisdom which they have gained 
 there into new scenes. Thus college life is not 
 merely a preparation for the life to follow, — a quality 
 which it possesses in common with every form of 
 novitiate or apprenticeship, — but also a life by itself, 
 a rehearsal, so to speak, of the life to follow, a sort 
 of trial-life, with its retributions carried out, leaving 
 those who have just passed through it to enter 
 upon another career with the singular benefit of 
 such an experience. 
 
 This, my friends, is precisely your condition at this 
 moment. With one foot on the threshold of the 
 great world, you cannot help looking back ; and you 
 cannot help looking forward. 
 
 You cannot help looking back. And what do you 
 see ? Many things, I hope, which you can review 
 with satisfaction. But are there not also many things 
 which you now wish had not been ? No writer has 
 sufficiently explained that law of our nature by which 
 an excited state of the passions is able to pervert 
 our judgment as to what is rig] it and safe. Explain 
 
THE END NOT YET. 335 
 
 it, however, as we may, one thing is certain ; in the 
 moment of action, with our desires raised and in- 
 flamed, we are seldom in a condition to form a just 
 opinion of the true character and real tendency of 
 what we do. Afterwards comes a season of sober 
 reflection, when we can see things as they are ; when 
 we can pronounce as impartially on our own con- 
 duct as on that of others ; when we can feel that 
 we have been made fools of by sophistries which 
 will not bear a moment's examination ; that we have 
 sought to reconcile ourselves to ourselves *.by excuses 
 which we suspected at the time, and which we now 
 know, were hollow and vain. This is generally the 
 crisis in a young man's destiny. If he is of a dull 
 or reckless mind, he will refuse to dwell on the sub- 
 ject, and go on as before. If he is of a sensitive 
 and weak mind, he will be apt to indulge in unavail- 
 ing regrets, and perhaps give up all as lost. But if 
 he is of a sound and resolute mind, he will make 
 his past mistakes and failures to be his teachers ; the 
 consciousness of his very sins will stir his moral na- 
 ture to its depths, and sometimes have the effect to 
 rouse him to a new activity. Thus students of good 
 natural dispositions and gifts, who have spent their 
 time in college to but little purpose, not unfrequently 
 wake up at the close of it, and give themselves to 
 their subsequent pursuits with an earnestness and 
 devotion which redeem the evil days and surprise 
 
336 THE END NOT YET. 
 
 all. In this way they may be said, more perhaps 
 than any other class of persons, to have a second 
 chance to distinguish themselves, a second chance 
 to satisfy their friends and put themselves right before 
 the world and before God ; but it is commonly their 
 last chance. 
 
 Again, you cannot help looking forward. And 
 what do you see ? You see, in the first place, that 
 success is to depend, much more than it has done 
 hitherto, on yourselves. Up to this hour fond and 
 anxious eyes have watched over you ; your wants 
 have been anticipated, and provided for, day by day ; 
 other hands have assisted yours in removing the ob- 
 stacles in your path ; you have pursued your studies 
 under a routine, which, however irksome to you in 
 other respects, has had this effect at least: it has 
 helped to supply the defects in your own self-direction, 
 and self-control. But all this is now over. In the 
 pursuit of your professional studies the restraints 
 of discipline will no longer be felt. The momentous, 
 the terrible gift of freedom is put into your hands, 
 and you will be left to make yourselves as wise and 
 virtuous and happy as you please, or as foolish 
 and vicious and miserable as you please. This, more 
 perhaps than anything else, must have the effect to 
 induce you to pause, and ponder your steps. But 
 the doctrine is one which has its bright as well as its 
 dark side. Many young men are troubled by the 
 
THE END NOT YET. 337 
 
 apprehension that their success in life will depend 
 on their choosing the right profession, or on find- 
 ing their proper place in society. But no such thing. 
 If your tastes and aptitudes are strongly marked, 
 you can hardly help choosing the right profession, 
 and falling into the proper place ; and if your tastes 
 and aptitudes are not strongly marked, it is plain 
 that you would do about as well in one profession 
 or place as in another. In any event, success will 
 not depend on profession or place ; it will depend 
 on pour selves. Under God it will depend on your- 
 selves whether you become something or nothing ; 
 and even the help you are to expect from God is 
 to come through your own choice and your own 
 exertions. " Work out your own salvation with fear 
 and trembling; for it is God that worketh in you 
 both to will and to do of his good pleasure." 
 
 Again ; you see, you can hardly help seeing, that 
 in the life before you everything will depend, in the 
 last resort, on moral worth sustained by Christian 
 faith. In early life we have to content ourselves 
 with good dispositions and generous impulses, for 
 these have not had time to take the form of habit. 
 But good dispositions and generous impulses are 
 motives merely ; they do not constitute a solid foun- 
 dation of character, on which alone a truly happy 
 and prosperous life can be built. I do not deny that 
 knowledge, talent, genius, may procure a certain 
 15 V 
 
838 THE END NOT YET. 
 
 measure of renown, a certain sort of power; but 
 there is one thing which is absolutely indispensable 
 to a happy and prosperous life, and which they never 
 did and never can procure ; I mean, public confi- 
 dence. This depends on moral worth ; and moral 
 worth must find its support in religious principle ; 
 and the religious principle must be, in your case, 
 enlightened religious principle. A merely practical 
 man may accept the religion which prevails around 
 him, and in such unthinking acquiescence find all 
 the support he needs. But the scholar, whose busi- 
 ness it is to inquire and investigate, must see with 
 his own eyes ; he must see that the religion he pro- 
 fesses is consistent with itself and with all known 
 truth, otherwise it will not be likely to do much to 
 give either stability to his character or peace to his 
 soul. 
 
 Remember, you have but begun your education, 
 an education which is never to come to an end ; 
 but you have begun it well, if you have laid the 
 foundation of a broad and generous culture of the 
 whole mind. Hereafter you are to pursue a nar- 
 rower walk ; but let not your eagerness for profes- 
 sioiial advancement narrow your thoughts or your 
 affections, or lead you to neglect what is necessary 
 to moral and religious progress. " For what shall it 
 profit a man, if he gain the whole world and lose 
 his own soul ? " As professional men, as scholars, 
 
THE END NOT YET. 839 
 
 as Christians, let me beseech you to take up the 
 noble declaration of the Apostle, " I count not my- 
 self to have apprehended : but this one thing I do ; 
 forgetting those things which are behind, and reach- 
 ing forth unto those things which are before, I press 
 toward the mark for the prize of the high calling 
 of God in Christ Jesus." 
 
FAITH AND WOEKS. 
 
 TE SEE THEN HOW THAT BY WORKS A MAN IS JUSTIFIED, AND 
 
 NOT BY FAITH ONLY. — James ii. 24. 
 
 Luther, unable to reconcile this and other pas- 
 sages in the Epistle of James with his favorite doc- 
 trine of justification by faith alone, did not hesitate 
 to stigmatize the whole as "an epistle of straw." 
 Others, also, have presumed to speak in terms almost 
 equally disparaging and contemptuous of this Apostle, 
 not only on account of the supposed contradiction 
 between him and Paul respecting justification, but 
 also because the name of Christ is scarcely mentioned 
 by him above once or twice, and then coldly; and 
 because he is silent respecting the mysteries of the 
 incarnation and redemption, morality being the prin- 
 cipal theme. 
 
 But this is not the way, as it seems to me, in which 
 to show our respect for the Scriptures. Instead of 
 setting up one writer above another, one book above 
 another, or one passage above another, it certainly 
 would be more becoming to inquire whether some 
 
FAITH AND WORKS. 341 
 
 statement of the Christian doctrine cannot be found 
 in which all will be seen to harmonize. 
 
 Take, for example, this long-contested question 
 respecting Faith and Works. Some, relying on one 
 set of texts, maintain that mankind are justified 
 and saved by faith " without works ; " others, relying 
 on another set of texts, maintain that " faith without 
 works is dead.'^ How are these apparently contra- 
 dictory doctrines to be reconciled ? 
 
 It seems to me that the origin and continuance of 
 this controversy in the Church, as well as of many 
 others, are mainly, if not entirely, owing to the im- 
 perfection and ambiguity of language. When we are 
 said to be saved by faith alone ^ faith is understood to 
 include all that is essential to obedience in a moral 
 point of view ; that is to say, a disposition and pur- 
 pose to obey, an eiBfective principle of obedience, an 
 inward act of self-surrender and trust. On the other 
 hand, when we are said to be saved by works, works 
 are understood to include the internal as well as the 
 external part of the virtuous act ; not merely the 
 outward form of obedience, but also its spring and 
 soul ; that is to say, the conviction, the faith, which 
 the works express, and which must really exist or 
 the works are a vain show. 
 
 Accordingly, both the doctrines, when rightly under- 
 stood, agree in making obedience, " righteousness 
 and true holiness," to be the ultimate ground of 
 
342 FAITH AND WORKS. 
 
 salvation ; the only difference being, that one regards 
 this obedience in the inward principle from which 
 it starts, and the other in the outward act in which 
 it is consummated. Thus, if we cannot say that these 
 two doctrines are one and identical, we can say, 
 nevertheless, that they do but represent different 
 sides of one and the same truth, and indeed that 
 each supposes or involves the other. The only faith 
 which saves, is the faith which leads to good works, 
 as occasion offers ; and the only works which save, 
 are the works which spring from faith, — from faith 
 in some moral or religious principle, as their living 
 root in the soul ; and the only reason why either 
 of them saves is, that both alike denote a life brought 
 inwardly and outwardly into harmony with the Divine 
 Will. 
 
 Let us now inquire whether this view of faith and 
 works, and their connection with salvation, is not 
 confirmed by Scripture, and whether it does not afford 
 the means of reconciling what have been thought the 
 discordant teachings of the two Apostles on this 
 subject. 
 
 We begin with an example from the Old Testa- 
 ment, often cited in this discussion. " Abraham," 
 it is said, " believed God, and it was counted unto 
 him for righteousness." Now it will not be pretended 
 that the faith here spoken of was a mere assenting to 
 propositions, or the holding of a creed, or an intellect- 
 
FAITH AND WOEKS. 343 
 
 ual act of any kind. It was not a speculative, but 
 a practical faith. The patriarch " believed God ; " 
 that is to say, confided in him, was willing to be led 
 by him, was ready to do whatever God required. 
 It was not a mere conviction, but a disposition ; one 
 which he evinced pre-eminently in the first recorded 
 act of his life, when he went out from his own coun- 
 try, in implicit obedience to a Divine intimation, 
 " not knowing whither he went " ; and again, on 
 a still more memorable occasion, when, in implicit 
 obedience to a like intimation, he " stretched forth 
 his hand, and took the knife to slay his son." True, 
 in the last-mentioned case his hand was stayed ; but 
 this made no moral difference, no difference in his 
 disposition to obey, no difference in his deserts. No 
 matter whether his faith was acted out or not ; he 
 was ready to act it out, being hindered by extra- 
 neous causes alone. The will was there, and the will 
 was taken for the deed, as having all the moral char- 
 acter the deed itself could have, under any circum- 
 stances. 
 
 To be convinced that there was nothing un- 
 reasonable or strange in all this, it is only neces- 
 sary to reverse the conditions of the case. Suppose 
 that Abraham had made up his mind to disobey^ 
 but had been frustrated in the attempt by some 
 unforeseen accident ; every one would have said 
 that, in the eye of conscience, he was guilty. If, 
 
344 FAITH AND WORKS. 
 
 then, a disposition to disobey would of itself have 
 been counted unto him for unrighteousness, why 
 wonder that faith^ which stands in this connection 
 for a disposition to obey, was counted unto him 
 for righteousness ? Above all, why appeal to suck 
 texts to prove that righteousness is unnecessary, when 
 from these very texts it appears that it was only in 
 so far as his faith " was counted unto him for 
 righteousness " that it was of any avail ? 
 
 Before considering more particularly the language 
 used in the New Testament in speaking of faith as 
 a condition of salvation, it will be proper to say a 
 few words of the relation which the New Testa- 
 ment, taken as a whole, bears to the Old, in the 
 education of the great human family. 
 
 A wise parent, in bringing up his children, ac- 
 commodates his modes of training to their years ; 
 that is, to the degree of development which their 
 moral and intellectual faculties have attained. He 
 does not begin by inculcating general principles and 
 dispositions, which his children are not as yet in a 
 condition to comprehend, and then tell them to go 
 and apply these principles and dispositions, as oc- 
 casion offers, in the multiplied and complicated re- 
 lations of human life. This would be to treat chil- 
 dren as if they were men. He begins by command- 
 ing or forbidding easily intelligible actions. Why 
 tliese particular actions are to be done or avoided 
 
FAITH AND WORKS. 345 
 
 it is not necessary that the child should know : it 
 is enough if the parent knows that the habits thus 
 formed are likely to generate the inward spirit re- 
 quired and unfold the character aright. And so 
 with the Universal Father. Judaism was not a dis- 
 pensation of inward principles, of moral and spirit- 
 ual truth, for which the world was as yet unpre- 
 pared, but a dispensation of outward routine, of 
 specific regulations and ordinances. Even the moral- 
 ity inculcated by Moses was inculcated, for the most 
 part, under the form of specific outward acts to be 
 done or avoided, and not of inward principles or 
 dispositions to be believed in, cherished, and carried 
 out. 
 
 We do not mention this in order to find fault 
 with it. We do not complain that an all-wise 
 Providence has adapted his special modes of human 
 training to the successive stages of human progress. 
 Considered with reference to the age and people 
 for which it was designed, Judaism was undoubt- 
 edly better fitted to accomplish its purpose, than if 
 it had been conceived on the same plan with Chris- 
 tianity : we only say that it was not conceived on 
 the same plan. Its ultimate object, indeed, was the 
 same, — human progress; but it aimed to accom- 
 plish this object in another and, for the time, a 
 better way. The Jews were to be carried forward 
 in their moral and religious culture by the reflex 
 
 15* 
 
346 FAITH AND WORKS. 
 
 influence on their minds and hearts of an imposing 
 ritual, which meant much more than they were as 
 yet in a condition to comprehend, if stated in the 
 form of principles. Children in spiritual under- 
 standing, they were treated as children ; that is, 
 subjected to an outward discipline, which, whether 
 they could enter at first into its profound spiritual 
 import or not, was of such a nature that it could 
 hardly fail, however blindly and mechanically gone 
 through with, to react powerfully on their feelings 
 and imagination, and so keep alive among them a 
 sense of religion, and gradually form them to a 
 capacity for a higher and more spiritual revelation. 
 Mark, then, the radical distinction between the 
 Jewish peculiarity and the Christian peculiarity, — • 
 a distinction which holds as well in respect to the 
 moral as the ceremonial law. The Jew was ex- 
 pected to conform his life and worship to certain 
 externally imposed rules ; the Christian is expected 
 to accept and carry out certain internal principles. 
 With the Jew, the reforming power of his religion 
 acted from without inwardly ; with the Christian, the 
 reforming power of his religion acts from within 
 outwardly. The great question with the Jew was, 
 Have I done what is required? The great question 
 with the Christian is. Are my moral convictions, my 
 inward purposes and dispositions, my spirit and my 
 trust, what they ought to be ? In one word, the 
 
FAITH AND WORKS. 847 
 
 former was a dispensation of " works," the latter, 
 a dispensation of " faith," but both, equally and 
 alike, dispensations of obedience and of progress. 
 
 This being premised, it is easy to see why the 
 New Testament lays so much stress on faith^ often 
 representing it as the one thing needful, the sole, 
 indispensable condition of acceptance with God. 
 
 Sometimes it is stated thus : '' Believe on the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and 
 thine house." That is to say, " Put your trust in 
 him ; commit yourself wholly to his guidance ; re- 
 nounce all confidence in other teachers and leaders ; 
 and confide in him, and follow him." Obviously, 
 therefore, faith in this case is not meant to ex- 
 clude obedience, or to supersede its necessity : on 
 the contrary, it involves or supposes obedience, or 
 at least a disposition to obey in all things. To 
 make this clear, take a parallel case. A man in at- 
 tempting to traverse an unfrequented forest is be- 
 wildered and lost ; he does not know which way 
 to turn. You procure for him a trusty and ex- 
 perienced guide, and say : " Have faith in this guide ; 
 confide in him ; do as he advises, and go as he di- 
 rects, and you are safe." Here salvation is made 
 to depend, you will observe, on faith ^ on faith in a 
 guide ; but, I repeat, so far is this from excluding 
 obedience, or dispensing with its necessity, that it 
 is understood by all to involve or suppose it, or 
 
848 FAITH AND WOKKS. 
 
 to lead to it ; so that without a purpose at least 
 of obedience it cannot exist even as faith. What 
 if the traveller should say, "I have entire faith 
 in the guide ; " but still should refuse or neglect 
 to follow him? Would not all exclaim that this is 
 not the faith which saves ? Merely to believe that 
 the guide is able and willing to lead you to a place 
 of safety is nothing : you must actually follow him, 
 or you will never reach that place of safety. 
 
 Again, not the person, but the teachings of our 
 Lord, are sometimes made the objects of a saving 
 faith. Thus we are told : " For I am not ashamed 
 of the Gospel of Christ ; for it is the power of God 
 unto salvation to every one that believeth." That 
 is to say, it is the power of God unto salvation to 
 every one who confides in it ; who gives himself up to 
 it ; who accepts its revelations as realities, and there- 
 fore is affected by them as realities ; who takes the 
 view which the Gospel gives of the spiritual life and 
 the spiritual world into his inmost consciousness, and 
 governs himself accordingly in his inmost purposes 
 and thoughts. But faith in Christianity, thus under- 
 stood, supposes something more than a mere con- 
 viction that the system is trustworthy : it supposes 
 the practical exercise of this trust on our part, an act 
 of self-surrender, giving ourselves up to it ; just as a 
 merchant is said to have faith in a ship when he 
 embarks in it, or puts his property on board of it; 
 
FAITH AND WOEKS. 349 
 
 or a sick man in a new method of cure, when he 
 abandons all others, and trusts himself to that. The 
 sick man, however, takes the medicine. Nobody ex- 
 pects to be healed merely by believing in the efficacy 
 of a medicine, if he does not take it. For the same 
 reason the impotent in virtue must not expect ad- 
 vantage from faith in the remedies which the Gospel 
 proposes, if they do not also take these remedies ; 
 but to do this is to obey. 
 
 One word, now, on the apparent discrepancy be- 
 tween Paul and James on this subject. " Therefore 
 we conclude," says the former, *' that a man is justi- 
 fied by faith without the works of the law." By 
 " works of the law " we are not to understand, in 
 this place, what is commonly meant in discourses on 
 practical religion by " good works," that is, the act- 
 ing out of Christian principles, but a mere external 
 conformity to a prescribed rule of conduct. The doc- 
 trine is, that under the Christian dispensation men 
 are not justified and saved by a mere external con- 
 formity, however exact, to any externally imposed 
 law, however righteous and good. " Works," overt 
 actions, have no proper moral or religious worth, 
 unless they have their root in faith and love. It 
 is not enough that the hand obeys ; the will, the 
 heart, must also obey ; and this supposes an act of 
 self-surrender; and this, again, supposes faith. What 
 a man is inwardly, that is, in himself, and not what 
 
350 FAITH AND WORKS. 
 
 he is outwardly (except as it is the evidence, the 
 expression, the carrying out of what he is inwardly), 
 has weight with God. The heart to obey, the spirit 
 of obedience, that confidence and trust which begets 
 a willingness to be led, and which is all compre- 
 hended under the single term faith^ is the great 
 thing. " Man looketh on the outward appearance," 
 for it is by that only that he can judge his fellow- 
 man ; " but the Lord looketh on the heart," so that 
 if the heart, the disposition, be right, even though 
 no opportunity for manifesting it in outward action 
 should occur, the disposition alone will be accepted. 
 In one word, as in the case of Abraham before men- 
 tioned, the will is taken for the deed ; the spirit of 
 obedience for actual obedience ; a meek and trustful 
 self-surrender to Christian guidance, or faith alone, 
 for the works to which it leads. 
 
 Nay, more ; even when our faith is manifested 
 by our works, we are not saved, according to the 
 Gospel, by our outward works, but by the inward 
 principle from which they spring, by our faith: so 
 that here again we are saved, not by works, but by 
 faith. Without faith in Christian principles a man 
 may do many things which these principles sanc- 
 tion or require. Tlius, he may give largely to the 
 poor, or endow hospitals or colleges, which are cer- 
 tainly liberal acts, and yet be a stranger to the Chris- 
 tian principle of liberality ; but you would hardly 
 
FAITH AND WORKS. 351 
 
 say, in such cases, that he acts out a Christian prin- 
 ciple. You would hardly say that a man can act 
 out a principle which he does not feel ; or, again, 
 that he can truly feel a principle in which he does 
 not believe. Accordingly, the Gospel is conceived 
 on the plan of inducing faith in a higher set of prin- 
 ciples than that which the world acknowledges as 
 the necessary condition and prerequisite of a higher 
 form of character. Everything, therefore, has its root 
 in this faith. While this faith is alive, all is alive ; 
 when this faith is dead, all is dead ; and hence the 
 whole dispensation is not inaptly denominated by 
 the Apostle " the Law of Faith." 
 
 This is the doctrine of Paul. When rightly and 
 clearly apprehended, it will be seen not to conflict 
 with the prevailing opinion, that Christianity is almost 
 wholly a practical thing, and that the Christian salva- 
 tion depends on " righteousness and true holiness," 
 on conformity of heart and will with the Divine law. 
 But it is a doctrine, which, in certain states of the 
 public mind, is peculiarly liable to perversion, and 
 this perversion began to manifest itself in the Apos- 
 tolic Age, calling forth the earnest expostulations of 
 James in the chapter from which my text is taken. 
 " Ye see, then, how that by works a man is justified, 
 and not by faith only." Here it is plain, from the 
 examples adduced, that by " works " we are to 
 understand really good works, by which I mean, the 
 
352 FAITH AND WORKS. 
 
 acting out of Christian principles ; and the object 
 of the Apostle is to warn men against forsaking this 
 ground of hope, and building on a merely speculative 
 faith, or a dreamy, sentimental, sterile admiration 
 of our Lord's character and words. Still, the only 
 difference between the two Apostles is this : one re- 
 gards obedience in the inward principle from which 
 it starts, and the other in the outward act in which 
 it is consummated ; — both, however, making obedi- 
 ence, " righteousness and true holiness,'^ the ulti- 
 mate ground of salvation, the breath of eternal life. 
 Let me impress upon you the great practical lesson 
 to be gathered from the twofold aspect of the Apos- 
 tolic doctrine respecting faith and works. There are 
 times when, on account of the hollo wness and super- 
 ficialness of the public morals, we ought to insist, with 
 Paul, that works, apart from the living principle 
 of faith in the soul, are vain ; and, again, there are 
 times when, on account of the prevalent sentimental- 
 ism, mysticism, and morbid introversion of spirit, we 
 ought to insist, with James, " that faith without works 
 is dead." 
 
SALVATION BY HOPE. 
 
 FOB WE ARE SAVED BY HOPE. — Romans viu. 24. 
 
 The Gospel, as the term denotes, is glad tidings ; 
 — glad tidings to all, not excepting the chiefest of 
 sinners. No matter what may have been a man's 
 past life, if he is now sincerely disposed to turn unto 
 God, it holds out to him the promise of sympathy, 
 pardon, and help. It is a Divine dispensation of 
 encouragement. Its salvation is a salvation " by 
 hope." 
 
 To understand this doctrine, it will be necessary 
 to begin by considering generally what mankind stand 
 most in need of as a motive and means to that change 
 of heart and life on which salvation depends. 
 
 And, first, in case of hardened and abandoned sin- 
 ners. With respect to such men, at least, I beUeve the 
 impression is almost universal, that what they stand 
 most in need of is, to be thoroughly alarmed. The 
 preacher, it is said, must arouse them to a proper 
 sense of their danger, by an honest dealing with the 
 terrors of the law, by vivid pictures of the judgment 
 
354 SALVATION BY HOPE. 
 
 to come if they die impenitent. Undoubtedly this 
 is among the means which are appointed for reclaim- 
 ing bad men ; but that it is the only means, or the 
 means most likely to be effectual, or the means most 
 needed, is not so clear. The usual argument for 
 resorting to it, in preference to all others, is far from 
 being satisfactory. This argument is, that as bad 
 men, through the indurating effects of sin, have be- 
 come insensible to higher and better motives, they 
 must be moved, if moved at all, by a fear of God's 
 indignation and wrath. But those who insist thus 
 on the indurating effects of sin should remember that 
 these effects are nowhere more apparent than in re- 
 spect to the very motive in question. Sin hardens men, 
 I admit, against a sense of duty and a sense of shame ; 
 but it hardens them, if possible, still more against a 
 sense of any dangers dependent on what religion 
 threatens ; that is to say, against their spiritual dan- 
 gers. 
 
 For this reason, I am not surprised to find that the 
 two Christian sects which have distinguished them- 
 selves above all others for their successful dealing with 
 hardened and abandoned sinners, I mean the Mora- 
 vians and the Methodists, are remarkable for founding 
 religion, not on selfish fear, or on calculations of inter- 
 est or danger of any kind, but on hearts melted by a 
 sense of the unutterable love of God. It is also in 
 obedience to the same instinct of spiritual wisdom that 
 
SALVATION BY HOPE. 355 
 
 Howard and Elizabeth Fry, with the men and women 
 who have followed them in their mission to carry the 
 Gospel into prisons, and among convicted felons, are 
 found to have trusted almost exclusively to the power 
 of Christian sympathy, aided by a gentle and kind 
 manner, as a means of subduing those who feared 
 neither God nor man, neither death nor hell. Let 
 me add, that not more than forty years ago a con- 
 firmed drunkard was generally regarded as incorrig- 
 ible. At last it occurred to a few reformers that the 
 supposed incorrigibleness of the drunkard might be 
 owing, not to insensibility to his degradation, but to 
 distrust of his competency to escape from it ; in other 
 words, that he did not stand in need of menace, or 
 even of rebuke or warning, so much as of sympathy 
 and encouragement. Here was a great moral dis- 
 covery, and hence, in no small measure, the new life 
 in the Temperance cause, and the marvellous success 
 which has attended it. 
 
 But if this is true of hardened and abandoned sin- 
 ners, how much more so of all such as still have their 
 misgivings and relentings, whose sin consists, for the 
 most part, in halting between two opinions, not hav- 
 ing made up their minds what course to take, or 
 having made them up only so far as this, that they 
 will become religious at some future day, but not yet. 
 Speaking generally, such persons do not need to be 
 convinced that religion is the best and only safe 
 
356 SALVATION BY HOPE. 
 
 course. When they read the life of an enlightened 
 and consistent Christian, or meet with one in their 
 intercourse with society, they cannot help wishing 
 that they were just such a man ; that they had 
 his faith and his works and his prospects. But 
 there are obstacles, discouragements in the way. 
 They think it would be harder work for them to be 
 Christians than for most men ; that it is beyond their 
 reach, at least for the present ; that it would be van- 
 ity or presumption in them to make the attempt. 
 Now, I ask, how are these obstacles, all consisting 
 radically in a want of confidence, most likely to be 
 removed or overcome ? Clearly and incontestably as 
 the Gospel aims to do it ; — by inspiring new confi- 
 dence, by holding out the promise of sympathy and 
 help ; by a divinely authenticated dispensation of 
 encouragement. " We are saved by hope." 
 
 But if I were to stop here, half of my purpose would 
 be left unaccomplished. All will agree, I doubt not, 
 that life without hope from any quarter would be 
 insupportable. Still, some may ask, why look to 
 religion, why look to Christianity for this hope ? 
 Why not hope each one in the strength of his own 
 right arm, or in what the world has to promise, or 
 simply in the righteousness of his claim ? 
 
 To answer these questions intelligibly and satisfac- 
 torily, it will be necessary to speak of the nature and 
 excellence of the Cliristian hope. 
 
SALVATION BY HOPE. 357 
 
 111 the first place, the Christian hope is not limited 
 and bounded, like all worldly, irreligious, infidel hopes, 
 by what man can do. In a storm at sea we naturally 
 and properly look to the pilot ; if dangerously sick 
 ourselves, or if our friends are dangerously sick, we 
 naturally and properly look to the physician ; in civil 
 troubles we naturally and properly look to the ex- 
 perienced and trustworthy statesman. But we know 
 beforehand that the pilot, the physician, the states- 
 man can do so much and no more ; and when this 
 point is reached, to whom are we to look? There 
 are situations, and they too of not infrequent occur- 
 rence, in which the offer of human aid, however 
 kindly intended, seems almost like mockery. This 
 may not be my situation, or yours, at the present 
 moment ; but it will be sooner or later, — before 
 many years, perhaps before many days ; and what 
 shall we look to then ? If our hope is in man alone, 
 it is plainly one which is crumbling, day by day, into 
 dust. Unless we recognize the being, and trust in 
 the presence and agency of a Higher Power, the hour 
 is coming, every setting sun is bringing us one day 
 nearer to it, when the soul will be without hope. 
 Despair will take the place of hope. Here also it 
 is of importance to observe, that, with persons of 
 reflection and forethought, whatever is seen to end 
 in despair, begins in despair. 
 
 Another distinction of the Christian hope con- 
 
358 SALVATION BY HOPE. 
 
 sists in its not being limited and bounded, as all 
 worldly, irreligious, and infidel hopes must be, by 
 the present life. Hope, to be hope, must not be 
 liable to be swept away by the very vicissitudes 
 under which it is to sustain and cheer us. The 
 first Christians shared but the common fate of 
 earnest and devoted men in difficult times ; yet 
 one of them could say : " If in this life only we 
 have hope in Christ, we are of all men most misera- 
 ble." The hope ^' in this life only" is one which 
 plays along the pathways of youth and wealth and 
 power, but leaves the wronged and the forsaken to 
 weep and die. Go with this hope into the abodes 
 of extreme penury and want ; go with it to the 
 bedside of one who is suffering under an incurable 
 malady. It may answer well enough for the house 
 of feasting and merriment, where hope is not wanted ; 
 but go with it where hope is most wanted, go with 
 it to the house of mourning, where death has just 
 stricken down the joy or the stay of that now deso- 
 late home. What can it do ? Almost the entire 
 language of condolence under grief, hardship, and 
 oppression is borrowed from the Bible, and owes its 
 significance and force to the Christian doctrine that 
 " the sufferings of this present time are not worthy 
 to be compared with the glory which shall be re- 
 vealed in us." Even those who do not profess to 
 be religious themselves, participate more or less in 
 
SALVATION BY HOPE. 359 
 
 the benefits of the common hope, — through a com- 
 mon sympathy, if not through a common conviction. 
 The soothing effects of the prayer or the hymn 
 reach every heart. 
 
 A third circumstance distinguishing the Christian 
 hope is, that, unlike all worldly, irreligious, infidel 
 hopes, it does not profess to measure itself by the 
 real or supposed deserts of the individual, but by 
 the boundless goodness and mercy of the Supreme 
 Disposer. Some preachers are accustomed to speak 
 of human nature in the most disparaging terms, rep- 
 resenting man's best services as no better than a 
 hollow pretence, an outside show, a false glitter. 
 If they speak thus from conviction of its truth, not 
 a word is to be said ; every one must preach what 
 he believes. But if they think by rhetorical exag- 
 gerations of human depravity to inculcate humility 
 and self-abasement, it would be well for them to 
 consider whether language of this kind is as likely 
 to humble men as it is to degrade and discourage 
 them ; whether it as likely to rouse them to ex- 
 ertion, as it is to suggest a good, or at least a 
 plausible excuse for not so much as making the 
 attempt. For this reason, I have no wish to join 
 in any sweeping and indiscriminate repudiation of 
 human virtue. Still I think all must agree that 
 this virtue is too imperfect even in the best men, 
 and that in most men it is alloyed and offset by 
 
360 SALVATION BY HOPE. 
 
 too many vices or failings, to authorize them to ex- 
 pect much on the score of absolute merit. Hope, 
 therefore, that is founded on merit alone is not 
 suited to the actual condition of mankind. Accord- 
 ingly the Gospel is conceived on the plan of providing, 
 not only recompense for the righteous, but also en- 
 couragement and hope for sinners. It begins with 
 us as sinners ; it addresses us as sinners, and sin- 
 ners we are ; and the excellency of " the hope set 
 before us" is, that there is nothing in our sins to 
 exclude us from it, if we repent and turn to God. 
 Under the Christian dispensation it is impiety 
 to despair of God's mercy on account of our past 
 sins ; for this would be to suppose these sins to be 
 greater than His mercy. Of course, when we com- 
 pare what we are and what we can do, with what 
 we hope to receive, we cannot fail to be struck 
 with the infinite disparity ; but neither is this just 
 ground for misgivings. What is promised is to be 
 regarded, not as being of the nature of wages for 
 work done, but as being of the nature of a gift on 
 condition of obedience ; and in this character, as a 
 gift^ it takes its proportions, not from our poor 
 earnings, but from the munificence of the Giver. 
 
 These, then, are the characteristics by which the 
 Christian hope is distinguished from all worldly, 
 irreligious, infidel hopes. It is not bounded and 
 limited by human weakness, by the narrow scope 
 
SALVATION BY HOPE. 361 
 
 of this life, or the poor deserts of the individual, 
 but measures itself by the possible succors of the 
 Almighty, by the range of eternity, and by the 
 infinite benignity and clemency of our heavenly 
 Father. 
 
 Who, it may be asked in conclusion, does not 
 feel his need of this hope ? I speak to many who 
 are not unhappy now ; but I speak to none who 
 are not unhappy at times. This thought should 
 chasten our feelings of confidence and security even 
 when we happen to be free from pain and sorrow ; 
 and reconcile us to them when they come, as the 
 common and inevitable lot. Above all, it should 
 lead us to put ourselves into a condition to meet 
 the disastrous vicissitudes of human life with com- 
 posure and dignity. There is, I know, a kind of 
 philosophy^ which is sometimes set forward as a 
 substitute for religion in such cases. This philoso- 
 phy will tell you, that everything is determined 
 and fixed by an inexorable fate ; that it is mere 
 weakness and folly, therefore, to tremble and shrink 
 at what is inevitable, — to give way to regrets and 
 apprehensions which can be of no avail. As if men 
 shrank from evil because they expected to gain by 
 such conduct ; as if it were a voluntary thing with 
 them whether to feel dread, or not. Discipline, 
 habit, this philosophy, if you please, may help them 
 to conceal their dread, and make it consistent with 
 
 16 
 
362 ^ SALVATION BY HOPE. 
 
 presence of mind, and a manly composure ; it may 
 make them still, but the stillness is that of despair, 
 and not of hope. The groans are not there, but 
 the torment is there, and not the less because the 
 usual ^igns of it 'are suppressed. In one respect re- 
 ligion, I admit, resembles this philosophy ; it teaches 
 us, like this philosophy, that everything is deter- 
 mined and fixed ; but here the resemblance ends. 
 Religion teaches us that everything is determined 
 and fixed, not by a blind and inexorable fate, but 
 by an infinitely wise and good Being ; and here is 
 ground for confidence and implicit trust, — a reason 
 why we should put away our fears ; — not, indeed, 
 because everything is determined and fixed, so that 
 our fears can be of no avail, but because every- 
 thing is so determined and fixed that all will come 
 right at last, leaving us no occasion for fear. Hence 
 it is the believer alone who is able to say, " Why 
 art thou cast down, my soul ? and why art thou 
 disquieted within me ? Hope thou in God ; for I 
 shall yet praise him, who is the health of my counte- 
 nance, and my God." 
 
 Again, who would not cultivate this hope ? As 
 religious dispositions are not of this world, they are 
 not likely to spring up spontaneously under worldly 
 appliances, amidst worldly avocations. Religion, re- 
 ligion at least in its highest forms, is a delicate exotic, 
 which must not be expected to grow wild in the 
 
SALVATION BY HOPE. 863 
 
 fields ; it must be nurtured with effort and care ; it 
 must be sheltered from all ungenial influences, and 
 surrounded, as far as may be, with the atmosphere, so 
 to speak, of its native heaven. Why wonder that our 
 affections are not set on things above, while almost 
 everything we are saying and doing tends to set them 
 on things on the earth ? Why wonder that we do not 
 find the pleasure and satisfaction in religion of which 
 others tell, if accustomed to think of it only at re- 
 mote intervals, and then chiefly as a law to curb our 
 passions, or as an avenger to punish our misdeeds ? 
 We must cultivate^ we must assiduously cultivate a 
 temper of cheerful, grateful, childlike trust in our 
 heavenly Father, by acts of duty and humanity, by 
 prayer and all holy exercises, and, above all, by mak- 
 ing ourselves familiar with the pure, meek, loving 
 spirit of Jesus, which will generate in us not only 
 righteousness, but that peculiar form of righteous- 
 ness whereby the Christian is known. In this way 
 Christ will be formed in us the hope of glory ; " for 
 the law made nothing perfect, but the bringing in of 
 a better hope did, by the which we draw nigh unto 
 God." It may be said, that to be without this hope, 
 is to fail in happiness ; not in duty. But we should 
 consider, that if it is not to fail in duty, it is to fail 
 in the motives to duty, which in effect will amount 
 to the same thing. Hence, as Jeremy Taylor has 
 said, " a man may be damned for despairing to be 
 saved." 
 
864 SALVATION BY HOPE. 
 
 Finally, who would knowingly and willingly dis- 
 appoint or frustrate this hope ? Because a man has 
 hope in Christ it does not follow that this hope is 
 well founded in his case. Our very hope may perish ; 
 nay, it will do so, unless we establish it in righteous- 
 ness, and unless " we show the same diligence, to 
 the full assurance of hope, unto the end." 
 
THE DIFFERENCES AMONG CHRISTIANS NO 
 OBJECTION TO CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 IS CHRIST DIVIDED 1 — 1 Corinthians i. 13. 
 
 The differences among Christians are frequently 
 referred to at the present day. To some they are 
 a reason for scepticism ; to some, an excuse for in- 
 difference ; to some, an occasion for cynical and con- 
 temptuous reflections on truth and human nature. 
 
 To understand this subject aright, it will be neces- 
 sary to begin by considering, how it is that men 
 come to differ in morals and religion. 
 
 Almost every action, character, or doctrine, on 
 which we are called upon to make up an opinion, 
 is more or less complex ; that is to say, has more 
 than one side or aspect. This being the case, if one 
 man regards it on one side, under one aspect, and 
 another regards it on another side, and under an- 
 other aspect, their impressions wiU be different, at 
 least they ought to be. It does not follow that 
 one is true, and the other false : both may be 
 true ; that is, just and faithful representations of 
 the same reality, only under different aspects. 
 
366 DIFFERENCES AMONG CHRISTIANS. 
 
 You know how it is with views of a church, or 
 palace, or mountain, taken from different positions. 
 The views themselves are different ; nevertheless 
 they are views of the same thing, and all of them 
 faithful representations of the reality, though not 
 of the same side of it. Yery probably, if a man 
 has always been accustomed to regard the object 
 from one position alone, he will hardly recognize it 
 in any of the views except in those taken from the 
 same, or a near position. For this reason one man 
 may recognize the object in one of the views, and 
 not in the rest ; another man may recognize the ob- 
 ject in another of the views, and not in the rest ; 
 and so on. It is not that the rest are not as faith- 
 ful and true representations of the object ; only they 
 are not representations of that aspect of the object, 
 of which alone the individual in question is cog- 
 nizant. 
 
 This illustration will help us to account for the 
 origin of those differences in morals, which have 
 been thought by some to throw everything into 
 doubt. Thus it has been said, that not a vice can 
 be named which has not been practised in some 
 ages, and in some countries, as a virtue. For ex- 
 ample, assassination, infanticide, robbery, have all 
 been committed, in certain states of society, without 
 apparent compunction, — nay, sometimes with the 
 countenance and support of public opinion, as being 
 
DIFFEEENCES AMONG" CHRISTIANS. 367 
 
 necessary, useful, or heroic acts. Ethical writers, in 
 order to account for these anomalies, have been in 
 the habit of ascribing them to differences of culture, 
 and differences of physical and social circumstances ; 
 and these, doubtless, are among the principal re- 
 mote causes which conspire to bring about the re- 
 sults in question. But how do they bring them 
 about ? Simply and solely by leading men to regard 
 the action to be pronounced upon under a particu- 
 lar point of view, and under that alone. In this 
 way retaliation for wrong, under the form of assassi- 
 nation and revenge, in a rude state of society, or 
 in very unsettled times, may come to be regarded 
 as a kind of wild justice^ and the only justice ac- 
 cessible, and so be approved ; for this certainly is 
 one of the aspects of such actions at such times, 
 and it may be the only one which strikes minds 
 thus situated. And so of the other cases. I am 
 not aware of a single vicious action which was ever 
 held as right, unless, in the circumstances, it really 
 had a good or plausible side, on which alone, from 
 some cause, it was contemplated, the whole action 
 being judged by this one side. 
 
 The same account is also to be given of the origin 
 of most of our differences in religious doctrine when 
 sincerely entertained. Take, for instance, what is 
 perhaps the most fundamental difference of all, the 
 different opinions which have prevailed respecting 
 
368 DIFFERENCES AMONG CHRISTIANS. 
 
 human nature. Who does not know that man actu- 
 ally appears under all these various aspects ? — 
 sometimes but little lower than the angels, and 
 sometimes but little better than a fiend. Hence the 
 most extreme and contradictory views on this sub- 
 ject are so far well founded as this, that they are 
 faithful and true representations of real phases of 
 human nature, the error consisting not in miscon- 
 ceiving or misrepresenting some single phase, but 
 in judging our whole nature by that alone. 
 
 We arrive, then, at this conclusion : real and 
 sincere differences in morals and religion originate 
 for the most part in the fact, that men regard the 
 matter in question from different positions, and of 
 course under different aspects, each one judging the 
 whole matter by that particular aspect of it which 
 happens to be turned towards him. And if so, 
 then it follows, that what we call errors are not so 
 much false as partial views of the reality. A cele- 
 brated French writer has said, " that, if we except 
 the common maxims of morality, there is no one 
 truth which can boast of having been so generally 
 adopted, or through such a succession of ages, as 
 certain ridiculous and pernicious errors ^ * The 
 statement has been objected to as an exaggeration ; 
 but even if it were not, to what would it amount ? 
 Simply to this, that thus far partial views, espe- 
 
 * Condorcet in his Eloge of Euler. 
 
DIFFERENCES AMONG CHRISTIANS. 369 
 
 ciallj of large and complicated subjects, have pre- 
 vailed more generally, and more extensively, than 
 complete and perfect views. 
 
 Such being the origin and nature of most relig- 
 ious differences, it will next be in order to inquire 
 on what grounds they can be regarded as a reason 
 or occasion for sceptical, or cynical, or desponding 
 thoughts. 
 
 In the first place, do they afford us any reason or 
 pretext for denying the trustworthiness or compe- 
 tency of the human faculties? Certainly not. If, 
 indeed, as the language sometimes used on this sub- 
 ject would seem to imply, we actually saw differently, 
 one man from another, and the same man from him- 
 self at different times, there would be some ground 
 for despair of the human faculties. But we do 
 not see differently. From what has been said it ap- 
 pears, that, though we receive different impressions 
 from the same object, it is not because we see differ- 
 ently, but because we look at different sides of the 
 object, and regard it under different lights, or from 
 different positions. Could we be induced to regard 
 the object under precisely the same lights and aspects, 
 •we should doubtless see it alike ; and better still, 
 could we be induced to regard the object under aU 
 lights and aspects, we should doubtless not only see 
 it alike, but see it as it is. 
 
 Accordingly, the differences among Christians are 
 
 16* X 
 
S70 DIFFERENCES AMONG CHRISTIANS. 
 
 not to be construed into evidence of the incompetency 
 of the human faculties in themselves considered, but 
 only of their partial application. This, however, it 
 may be argued, is merely to give another explanation 
 of the evil, without removing or lessening it ; the 
 partial application always existing will render the 
 conflicting views of the different sects alike unsatis- 
 factory and worthless, and mutually destructive of 
 each other. 
 
 But why assume that the partial application will 
 always exist ? When we begin our inquiries respect- 
 ing any subject, we must begin, of course, by looking 
 at it on one side : our views must be partial at first ; 
 but it does not follow that they must always continue 
 so. What, indeed, is progress in any inquiry but the 
 gradual enlargement of our views, which supposes 
 them to become less and less partial ? And hence the 
 generally acknowledged fact, that thought and study, 
 a wider observation and a more generous culture, tend 
 to dissolve differences and bring men together. 
 
 To this some may object the permanent existence 
 of religious sects, retaining all their jealousies and 
 antipathies against each other. But it should be 
 remembered that these sects exist in a twofold char- 
 acter, as parties striving for power, and as schools 
 of theology seeking the truth ; and that it is only 
 in ihQ latter capacity that we are concerned witli 
 tliuiu hr:?. Now. the viae and progress of sects, con- 
 
DIFFERENCES AMONG CHRISTIANS. 371 
 
 sidered as schools of theology, would seem to be as 
 follows: A number of persons are led by various 
 causes — some historical, some local, some personal 
 — to concur in regarding Christianity from a particu- 
 lar position, — on one of its sides, and therefore under 
 one of its various aspects. The consequence is, that, 
 though the view is a partial one, it is one in which the 
 whole sect agree ; differing, at the same time, from 
 all other sects, who, in a similar way, have been led 
 to adopt and agree in some other partial view. Now, 
 we say, that, as knowledge advances, there is nothing 
 to hinder these sects, any more than so many indi- 
 viduals, from making their \dews less and less partial, 
 which will have the effect to bring them nearer and 
 nearer together ; for thougli partial views of truth 
 are many and various, truth comprehended in its 
 entireness is one. Nay, more ; what we thus see 
 might take place, is taking place continvially ; in some 
 cases, complete amalgamations of sects ; in others, 
 unions and alliances for certain purposes ; and even 
 where, for political reasons, the old names and organ- 
 izations are strenuously maintained, and with them 
 some of the old jealousies and antipathies, it is sel- 
 dom without some abatement of the rigor of the old 
 doctrine. The Calvinism of to-day is a very differ- 
 ent thing from Calvin's Calvinism. 
 
 To those, therefore, who think to find arguments 
 for scepticism or despair in the differences and divis- 
 
372 DIFFERENCES AMONG CHRISTIANS. 
 
 ions of Christians, and who are ready to pronounce 
 the partial views which prevail as unsatisfactory, 
 worthless, and mutually destructive of each other, the 
 answer is plain and conclusive. In the first place, 
 even the most partial of these views are worth a great 
 deal ; for they are partial views of an all-important 
 truth, and as such contain much that is enduring and 
 eternal. Again, as the error of these views grows 
 mainly out of their being partial, it is one which 
 must be expected to pertam to the first stages of 
 every inquiry, but gradually disappear as the inquiry 
 goes on. And, finally, though it is too much to hope 
 that the time will ever come on earth when all re- 
 ligious differences will be healed, or, in other words, 
 when the multitude of partial views will be swallowed 
 up and lost in a single all-comprehensive view, still 
 we are to consider that this knowing " in part," and 
 prophesying " in part," and the trials and responsi- 
 bilities which pertain to such a condition, may be 
 of advantage while it lasts, — may be essential to the 
 discipline which is to fit us for that world, where 
 " that which is in part shall be done away." 
 
 Admitting all this, however, it may still be con- 
 tended that I have not touched, as yet, the real 
 " stone of stumbling and rock of offence ; " which is 
 not these differences and divisions, simply considered, 
 but the controversies to wliicli they have given birth. 
 I ask, then, what there is in these controversies^ — I 
 
DIFFEEENCES AMONG CHKISTIANS. 373 
 
 do not say to condemn, for, considering how tliey are 
 often conducted, there is enough in them, Heaven 
 knows, to condemn, — but to authorize, or invite, or 
 excuse, in lookers on, either indifference or unbelief? 
 
 Certainly of themselves they do not argue indiffer- 
 ence or unbelief ; but the contrary. An age of con- 
 troversy is pre-eminently an age of faith ; a man is 
 not likely to dispute earnestly unless he believes in 
 something, and attaches importance to it. Luther 
 was the greatest disputant of his day ; but he did not 
 speak or write or act like one who looked on religion 
 as a sham or a dream or a shifting cloud. These 
 controversies, by the manner in which they are car- 
 ried on, may sometimes show the distemper of the 
 times ; they are symptomatic, it may be, of moral dis- 
 orders, but they prove, at any rate, that men are not 
 spiritually dead. 
 
 Besides, how is it in other things ? Name, if you 
 can, a single interesting and important subject of in- 
 quiry which has not given occasion to controversy, 
 and led, in the language of the Apostle, to " envying, 
 and strife, and divisions." At this moment the world 
 is about as much divided, and, may I not add ? about as 
 much estranged, on scientific and political and pliil- 
 anthropic questions as on religious questions. But do 
 men hence infer that there is no such thing as truth 
 in any of these matters, or that we have no faculties 
 to discover it ? God forbid ! It is often in the sharp 
 
374 DIFFERENCES AMONG CHRISTIANS. 
 
 collision of many minds that the sacred spark is 
 struck out. Controversy, with all its objectionable 
 liabilities, is nevertheless the great stimulant and 
 purifier of thought, the appointed means by which the 
 mind struggles on in every pursuit, and communicates 
 and establishes the progress it has made. 
 
 Obviously, therefore, it cannot be controversy, as 
 such, that is objected to in this connection, but some- 
 thing peculiar to religious controversy. 
 
 In the first place, it is said that controversy is well 
 enough where it really has the efiect to help forward 
 the truth, or to diffuse and establish it ; but in religion 
 it does neither, leaving every question just where it 
 found it. I reply, that even if this were so, it would 
 not be to the purpose : it would follow, indeed, that 
 controversy is of no use in religion, and ought to be 
 avoided ; but it would not follow, that religion itself 
 is of no use, or that controversy has made it of less 
 use or less certain. But the whole statement is 
 erroneous. There are those, who, from extreme dis- 
 taste for speculation, or for want of what is called 
 speculative power, are fond of admitting the advances 
 made by the experimental sciences, but still contend 
 that the speculative sciences are just where they were 
 when men first began to think. But this doctrine, 
 an extravagance at best, when applied to the under- 
 standing of Christianity, becomes manifestly absurd ; 
 for here we have to do, not only with speculation, 
 
DIFFERENCES AMONG CHEISTIANS. 375 
 
 but with history and criticism. Who has yet to learn 
 the invaluable services of discussion and controversy 
 in settling the laws of evidence on which the genu- 
 ineness and authenticity of the Sacred Books depend, 
 and the laws of interpretation by which their import 
 is determined ? To discussion and controversy we 
 also owe it, that the Christian doctrines generally 
 have been unfolded, cleared up, and re-stated. Even 
 where the old terms are to a certain extent retained, 
 discussion and controversy have compelled the resort 
 to new explications more in accordance with the ad- 
 vanced state of society and human intelligence. 
 
 Again ; religious controversy is objected to because 
 of its asperities, and spirit of denunciation, which 
 on such a subject are peculiarly odious, creating in 
 some minds an invincible disgust for religion itself. 
 That religious controversy, even among Christians, 
 sometimes assumes the character here given to it, I 
 am sorry to be obliged to confess ; but it is easy to 
 see that it is not because Christians are Christians, 
 but because Christians are men^ having the weak- 
 nesses and imperfections of men. Besides, the very 
 intemperance of the controversy proves thus much 
 at least, that there is something in the subject by 
 which men are powerfully moved. Does party spirit 
 run highest when there is nothing at stake ? When 
 the question is one of life and death, — of eternal life 
 and eternal death, — we can hardly expect that well- 
 
376 DIFFERENCES AMONG CHRISTIANS. 
 
 disposed persons will always stop to measure and 
 exactly balance their words. Nay, this spirit of 
 denunciation, for which so much disgust is felt or 
 affected, — I trust, after what has been said, I shall 
 not be suspected of going too far, when I say, that 
 it admits of an explanation less dishonorable to 
 society and human nature, than the opposite vice 
 of indifferentism. As we have shown, men take 
 different sides in religion, because they view it on 
 different sides. What they see, they really see ; and 
 by gazing on it intently they come at length to see it 
 so plainly as to conclude, that those who do not see 
 it as they do must be wilfully blind. They denounce 
 them, therefore, not as rejecting this or that particu- 
 lar exposition of truth, but as being enemies of truth 
 itself. 
 
 Once more. A vague notion exists, I believe, in 
 some minds, that the honor of God is somehow impli- 
 cated in and compromised by the disgraceful alterca- 
 tions to which Christianity has given birth. The fact 
 that he does not interfere to suppress them creates 
 a feeling of uneasiness and distrust, as if the revela- 
 tion were not in reality from him. Such persons 
 would do well to remember that God gives us truth, 
 as he gives us everything else, not to our acceptance, 
 but to our acquisition. Even the truths of revelation 
 are expected to do us as much good by exercising our 
 fairness of mind, and our love of truth, in the accept- 
 
DIFFERENCES AMONG CHRISTIANS. 877 
 
 ance and interpretation of his Word, as by the light 
 they give. Consult the analogies of nature. In the 
 legislation of Heaven, there is nothing corresponding 
 to Acts of Uniformity. Reflection, and a proper 
 understanding of the world and human nature must 
 convince all, I think, that these dissensions and con- 
 troversies, though an evil as often conducted, are yet 
 necessary to balance or expel still greater evils. Cer- 
 tain it is, that there never has been so little real 
 religion in the Church, nor so many scandalous ex- 
 cesses and immoralities, as in times when controversy 
 was hushed. In our own day what has led men 
 to search the Scriptures with such intense interest, 
 what has moved them to engage in many noble 
 enterprises, what has led to increased watchfulness, 
 decorum, and fidelity in ministers and private Chris- 
 tains ? I cannot help thinking, that among the 
 causes which have brought about what is most bright 
 and promising in the present aspect of things, a high 
 place should be assigned to our contentions, and, I 
 may even add, to the jealousies and rivalships which 
 these contentions have engendered. These are not, 
 perhaps, the highest or the purest motives from which 
 a man can act ; but it is certainly better that we 
 should be " provoked " to love and good works, to 
 useful and noble exertion, even by such motives, 
 rather than be given up to indifference, self-indul- 
 gence, and a general laxity of manners. 
 
378 DIFFERENCES AMONG CHEISTIANS. 
 
 Still, the great practical difficulty, some may insist, 
 remains : amidst this multitude of partial and discord- 
 ant views, which are we to adopt ? To say that we 
 should " prove all things and hold fast that which 
 is good," is a sufficient answer to theologians ; but 
 only a few are theologians : others, that is, the bulk 
 of Christians, are not in a condition to " prove all 
 things." Neither will it do to say, that we should 
 select what is common to all these views, and hold 
 to that. For who is to tell us what is common to 
 
 i 
 
 all these views ? and who knows but that what is 
 common to them all to-day, may have to submit to 
 modification to-morrow, as other and more extreme 
 views may be disclosed ? Besides, suppose that we 
 have obtained what is common to all views, and that 
 this is absolutely true, it is nevertheless but the skele- 
 ton of truth, without life or power. To the question, 
 then. Which among the various partial and discordant 
 views you are to adopt, this is my answer, — Adopt 
 7/our own; hold fast your own. Allowing others 
 to have their views, be faithful and just to your 
 own view ; endeavoring, of course, to enlarge it from 
 day to day, but adhering to it, meanwhile, and rever- 
 encing it, as one view at least of truth, and of that 
 side of truth which is turned towards you, and which, 
 therefore, you must be presumed to be most con- 
 cerned to know. 
 
 Above all, remember that, though ive are divided, 
 
DIFFERENCES AMONG CHRISTIANS. 379 
 
 Christ is not divided. We all drink from the same 
 " Spiritual Rock," and that Rock is Christ. There 
 is a living tie of faith, submission, and love which 
 binds us all, if not to one another, at least to one and 
 the same living Head. Again I say, though we are 
 divided, Christ is not divided ; and this is our hope ; 
 ^' an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and 
 which entereth into that within the vail." Our views 
 are still partial, and therefore discordant ; but we 
 must believe that they will become less and less so, 
 for they are views of Him who " is the same yesterday, 
 to-day, and forever." What we know not here, we 
 shall know hereafter: the day is coming when, for 
 those who love Christ sincerely, that which is in part 
 shall be done away, and they shall know even as they 
 are known ; and there shall be one fold and one 
 Shepherd. 
 
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 AND I SAW THE DEAD, SMALL AND GREAT, STAND BEFORE GOD : 
 AND THE BOOKS WERE OPENED I AND ANOTHER BOOK WAS 
 OPENED, WHICH IS THE BOOK OP LIFE : AND THE DEAD WERE 
 JUDGED OUT OP THOSE THINGS WHICH WERE WRITTEN IN THE 
 BOOKS, ACCORDING TO THEIR WORKS. — Eevelation XX. 12. 
 
 It belongs to man, in which he would seem to 
 differ essentially from the inferior animals, to make 
 himself and his own thoughts an object of thought ; 
 not only to know what he is doing, but to be able 
 to review his conduct and compare it with an ideal 
 standard of expediency and right ; in one word, to 
 call himself to account. Not only is he able to do 
 this, but through his intellectual and moral constitu- 
 tion it is forced on him as a practical necessity. In 
 every human mind, according to its measure of activ- 
 ity and self-consciousness, this process of self-judgment 
 is continually going on ; and no small part of our 
 happiness and misery on earth is traceable to it, — 
 that is to say, to the pleasures of self-approbation, 
 and the pains of remorse. There is, therefore, an 
 
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 381 
 
 important sense in which the whole of human life 
 is one continued Day of Judgment. 
 
 Moreover, the self-judgment here referred to is un- 
 derstood and felt to be of an authority and sanc- 
 tion higher than that of man. We cannot shake off 
 the conviction that there is a divine, as well as a hu- 
 man, element in conscience. The opinion which we 
 form as to what is right in any particular instance, 
 is a mere human opinion. It may be true, and it 
 may be false ; one thing to-day, and another thing 
 to-morrow. But the sense of obligation under which 
 we are all laid to judge ourselves by some acknowl- 
 edged standard of right, and to bring ourselves into 
 conformity to it as we best can, is not human. It 
 does not depend on our own will. It is the decree 
 of our nature ; and our nature is the decree of 
 God. It is the voice of God speaking to us through 
 the human faculties, ordained by him for that pur- 
 pose. Wlio can believe that God has so made us, 
 that we cannot help judging ourselves by the law 
 of right, without believing, at the same time, that 
 he intended us to be judged, and rewarded or pun- 
 ished according to that law ? 
 
 On looking round, however, we see that this law 
 is very far from being universally applied, or fully 
 carried out in the present life. Nothing is easier 
 than to say, that virtue is its own reward, and vice 
 its own punishment. So perhaps it would be, if the 
 
382 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 natural and legitimate tendencies of virtue and vice 
 were never obstructed, or turned aside ; but, as 
 things go in this world, we know that in point of 
 fact they are obstructed and turned aside in a 
 thousand ways ; and the consequence is, that in 
 cases without number the wicked prosper, and the 
 righteous are trodden down. Let no one think to 
 shake this conclusion by insisting that the tenden- 
 cies of virtue and vice, referred to above, are natural 
 and eternal, whilst the obstacles to their becoming 
 effect in this world are accidental and temporary. 
 It is enough for the argument to know, that the 
 obstacles in question, whether accidental and tem- 
 porary or not, will last as long as this life lasts. 
 Thus much being conceded, it follows incontestably, 
 that, if there is ever to be a perfectly righteous 
 retribution, we must look for it beyond the grave. 
 Clement of Rome has handed down a tradition iu 
 the Church, that the Apostle Peter was so much 
 impressed by this view of the subject as to be in 
 the habit of exclaiming, " God is just ; therefore, 
 the soul is immortal." 
 
 By such natural intimations as these, almost every 
 people, with or without the aid of revelation, have 
 been led to entertain, with more or less distinctness 
 and confidence, the presentiment of " a judgment to 
 come." Even in Homer there are unmistakable 
 traces of a popular belief in a future state of ex- 
 
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 383 
 
 istence, where the fate of the individual is made to 
 turn, more or less, on his previous character, and 
 especially on his conduct towards the gods. The 
 same is also laid down as a practical doctrine of great 
 moment by the best among the pagan philosophers 
 and moralists ; and sometimes, as in the apologue 
 of Erus the Pamphylian, given in Plato's Republic, 
 in language bearing a striking resemblance to that 
 used four hundred years afterwards in the New 
 Testament. A brave man, having fallen in battle, 
 was permitted to return to the earth on the twelfth 
 day, in order to warn the living by a revelation of 
 what he had seen. He had seen the dead arraigned, 
 and when the judges, to borrow the words of the 
 apologue, " gave judgment, they commanded the just 
 to go on the right hand, and upwards through the 
 heaven, having fitted marks on the front of those 
 that had been judged ; but the unjust they com- 
 manded to the left, and downwards, and these like- 
 wise had behind them marks of all that they had 
 done." 
 
 There are those, I am aware, who make no ac- 
 count of pagan notions of a future retribution, on 
 the ground that they neither amounted to a proper 
 faith, nor had the influence of a proper faith. We 
 are told, for example, that Cicero, though he in- 
 sists on the doctrine in his philosophical writings, 
 takes occasion in more than one instance to deride 
 
384 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 or disown it in private correspondence with his 
 friends. The argument, however, is not of much 
 weight ; for, in the first place, what Cicero derides 
 and disowns is often, not the fact of a future retri- 
 bution, but the popular superstitions respecting it ; 
 in the second place, even if his misgivings occa- 
 sionally go deeper, is it without precedent that 
 very good and pious men should be subject at times 
 to moods, during which they can hardly be said to 
 believe in anything ? and, lastly, the individual se- 
 lected as a representative may be objected to, for 
 it has never been understood that Cicero was a 
 very good, and much less a very pious or religious 
 man, even for the age in which he lived. If, then, 
 a still broader ground should be taken ; if it 
 should be contended that the life of pagans cannot 
 be reconciled with a sincere belief in a righteous 
 retribution, I freely admit the difficulty : but it is 
 a difficulty which does not end with the pagans. 
 I ask you to reconcile, if you can, the actual life 
 of Christendom itself with the general acceptance 
 of that doctrine. Probably the solution of the diffi- 
 culty is the same in both cases. As a general rule, 
 men do not act out their opinions, their theories, 
 their real convictions, certainly not with much strict- 
 ness, whatever they may be : they act out their 
 passions, propensities, and habits ; and these again 
 depend, in no small measure, on organization, and 
 
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 385 
 
 on the customs and institutions of society, that is 
 to say, on physical and local causes, many of which 
 it is impossible either to trace or explain. 
 
 From the pagans we pass to the Jews, among whom 
 Christianity arose. Moses, their great Lawgiver, 
 aimed to establish what is called a theocracy, that is 
 a government of God upon earth, in which perfect 
 righteousness was to be fulfilled. Of course, in such 
 a state of things, as they had a present Divine judg- 
 ment, there was the less occasion to appeal to 2i future 
 Divine judgment. Nevertheless, I cannot help think- 
 ing that those who go so far as to deny a distinct 
 recognition of another world in the Old Testament, 
 and even in the earlier parts of it, must find extreme 
 difficulty in explaining certain passages, especially 
 such traditions as those respecting the translation 
 of Enoch and Elijah. Be this, however, as it may, 
 there can be no doubt that in the time of our Lord 
 the great body of the Jewish people had become 
 believers in the doctrine of a future state of rewards 
 and punishments. In the apocryphal "Book of 
 Wisdom,'' supposed to have been written about a 
 century before Christ, we find a passage on this sub- 
 ject which might have come from an apostle : " But 
 the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, 
 and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight 
 of the unwise they seem to die ; and their departure 
 is taken for misery, and their going from us to be 
 
 17 Y 
 
386 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 utter destruction ; but they are in peace. For though 
 they be punished in the sight of men, yet is their 
 hope full of immortality ; and having been a little 
 chastised, they shall be greatly rewarded : for God 
 proved them, and found them worthy of himself." 
 
 Accordingly, the doctrine of a future state of retri- 
 bution cannot be accounted a Christian doctrine in 
 the sense of being first taught in Christianity. How, 
 then, it may be asked, are we to understand that 
 passage in St. Paul's Second Epistle to Timothy, in 
 which he speaks of " the appearing of our Saviour 
 Jesus Christ, who hath abolished death, and hath 
 brought life and immortality to light through the 
 Gospel " ? I answer, that to bring a subject " to 
 light " does not necessarily mean to make it known 
 for the first time, but to make it more generally and 
 fully known, — to illustrate it, to clear it up, to set 
 it in its true light, so that all may see it as it is. And 
 this is precisely what Christianity has done for " life 
 and immortality." It has given us new evidence 
 of the facts in the case ; it has enabled us to see 
 these facts in new lights, and under new aspects and 
 relations: so that the whole doctrine, in itself con- 
 sidered, has become substantially a new doctrine. 
 
 This being the case, it remains for me to speak of 
 what may properly be considered as peculiar and 
 original in the Christian doctrine of the judgment to 
 come. 
 
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 387 
 
 In the first place, I attach but little, if any, impor- 
 tance to the distinction insisted on by Bishop Butler. 
 According to him, " all which can positively be as- 
 serted to be matter of mere revelation, with regard to 
 the future judgment, seems to be, that the great dis- 
 tinction between the righteous and the wicked shall 
 be made at the end of this world ; that each shall 
 then receive according to his deserts." * On the con- 
 trary, the whole doctrine of a day of judgment — of a 
 single day or a set time for all mankind — seems to 
 me to have originated in the mistake of construing 
 passages literally which were intended to be under- 
 stood figuratively. If we insist on construing these 
 passages literally, consistency would seem to require 
 us to go further still. We must believe not merely 
 in a day, but also in a place, — nay, more, in real books, 
 in a real consultation of records ; in short, in all the 
 paraphernalia of a human tribunal. Let me not be 
 suspected of objecting to or undervaluing those rep- 
 resentations of Scripture which bring up the vision 
 of all mankind standing before the judgment-seat of 
 Christ, " that every one may receive the things done 
 in his body, according to that he hath done, whether 
 it be good or bad." In no other way would it be pos- 
 sible sujSiciently to impress the imagination and the 
 feelings with that greatest and most solemn of realities, 
 — namely, that you and I, and every one that lives, 
 
 * Analogy, Part I. Chap. II. 
 
388 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 will have to answer in the spirit for what is done 
 in the body. It is only necessary, that, in our sober 
 thinking, we should not confound the truth which 
 is conveyed under the images in question with the 
 images themselves. 
 
 On the whole, the most natural and Christian 
 view would seem to be, that, with every individual, 
 as soon as this life ends the next life begins. Else 
 how could our Saviour say to the penitent thief on 
 the cross, " To-day shalt thou be with me in para- 
 dise " ? or Paul, of Christians generally, " We are 
 confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent 
 from the body, and to be present with the Lord"? 
 or Stephen exclaim in the agonies of death, "Lord 
 Jesus ! receive my spirit " ? Without pretending, 
 therefore, to be wise above what is written, I think 
 we may safely hold, that the day of judgment to 
 every individual will be the day of his death. It 
 will begin then; by what processes and instrumen- 
 talities it will be carried on, and how or when it 
 will end, are among the secret things which belong 
 to the Lord our God. If you wish to be told the 
 details of what is to be in the life to come, you 
 must not go to the Gospel ; you must go to the 
 Koran, which is full of it. As regards everything 
 pertaining to the form and manner — or, so to speak, 
 the outward appearance — of the invisible world, what 
 most distinguishes Christianity when compared with 
 
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 889 
 
 other and false religions, — what indeed, on the nega- 
 tive side, may be regarded as peculiar and oi'iginal 
 in it, — is, not the fulness of the information it con- 
 veys, but its discreet and solemn reserve. In the 
 not very frequent allusions to the subject the lan- 
 guage is purposely varied, so that the most cursory 
 reader might not fall into the mistake of under- 
 standing it to the letter. One thing, however, is put 
 beyond question, — happiness to the good, misery 
 to the bad ; that is, all that can give moral effect 
 to the revelation : not a word, not a syllable, either 
 to stimulate or gratify an idle and impertinent 
 curiosity. 
 
 But these, things are comparatively of small mo- 
 ment. What chiefly and essentially distinguishes 
 the Christian doctrine of the final judgment has 
 nothing to do with the time and circumstances of 
 that event ; it relates to the principle, to the law 
 by which everything is then to be determined. 
 " Who will render to every man according to his 
 deeds : to them who, by patient continuance in well- 
 doing, seek for glory and honor and immortality, 
 eternal life ; but unto them that are contentious, 
 and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteous- 
 ness, indignation and wrath ; tribulation and an- 
 guish upon every soul of man that doeth evil, — • 
 of the Jew first, and also of the Gentile ; but glory, 
 honor, and peace to every man that worketh good, 
 
390 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 — to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile ; for 
 there is no respect of persons with God." The 
 same ground is also taken by another apostle : 
 " Then Peter opened his mouth and said, ' Of a 
 truth I perceive that God is no respecter of per- 
 sons ; but in every nation he that feareth him, and 
 worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.' " A 
 multitude of such passages might be cited from the 
 apostolic writings ; and they do but reassert what 
 our Lord himself had expressly taught in the Ser- 
 mon on the Mount : " Not every one that saith 
 unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the king- 
 dom of heaven ; but he that doeth the will of my 
 Father which is in heaven. Many will say to me 
 in that day, ^ Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in 
 thy name ? and in thy name have cast out devils ? 
 and in thy name have done many wonderful works ? ' 
 And then will I profess unto them, I never knew 
 you : depart from me, ye that work iniquity." 
 
 We are so accustomed to language like this in 
 the New Testament as to be hardly in a condition 
 to see in it anything peculiar or original. But 
 where will you find its parallel ? Certainly not in 
 any of the thousand forms of polytheism which 
 have prevailed in the world. I do not say, I have 
 no right to say, even of these, certainly not of the 
 best of them, that they entirely exclude moral ideas 
 or a moral accountability. But need I remind you 
 
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 391 
 
 t 
 
 how often even the purest of them represent justice 
 as interfered with by jealousies and rivalships among 
 the Divinities themselves, or by partiahty or favor- 
 itism for particular communities or particular in- 
 dividuals ? how often they speak of the anger of 
 the gods as directed, not against unrighteousness, 
 but against some personal slight or neglect? And 
 what shall I say of Judaism ? Every thoughtful 
 reader must be struck with the lofty tone of mono- 
 theistic morality pervading the Old Testament ; but 
 it was never understood to come up to the Chris- 
 tian standard ; it is expressly said in the Sermon on 
 the Mount not to do so. Judaism is marred through- 
 out — sometimes in principle, and still oftener in spirit 
 — by the narrowness and arrogance of a people edu- 
 cated in the belief that God was their God in a 
 sense in which he was not the God of all mankind. 
 Nowhere but in Christianity will you find it dis- 
 tinctly laid down, as of Divine authority, that every 
 man is to be judged at last by what he has him- 
 self done, whether it be good or bad. 
 
 Let us now go one step further, and ascertain, 
 if we can, precisely what is meant when it is said, 
 that men are to be judged " according to their 
 deeds." I beHeve there are those who interpret it 
 to mean, that a sort of moral account current is 
 opened with every man, as soon as he comes to 
 years of discretion, in which he is credited for all 
 
392 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 his virtues and charged with all his sins, and that 
 he will be rewarded or punished m the end for 
 each particular act. Mr. Locke must have enter- 
 tained some such notion when arguing that, before 
 a man can be justly punished in the next life for 
 the sins committed here, those sins must be brought 
 to his remembrance ; that is, he must be conscious 
 of having committed those particular sins. And so 
 Coleridge, who, after advancing the conjecture that 
 " the resurrection body " may so stimulate the mem- 
 ory, as to bring before every human soul the col- 
 lective experience of its whole past existence, adds : 
 "And this, — this, perchance, is the dread Book of 
 Judgment, in whose mysterious hieroglyphics every 
 idle word is recorded." All such speculations origi- 
 nate, as it seems to me, in the common error of 
 pushing too far the analogy between the human 
 and the Divine administrations of justice. The dis- 
 tinction here to be taken' into view is sufficiently 
 obvious. We were told long ago, that " the Lord 
 seeth not as man seeth ; for man looketh on the 
 outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the 
 heart." If, therefore, there is one thing clearer than 
 any other in Christian ethics, it is this, — that every 
 man is to stand or fall according to what he is in 
 himself; — not by what he does, except in so far as 
 it expresses what he really is. Acts of worship in 
 a hypocrite, munificent gifts merely for the name 
 
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 393 
 
 of it, solemn make-beliefe of the would-be worship- 
 per of God and the world at the same time, go for 
 nothing. The question continually returns, What is 
 the man in himself? Not that the language used 
 in Scripture in speaking of the final judgment is to 
 be excepted to or set aside, in any manner or de- 
 gree. It is still as true as ever that we shall all 
 be judged at the last " according to what we have 
 done, whether it be good or bad," because this will 
 have made us to be what we are; nevertheless 
 everything at the Judgment Day will depend on 
 what we are. There is, therefore, no occasion for 
 the nice balancing of accounts, item by item, re- 
 ferred to above ; neither is there any occasion for a 
 miraculous memory to enable us to call to mind 
 every thought we have indulged, every word we 
 have uttered, and every action we have performed. 
 It will be enough, if we know in what moral and 
 spiritual state all these have left us; and to know 
 this it will be enough, if we are made conscious of 
 what we are. 
 
 This view of the case — distinctly apprehended 
 and firmly held — will help to reconcile an apparent 
 discrepancy in the Scriptures as to the person of the 
 Judge. Thus, in one place we are told that " God 
 shall bring every work into judgment, with every 
 secret thing, whether it be good or whether it be 
 evil." In another place it is said, " the Father judg- 
 
 17=* 
 
394 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 eth no man, but hath committed all judgment to the 
 Son.^^ And, m still another place, our Lord himself 
 is represented as saying : " And if any man hear my 
 words, and believe not, I judge him not : for I came 
 not to judge the world, but to save the world. He 
 that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my words, hath 
 one that judgeth him ; the Word that I have spoken, 
 the same shall judge him at the last day." Now 
 there is plainly no contradiction, no difficulty here, 
 provided only that we dismiss the imagination of a 
 formal trial, and make the future judgment to consist 
 in the fact, that every soul will become happy or 
 miserable at death, according to its conscious deserts. 
 The judgment thus understood, we may say with 
 equal truth, looking at the subject under different 
 points of view, that God is the Judge, that Christ is 
 the Judge, or that the Gospel is the Judge. God is 
 the Judge, inasmuch as all justice has its origin and 
 foundation in the absolute holiness and rectitude of 
 the Divine nature. Christ is the Judge, inasmuch as 
 he is the dispenser of Divine justice on earth ; it is 
 in and througli Him that this justice is made known 
 among men, and applied to human affairs. And 
 finally, the Gospel is the Judge, inasmuch as it is the 
 expression of the Divine justice, that is, it sets forth 
 the laws and conditions of spiritual life and spiritual 
 death, according to which every soul will take its 
 appropriate place in the eternal world. 
 
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 395 
 
 The last-mentioned statement makes it necessary 
 to glance at one question more. We say, every soul 
 will take its appropriate place in the next life ; but 
 why do so in the next life, any more than in this ? 
 
 There may be agencies and appliances to carry into 
 effect the righteous retributions of eternity, of which, 
 with our present faculties and experience, we can form 
 no conception. But it is hardly necessary to resort 
 to what may be termed the argument from igno- 
 rance. There is one thing which we know. We know 
 why it is that a righteous retribution is not more 
 generally reached in the life that now is. We know, 
 for example, why it is that a mean man lifts up his 
 head in good society ; why it is that a designing poli- 
 tician often passes for a sincere patriot ; why it is that 
 showy manners often go for more than substantial 
 virtues ; why it is that, in the struggle for wealth and 
 honor, the bad man often succeeds, and the good man 
 often fails. It is because the purely moral aspect of 
 things has comparatively little to do in determining 
 our condition here. It is because a multitude of 
 influences, having little of nothing to do with virtue or 
 vice are constantly at work in this world to modify the 
 opinions entertained of us by others, and even by 
 ourselves. Here things are not as they seem. We 
 walk in " a vain show." It is only necessary to sup- 
 pose, therefore, that death will have the effect to strip 
 ofl" these disguises ; it is only necessary to assume 
 
396 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 that this imposing but hollow masquerade will come 
 to an end, and then every soul will seem to be what it 
 is, and take its place accordingly. Glimpses are 
 sometimes given us of what is to be expected when 
 the world is judged in righteousness, and the secrets 
 of all hearts are laid bare ; and it is always, as our 
 argument would lead us to anticipate, when for some 
 reason moral causes have become for the time all 
 in all. It is when man forgets everything else, and 
 thinks only of his relations to a holy and merciful 
 God ; — as in the joy and peace of the new con- 
 vert, and in the remorse and despair of the stricken 
 soul. Let such a state of things become general, uni- 
 versal, and the dark and perplexing riddle of human 
 destiny is solved : — the judgment is past ; heaven 
 and hell have begun! 
 
 It may be said, that the guilty soul will still be 
 in the hands of a compassionate God ; and this is 
 true. Beware, however, of making compassion in 
 God what it often is in man, — a mere tenderness, 
 I had almost said, a mere weakness. Nor is this 
 all. We must not expect in the next world what 
 is incompatible with its nature and purpose. We 
 are placed here to make a beginning. We can 
 begin here what course we please ; and if we do 
 not like it, we can go back, and begin again. Are 
 you sure it will be so in the world to come ? 
 Why first a world of probation and then a world 
 
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 397 
 
 of retribution, if after all both are to be equally 
 and alike probationary ? Let us not run risks, where 
 the error, if it be one, is irretrievable, and the stake 
 infinite. How much better to be able to say, with the 
 Apostle, " Therefore we are always confident, know- 
 ing that, while we are at home in the body, we are 
 absent from the Lord : we are confident, I say, and 
 willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be 
 present with the Lord. Wherefore we labor, that, 
 whether present or absent, we may be accepted of 
 Him" 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Cambridge : Stereotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co. 
 

 
 3B'K , . J 1 r.4 « iJ 1 j i -a- rHti 4 
 
 
 
 W:;!:;;;;!;:!!i:i!;?::::;;!j;::i:::ii|:i^^ : t : 
 
 
 S: mNiMiM'H'l^i W\m My.\M \ : 
 
 ^jKjHHn] ? m' ^ * ' ' .i ^ ' I' , |J ,^ l' , , ->»% 1 ^W H*** '' 
 
 ^B ' ; ! ! ( ; i^^^^^^^^ m^ ' ^ f 
 
 8 ' H^^^^ S Mi 
 
 W^ ' i ' i ' ; W^^^W^^^I^ ^^ ; ni^l 
 
 Hi ii^ I^^hI^^K^^^^ 
 
 
 mimmi 
 
 iiiil 
 
 iii 
 
 
 i 
 
 iCwCfuWQiv 
 
 '«' 
 
 !b>Ji>>»Jt>J'> 
 
 
 .>VVVVY^)tV¥S2-i: J( 
 
 ^^!4>>>>>>|^J>^|>J|«J>|JH>iUMiMM««{Ci«,<<<«CiittU