OF THE U N I VERS ITY Of ILLINOIS M8\p W\ The person charging this material is re¬ sponsible for its return on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. University of Illinois Library PRACTICAL PIETY VOL. I. , '/-■ \ V. Strahan and Prelton, Prkiters-Street, London. PRACTICAL PIETY; OR, THE INFLUENCE OF THE RELIGION OF THE HEART ON THE CONDUCT OF THE LIFE. By HANNAH MORE. The fear of God begins with the Heart, and purifies and re&ifies it; and from the Heart, thus rectified, grows a conformity in the Life, the Words, and the Actions. Sir Matthew Hale's Contemplations. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. ft L 0 ND 0 N: PRINTED FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, IN THE STRAND. 1811 . . *V r ? ■ " r - .V » • r *- 1 * • •**' ^ - *4* ' , ... '’•■m. _ »'-S ■' .V ... . « r 53 rr" f • - r .— - - - - ■ . I.- . vV.O C\ 7L O t ‘ • ?! ■ - > M ■ ’ ■ > ■.( ■ ' '. . 1 I 0 i X’ X i' C\ t. - V ^ j \ W# j%[U tj a^. PREFACE AN eminent Profeffor of our own time mo* - deftly declared that he taught chymiftry in j order that he might learn it. The writer of J, the following pages might, with far more juftice, offer a fimilar declaration, as an apology for fo repeatedly treating on the important topics of religion and morals. Abafhed by the equitable precept. Let thofe teach others who themfelves excel— ihe is aware, how fairly fhe is putting it in — -X # the power of the reader, to alk, in the fearching words of an eminent old Prelate, v “ They that fpeak thus and advife thus, do rh , they do thus ?” She can defend herfelf in no other way, than by adopting for a reply the words of the fame venerable divine, which immediately follow. — 66 O that it were not too true. Yet although it be but a 3 little vi PREFACE* little that is attained, the very aim is right,, and fomething there is that is done by it. It is better to have fuch thoughts and defires, than altogether to give them up ; and the very defire, if it be ferious and fmcere, may fo much change the habitude of the foul and life, that it is not to be defpifed.” The world does not require fo much to be informed as reminded. A remembrancer may be aimed as ufeful as an indru&or ; if his office be more humble, it is fcarcely lefs neceffiary. The man whofe employment it was, datedly to proclaim in the ear of Philip, REMEMBER THAT THOU ART MORTAL, had his plain admonition been allowed to make its due impreffion, might have produced a more falutary effe£t on the royal Ufurper, than the impaffioned orations of his immortal affailant — whofe refiftlefs eloquence „ Shook th’arfenal, and fulmined over Greece, To Macedon and Artaxerxes’ throne, ‘ While the orator boldly drove to check the ambition, and arred the injudice of the w PREFACE. Vil king, the funple herald barely reminded him, how fhort would be the reign of in- juflice, how inevitable and how near was the final period of ambition. Let it be re¬ membered to the credit of the Monarch, that while the thunders of the Politician were intolerable, the Monitor was of his own ap¬ pointment. This flight fketch, for it pretends to no higher name, aims only at being plain and pra&ical. Contending folely for thofe in* difpenfable points, which, by involving pre- fent duty, involve future happinefs, the writer has avoided, as far as Chriftian fin- cerity permits, all controverted topics; has fhunned whatever might lead to deputation rather than to profit. We live in an age, when, as Mr. Pope obferved of that in which he wrote, it is criminal to be moderate. Would it could not be faid that Religion has her parties as well as Politics! Thofe who endeavour to fleer clear of all extremes in either, are in danger of being reprobated by both. It is a 4 rather vm PREFACE. rather a hardfhip for perfons, who having confidered it as a Chriflian duty to cultivate a fpirit of moderation in thinking, and of candour in judging, that, when thefe difpo- fitions are brought into action, they fre¬ quently incur a harfher cenfure, than the errors which it was their chief aim to avoid. Perhaps, therefore, to that human wifdom whofe leading object is human applaufe, it might anfwer bell to be exclufively attached to fome one party. On the protection of that party at leaf!:, it might in that cafe reckon; and it would then have the diflike of the oppofite clafs alone to contend againft; while thofe who cannot go all lengths with either, can hardly efcape the difapprobation of both. To apply the remark to the prefent cafe.— The Author is apprehenfive that flie may be at once cenfured by oppofite clalfes of readers, as being too drift, and too relaxed.; — too much attached to opinions, and too indifferent about them; — as having nar¬ rowed the broad field of Chriftianity. by la¬ bouring PREFACE. i x bouring to eftablifh its peculiar dodtrines; — as having broken down its inclofures by not confining herfelf to do&rines exclulively; — as having confidered morality of too little importance, as having raifed it to an undue elevation ; — as having made practice every thing ; — as having made it nothing. While a Catholic fpirit is accufed of being latitudinarian in one party, it really is fo in another. In one, it exhibits the character of Chriftianity on her own grand but correct fcale; in the other, it is the offspring of that indifference, which, confidering all opinions as of nearly the fame value, indemnifies itfelf for tolerating all, by not attaching itfelf to any ; which, eflablifhing a felf-complacent notion of general benevolence, with a view to difcredit the narrow fpirit of Chriftianity, and adopting a difplay of that cheap material, liberal fentiment, as oppofed to religious ftridtnefs, facrifices true piety to falfe candor. Chriftianity may be faid to fuffer between two criminals, but it is difficult to determine by which the fuffers molt; —whether by that uncharitable X PREFACE. uncharitable bigotry which difguifes her divine character, and fpeculatively adopts th$ faggot and the flames of inquifitorial in¬ tolerance ; or by that indifcriminate candor, that conceding flacknefs, which, by (tripping her of her appropriate attributes, reduces her to fomething fcarcely worth contending for; to fomething which, inltead of making her the religion of Chrifl,. generalizes her * into any religion which may chufe to adopt her. — The one diftorts her lovely lineaments into caricature, and throws her graceful figure into gloomy fhadow ; the other, by daubing her over with colours not her own, renders her form indiftinCt, and obliterates her features. In the firfh inltance, fhe ex¬ cites little affeCtion ; in the latter, fhe is not recognized. The Writer has endeavoured to addrefs herfelf as a Chriftian who muft die foon, to Chriftians who mull die certainly. She trulls that Ihe lhall not be accufed of erect¬ ing herfelf into a cenfor, but be confidered as one who writes with a real confcioufnefs that 4 PREFACE. 3d that flie is far from having reached the attain¬ ments (he fuggefts ; with a heartfelt convic¬ tion of the danger of holding out a ilandard too likely to difcredit her own practice. She writes not with the alfumption of fuperio- rity, but with a deep practical fenfe of the infirmities againfl which fhe has prefumed to caution others. She wifhes to be under- ftood as fpeaking the language of fympathy, rather than of dictation; of feeling rather than of document. So far from fancying herfelf exempt from the evils on which fhe has animadverted, her very feeling of thofe evils has affifted her in their delineation. Thus this interior fentiment of her own de¬ ficiencies, which might be urged as a difqua- lification, has, fhe trufts, enabled her to point out dangers to others. — If the patient cannot lay down rules for the cure of a reigning difeafe, much lefs effect the cure; yet from the fymptoms common to the fame malady, he who labours under it may fug¬ ged: the neceffity of attending to it. He 1 may i PREFACE. - ® • XU may treat the cafe feelingly, if not fcientifi- cally. He may fubftitute experience, in de¬ fault of fkill: he may infill on the value of the remedy he has neglected, as well as re¬ commend that from which he has found benefit. The fubje&s confidered in thefe Volumes have been animadverted on, have been in a manner exhaulted, by perfons before whofe names the Author bows down with the deepelt humility; by able profeflional in- ftru&ors, by piety adorned with all the graces of fhyle, and invigorated with all the powers of argument. Why then, it may be afked, multiply books which may rather incumber the Rea¬ der than flrengthen the caufe ? — “ That the old is better ” cannot be difputed. But is not the being “ old ” fometimes a reafon why the being “ better ” is not regarded ? Novelty itfelf is an attra&ion which but too often fuperfedes merit. A flighter drapery, if it be a new one, may excite a degree of attention PREFACE. XU1 attention to an object, not paid to it when clad in a richer garb to which the eye has been accuftomed. The Author may begin to afk with one of her earlieft and moll enlightened friends # — “ Where is the world into which we were born?” Death h^s broken mofl of thofe connexions which made the honour and the happinefs of her youthful days. Frefh links however have continued to attach her to fo- ciety. She is fingularly happy in the affec¬ tionate regard of a great number of amiable young perfons, who may perufe, with addi¬ tional attention, fentiments which come re¬ commended to them by the warmth of their own attachment, more than by any claim of merit in rhe Writer. Is there not fomething in perfonal knowlege, fomething in the feel¬ ings of endeared acquaintance, which, by that hidden affociation, whence fo much of our undefined pleafure is derived, if it does not impart new force to old truths, may ex¬ cite a new filtered: in confiderlng truths * Dr. Johnfon. 2 which XIV PREFACE. which are known ? Her concern for thefe engaging perfons extends beyond the tran- fient period of prefent intercourfe. It would flied a ray of brightnefs on her parting hour, if die could hope that any caution here held out, any principle here fuggefted, any habit here recommended, might be of ufe to any one of them, when the hand which now guides the pen, can be no longer exerted in their fervice. This would be remembering their friend in a way which would evince the highefi: affedion in them, which would con¬ fer the trueft honour on herfelf. „ § Barley Wood, March ijl, l8ll. CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. CHAP. I. -*■ • - .-s, Chrijiianity an Internal Principle. Page i CHAP. II. Chrijiianity a Practical Principle . - 27 CHAP. III. Mijlakes in Religion. - - * 50 K CHAP. IV. Periodical Religion. - - - 79 - - ’ * • l \ CHAP. V. Prayer. - - - - 98 CHAP. VI. Cultivation of a Devotional Spirit. - 126 XVI CONTENTS. CHAP. VII. The Love of God. ^ - Page 146 CHAP. VIII. The Hand of God to he acknowleged in the daily Circumftances of Life. - - 165 CHAP. IX. Chriftianity univerfai in its Requifitions . 185 CHAP. X. % . . . Chriflian Ho/inefs . - - -202 m CHAP. XI. On the comparatively fnall Faults and \ Virtues . * *- - 219 CHAP. L Christianity an Internal Principle. Christianity bears all the marks of a divine original. It came down from heaven, and its gracious purpofe is to carry us up thither. Its Author is God. It was foretold from the beginning by prophecies which grew clearer and brighter as they approached the period of their accomplifhment. It was confirmed by miracles which continued till the religion they illustrated was eft lblifhecL It was ratified by the blood of its Author. Its dodrines are pure, fublirne, confiftsnt. Its precepts juft and holy. Its wcrlhip is fpiritual. Its iervice reafonable, and rendered practicable by the ofters of divine ai l to human weaknefs. It is fanbtioned by the b - promile CHRISTIANITY" 2 promife of eternal happinefs to the faithful, and the threat of everlading mifery to the difobedient. It had no collufion with power, for power fought to crufh it. It could not be in any league with the world, for it fet out by declaring itfelf the enemy of the world. It reprobated its maxims^ it fhewed the vanity of its glories, the danger of its riches, the emptinefs of its pleafures. Chridianity, though the moil perfect rule of life that ever was devifed, is far from being barely a rule of life. A religion con¬ fiding of a mere code of laws, might have fufficed for man in a date of innocence. But man who has broken thefe laws cannot be faved by a rule which he has violated. What confolation could he bnd in the peru- fal of datutes, every one of which, bringing a frefh conviction of his guilt, brings a frefh affurance of his condemnation. The chief objeCt of the Gofpel is not to furnifh rules for the prefervation of innocence, but to hold out the means of falvation to the guilty. It does not proceed upon a fuppofition, but a faCt 5 AN INTERNAL PRINCIPLE. 3 a Fad; not upon what might have fuited man in a ftate of purity, but upon what is fuitable to him in the exigencies of his fallen ftate. This religion does not confift in an exter¬ nal conformity to pradices which, though right in themfelves, may be adopted from human motives, and to anfwer fecular pur- pofes. It is not a religion of forms, and modes, and decencies. It is being trans¬ formed into the image of God. It is being like-minded with Chrift. It is confidermg him as our fandification, as well as our redemption. It is endeavouring to live to him here that we may live with him hereafter. It is defiring earneftly to fur- render our will to his, our heart to the condud of his fpirit, our life to the guidance of his word. The change in the human heart, which the Scriptures declare to be neceffary, they reprefent to be not fo much an old principle improved as a new one created; not deduced out of the former £ 2 charader, 4 ; CHRISTIANITY character, but infufed into the new one. This change is there expreffed in great varieties of language, and under different figures of fpeech. Its being fo frequently defcribed, or figuratively intimated in almoft every part of the volume of infpiration, intitles the doCtrine itfelf to reverence, and ought to fhield from obloquy the obnoxious terms in which it is fometimes conveyed. The facred writings frequently point out the analogy between natural and fpiritual things. The fame fpirit which iri the creation of the world moved upon the face of the waters, operates on the human character to produce a new heart and a new life. By this operation the affections and faculties of the man receive a new impulfe — his dark underftanding is illuminated, his rebellious will is fubdued, his irregular defires are recti¬ fied ; his judgment is informed, his imagi¬ nation is chaftifed, his inclinations are fanc- tified; his hopes and fears are directed to their true and adequate end. Heaven becomes the ohjeCt of his hopes, an eternal feparation AN INTERNAL PRINCIPLE, g feparation from God the objeft of his fears. His love of the world is tranfmuted into the love of God. The lower faculties are preffed into the new fervice. The fenfes have a higher direction. The whole internal frame and conhitution receive a nobler bent; the intents and purpofes of the mind a fubr limer aim; his afpirations a loftier flight; his vacillating defires find a fixed objeQ;; his vagrant purpofes a fettled home ; his difappointed heart a certain refuge. That heart, no longer the worfhipper of the world, is ftruggling to become its conqueror. Our bleffed Redeemer, in overcoming the world, bequeathed us his command to overcome it alfo ; but as he did not give the command without the example, fo he did not give the example without the offer of a power to obey the command. Genuine religion demands not merely an external profeflion of our allegiance to God, but an inward devotednefs of ourfelves to his fervice. It is not a recognition, but a dedication. It puts the Chriflian into a new b 3 ftate 6 CHRISTIANITY Rate of things, a new condition of being* It raifes him above the world while he lives in it. It difperfes the illufions of fenfe, by opening his eyes to realities in the place of thofe Ihadows which he has been purfuing, it prefents this world as a fcene whofe ori¬ ginal beauty Sin has darkened and difor- dered, Man as a helpless and dependent creature, Jefus Chrifl as the repairer of alj the evils which fin has caufed, and as our reftorer to holinefs and happinefs. Any religion fhort of this, any, at lead, which has not this for its end and objed, is not that religion which the Gofpel has prefented tp us, which our Redeemer came down on earth to teach us by his precepts, to illuftrate by his example, to confirm by his death, and to confummate by his refurredion. If Chriftianity do not always produce thefe happy effeds to the extent here reprefented* it has always a tendency to produce them. If we do not fee the progrefs to be fuch as the Gofpel annexes to the transforming power of true religion, it is not owing to any defed in AN INTERNAL PRINCIPLE. in the principle, but to the remains of fm in the heart ; to the imperfe&ly fubdued cor. ruptions of the Chrifiian. Thofe who are very fincere are frill very imperfect. They evidence their fmcerity by acknowledging ✓ the lownefs of their attainments, by lament¬ ing the remainder of their corruptions. Many an humble Chrifiian whom the world reproaches with being extravagant in h:‘s zeal, whom it ridicules for being enthufiafiic in his aims, and rigid in his practice, is inwardly mourning on the very contrary ground. He would bear their cenfure more cheerfully, but that he feels his danger lies in the oppofite direction. He is fecretly abafing himfelf before his Maker for not carrying far enough that principle‘which he is accufed of carrying too far. The fault which others find in him is excefs. The fault he finds in himfelf is deficiency. He is, alas ! too commonly right. His enemies fpeak of him as they hear. He judges of himfelf as he feels. But, though humbled to the dufl by the deep fenfe of his own £ 4 unworthi* CHRISTIANITY unworthinefs, he is u ftrong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.’* “ He has,” fays the venerable Hooker, u a Shepherd full of kindnefs, full of care, and full of power.” His prayer is not for reward but pardon. His plea is not merit but mercy-j but then it is mercy made fure to him by the promife of the Almighty to penitent believers. Hie miflake of many in religion appears to be, that they do not begin with the be* ginning. They do not lay their foundation in the perfuafion that man is by nature in a ft ate of alienation from God. They com fider him rather as an imperfebt than as a fallen creature. They allow that he requires to be improved, but deny that he requires a thorough renovation of heart. But genuine Chriftianity can never be grafted on any other flock than the apoftacy of man. The defign to re-inftate beings who have not fallen; to propofe a reftora- ticn without a previous lofs, a cure where there was no radical difeafe, is altogether an , incon- AN INTERNAL PRINCIPLE* 9 incongruity which would feem too palpable to require confutation, did we not fo fre* quently fee the do&rine of redemption maim tained by thofe who deny that man was in a date to require fuch a redemption. But would Chrid have been fent “ to preach deliverance to the captive,” if there had been, no captivity ; and u the opening of the pri- . fon to them that were bound,” had there been no prifon, had man been in no bom dage ? We are aware that many confider the doc¬ trine in quedion as a bold charge againd our Creator. But may we not venture to alley Is it not a bolder charge againd God’s good- nefs to prefume that he had made beings originally wicked, and againd God’s veracity to believe, that having made fuch beings, he pronounced them “good?” Is not that- dodlrine more reafonable which is exprefled or implied in every part of Scripture, that the moral corruption of our hrd parent has been entailed on his whole pojlerity; that from this corruption (though only .puniju b 5 able lO CHRISTIANITY able for their a&ual offences) they are no more exempt than from natural death ? We muff not, however, think falfely of our nature; we mufl humble but not de¬ grade it. Our original brightnefs is ob* fcured but not extinguifhed. If we con* fider ourfelves in our natural hate, ou£ eflimation cannot be too low: when we Tefledl at what a price we have been bought, we can hardly over-rate ourfelves in thd view of immortality. If, indeed, the Almighty had left us to the confequences of our natural flate, we might, with more colour of reafon, have mutinied againfl his juflice. But when we fee how gracioufly he has turned our very {apfe into an occafion of improving our con* dition ; how from this evil he was pleafed to advance us to a greater good than we had loft; how that life which was forfeited may be reftored; how by grafting the redemp¬ tion of man on the very circumftance of his fall, he has railed him to the capacity of a higher condition than that which he has for¬ feited, AN INTERNAL PRINCIPLE. 11 feited, and to a happinefs fuperior to that from which he fell—What an impreffion does this give us of the immeafureable wif. dom and goodnefs of God, of the unfearch** able riches of Chrift. The religion which it is the object of thefe pages to recommend, has been fometimes mifunderftood, and not feldom mifrepre- fented. It has been defcribed as an unpro« du&ive theory, and ridiculed as a fanciful extravagance. For the fake of diftinction it is here called, The Religion of the heart . There it fubfifts as the fountain of fpiritual life ; thence, it fends forth, as from the central feat of its exiftence, fupplies of life and warmth through the whole frame: there is the foul of virtue, there is the vital principle which animates the whole being of a Chrif- Man. This religion has been the fupport and' confolation of the pious believer in all ages of the Church. That it has been perverted both by the cloyftered and the umcloy- ftered myflic, not merely to promote ab- b 6 flradion 12 CHRISTIANITY draCtion of mind, but inactivity of life, makes nothing againd the principle itfelf. What doCtrine of the New Tedament has not been made to fpeak the language of its injudicious advocate, and turned into arms againd fome other doCtrine which it was never meant to oppofe ? But if it has been carried to a blameable excefs by the pious error of holy men, it has alfo been adopted by the lefs innocent fanatic, and abufed to the mod pernicious purpofes. His extravagance has furnilhed to the enemies of internal religion, argu¬ ments, or rather invecHves, againd the found and fober exercifes of genuine piety. They feize every occadon to reprefent it as if it were criminal, as the foe of morality ; ridi¬ culous, as the infallible ted of an unfound •• * mind \ mifchievous, as hodile to aCtive vir¬ tue, and dedruCtive as the bane of public utility. But if thefe charges be really well found¬ ed, then were the brighted luminaries of the Chridian Church — then were Horne, and Porteus* AN INTERNAL PRINCIPLE* f J Porteus, and Beveridge ; then were Hooker, and Taylor, and Herbert; Hopkins, Leigh¬ ton, and Ufher ; Howe, and Baxter, Ridley, Jewell, and Hooper ; —then were Chryfof- tome and Augudine, the Reformers and the Fathers; then were the goodly fellow- fhip of the Prophets, then were the noble army of Martyrs, then were the glorious company of the Apodles, then was the Dif- ciple whom Jefus loved, then was Jefus himfelf — I diudder at the implication—• dry fpeculatids, frantic enthufiads, enemies to virtue, and fubverters of the public weal, Thofe who difoelieve, or deride, or reject this inward religion, are much to be com- paflionated. Their belief that no fuch prin¬ ciple exifls, will, it is to be feared, effectually prevent its exifting in themfelves, at lead, while they make their own date the meafure of their general judgment. Not being fen- fible of the required difpofitions, in their own hearts, they eftablifli this as a proof of its 14 CHRISTIANITY its impoflibility in all cafes. This perfua- fion, as long as they maintain it, will affuredly exclude the reception of divine truth. What they affert can be true in no cafe, cannot be true in their own. Their hearts will be barred againfl any influence in the power of which they do not believe. They will not defire it; they will not pray for it, except in the Liturgy, where it is the decided language: They will not addict them- felves to thofe pious exercifes to which it invites them, exercifes which it ever loves and cherifhes. Thus they expect the end, but avoid the way which leads to it; they indulge the hope of glory, while they neglect or pervert the means of grace. But let not the formal religionifl, who has, probably, never fought, and, therefore, never obtained, any fenfe of the fpiritual mercies of God, conclude that there is, therefore, no fuch flate. His having no conception of it is no more proof that no fuch flats exifis, than. it is a proof that the cheering beams of a AN INTERNAL PRINCIPLE. 1 5 genial climate have no exigence becaufe the inhabitants of the frozen zone have never felt them. Where our own heart and experience do not illuftrate thefe truths practically, fo as to afford us fome evidence of their reality, let us examine our minds, and faithfully follow up our convictions; let us enquire whether God has really been wanting in the accam- pliihment of his promifes, or whether we have not been fadly deficient in yielding to thofe fuggeftions of confcience which are the motions of his fpirit ? Whether we have not negleCted to implore the aids of that Spirit; whether we have not, in various inftances, refitted them ? Let us afk our- felves — have we looked up to our heavenly father with humble dependance for the fupplies of his grace ? or have we prayed for thefe blellings only as a form, and hav¬ ing acquitted ourfelves of the form, do we continue to live as if we had not fo prayed ? Having repeatedly implored his direction, do we endeavour to fubmit ourfelves to its guidance ? 16 CHRISTIANITY guidance ? Having prayed that his will may be done, do we never ftoutly fet up our own will in contradiction to his ? If, then, we receive not the promifed fup- port and comfort, the failure mull reft' fomewhere. It lies between him who has promifed, and him to whom the promife is made. There is no other alternative; would it not be blafphemy to transfer the failure to God ? Let us not, then, reft till we have cleared up the difficulty. The fpirits fink, and the faith fails, if, after a con¬ tinued round of reading and prayer ; after having, for years, conformed to the letter of the command ; after having fcrupuloully brought in our tale of outward duties ; we find ourfelves juft where we were at fetting out. We complain juftly of our own weakness, and truly plead our inability as a reafon ' why we cannot ferve God as w r e ought. This infirmity, its nature, and its meafure, God knows far more exaCtly than we know it; yet he knows that, with the help which. he AN INTERNAL PRINCIPLE. IJ he offers us, we can both love and obey him, or he never would have made it the qualification of our obtaining his favour. He never would have faid, C£i give me thy heart’* ‘— C6 feek ye my face** — add to your faith virtue ? — ££ have a right heart and a right fpirit” —“ flrengthen the things that re¬ main” — u ye will not come to me that ye might have life” — had not all thefe pre¬ cepts a definite meaning, had not all thefe been practicable duties. Can we fuppofe that the omnifcient God would have given thefe unqualified com¬ mands to powerlefs, incapable, unimpreflible beings ? Can we fuppofe that he would pa¬ ralyze his creatures, and then condemn them for not being able to move ? He knows, it is true, our natural impotence, but he knows, becaufe he confers, our fuperinduced ftrength. There is fcarcely a command in the whole Scripture which has not either immediately, or in fame other part, a cor- refponding prayer, and a correfponding promife. If it fays in one place u get thee a new I 8 CHRISTIANITY t a new heart”'—it fays in another “ a new heart will I give thee;” and in a third Hear their importunate petitions! — u O fend forth thy light and thy truth!” — Mark their grateful declarations ! — “ the Lord is my flrength and my falvation!”— Obferve their cordial acknowlegements! u blefs the Lord O my foul, and all that is within me blefs his holy name.” Though AN INTERNAL PRINCIPLE* 19 Though we mud be careful not to miftake for the divine Agency thofe impulfes which pretend to operate independently of external revelation ; which have little reference to it; which fet themfelves above it; it is however that powerful agency which fanCtifies all means, renders all external revelation effec¬ tual. — Notwithflanding that all the truths of religion, all the doctrines of faivation, are contained in the holy fcriptures, thefe very fcriptures require the influence of that jpirit which dilated them to produce an influential faith. This Spirit, by enlighten¬ ing the mind, converts the rational perfuafion^ brings the intellectual conviction of divine truth conveyed in the New Teftament, into an operative principle. A man, from read¬ ing, examining, and enquiring, may attain, to fuch a reafonable aflurance of the truth of revelation as will remove ail doubts from his own mind, and even enable him to refute the objections of others; but this bare in¬ tellectual faith alone will not operate againft his corrupt affeCtions, will not cure his be- letting 20 CHRISTIANITY fetting fin, will not conquer his rebellious will, and may not therefore be an efficacious principle. A mere hiftorical faith, the mere evidence of fadts with the founded reafon- ings and dedudlions from them, may not be that faith which will fill him with all joy and peace in believing.. An habitual reference to that Spirit which animates the real Chrillian is fo far from ex- eluding, that it ftrengthens the truth of re¬ velation, but never contradidfs it. The word of God is always in unifon with his fpirit. His fpirit is never in oppofition to his word. Indeed that this influence is not an imaginary thing, is confirmed by the whole tenor of Scripture. We are aware, that we are treading on dangerous, becaufe difputed ground; for among the fafhionable curtail¬ ments of feripture dodtrines, there is not one truth which has been lopped from the modern creed with a more unfparing hand ; not one, the defence of which, excites more fufpicion againft its advocates. But if it had been a mere phantom, fhould we with fuch jealous • % qJ — AN INTERNAL PRINCIPLE. ±% .T ' \ ' jealous iteration, have been cautioned againft neglecting or oppofmg it ? If the holy Spirit could not be 66 grieved,” might not be lity but not of benevolence; of fenfibility but not of philanthropy ; of friends and fa¬ vourites, of parties and focieties, but not of man A PRACTICAL PRINCIPLE, 35 man collectively. It is true we may, and do* without this principle, relieve his diftrelfes, but we do not bear with his faults. We may promote his fortune, but we do not forgive his offences ; above all, we are not anxious for his immortal interefts. We could not fee him want without pain, but we can fee him fin without emotion. We could not hear of a beggar perifhing at our door without horror, but we can, 'without concern, witnefs an acquaintance dying without repentance. Is it not ftrange that we muft participate fomething of the divine nature, before we can really love the human ? It feems, indeed, to be an infenfibility to fin, rather than want of benevolence to mankind, that makes us naturally pity their temporal and be carelefs of their fpii itual wants ; but does not this very infenfibility proceed from the want of love to God ? As it is the habitual frame, and predomi¬ nating difpofition, which are the true mea- fure of virtue, incidental good actions are no certain criterion of the ftate of the heart; c 6 for CHRISTIANITY 36 : k*r who is there, who does not occafionatly* do them ? Having made fome progrefs in attaining this difpofition, we mull not fit- down fatisfied with propenfities and inclina¬ tions to virtuous actions, while we red: Ihort of their actual exercife. If the principle be that of found Chriftianity, it will never be inert. While we lhall never do good witlr any great effe£l, till we labour to be con¬ formed, in fome meafure, to the image of God; we fliall bell evince our having ob¬ tained-fomething of that conformity, by a courfe of fleady and adlive^ obedience to Go d. Every individual fhould bear in mind, that he is fent into this world to a£t a part in it. And though one may have a more fplendid, and another a more obfcure part afiigned him, yet the a&or of each is equally, is awfully accountable. Though God is not a hard, he is an exaft Mailer. His fervice, though not a fevere, is a reafonable fervicei He accurately proportions his requilitions to his gifts. If he does not expert that on-e talent A PRACTICAL PRINCIPLE. 37 talent ibould. be as productive as live, yet to even a (ingle talent a proportionable refpom (ability is annexed. He who has faid cc Give me thy heart/ 5 will not be fatisfied with lefs; he will not accept the praying lips, nor the mere hand of Charity, as fubftitutes. A real Chriftian will be more juft, fober, and charitable than other men, though he will not reft for falvation on juftice, fobriety^ or charity. He will perform the duties 1 they enjoin, in the fpirit of Chriftianity, as inftance 3 of devout obedience,, as evidences of a heart devoted to God. All virtues, it cannot be too often repeat¬ ed, are fanCtiiied or unhallowed according to the principle which dilates them ; and will be accepted or rejected accordingly. This principle, kept in due exercife, becomes a habit, and every act ftrengthens the incli¬ nation, adding vigour to the principle and pleafure to the performance. We cannot be faid to be real Chriftians, till religion become our animating motive, our CHRISTIANITY 3* our predominating principle and purfuit, as much as worldly things are the predominat¬ ing motive, principle, and purfuit of worldly men. New converts, it is faid, are mofi zealous, but they are not always the mod perfevering* If their tempers are warm, and they have only been touched on the fide of their paf- fions, they Hart eagerly, march rapidly, and are full of confidence in their own Hrength- They too often judge others with little charity, and themfelves with little humility. While they accufe thofe who move fteadily of Handing Hill, they fancy their own courfe will never be flackened. If their converfion. be not folid, religion, in lofing its novelty, lofes its power. Their fpeed declines. Nay it will be happy if their motion become not retrograde. Thofe who are truly fincere, will commonly be perfevering. If their fpeed is lefs eager, it is more Heady. As they know their own heart more, they difcover its deceitfulnefs, and learn to difirufi them¬ felves. As they become more humble in fpirk. X A PRACTICAL PRINCIPLE, 39 fpirit they become more charitable in judging. As they grow more firm in principle they grow more exa£t in conduct. The rooted habits of a religious life may indeed lofe their prominence, becaufe they are become more indented. If they are not emboffed it is becaufe they are burnt in* Where there is uniformity and confidency in the whole character, there will be little relief in an individual action. A good deed will be lefs (hiking in an eflablifhed Chrit tian than a deed lefs good in one who had been previoufly carelefs; good actions being his expe&ed duty and his ordinary practice. Such a Chriftian indeed, when his right habits ceafe to be new and (hiking, may fear that he is declining : but his quiet and confirmed courfe is a furer evidence than the more early darts of charity, or fits of piety, which may have drawn more attention and obtained more applaufe. Again 5 We fhould cultivate mod aflidu- oufly, becaufe the work is mod difficult, thofe graces which are mod oppofite to our natural / 4 ® CHRISTIANITY natural temper; the value of our good qualities depending much on their being produced by the victory over fome natural wrong propenfity. The implantation of a virtue is the eradication of a vice. It will coll one man more to keep down a rifing paflion than to do a brilliant deed. It will try another more to keep back a fparkling i but corrupt thought, which his wit had fuggefted, but which his Religion checks, than it would to give a large fum in Charity. A real Chriftian being deeply fenfible of the worthleflhefs of any addons, which do not j 7 fpring from the genuine fountain, will aim at fuch an habitual conformity to the divine image, that to perform all adbs of jufbce, charity, kindnefs, temperance, and every kindred virtue, may become the temper, die habitual, the abiding Hate of his heart; that like natural (breams they may flow fpontaneoufly from the living fource. Practical Chriftianity then, is the adbual operation of Chriflian principles. It is lying on the watch for occaflons to exemplify. them.. A PRACTICAL PRINCIPLE* 41 them. It is a exercifmg ourfelves unto godlinefs.” A Chriftian cannot tell in the morning, what opportunities he may have of doing good during the day ; but if he be a real Chriftian, he can tell that he will try to keep his heart open, his mind prepared, his afte&ions alive to do whatever may occur in the way of duty. He will, as it were. Hand in the way to receive the orders of Providence. Doing good is his vocation. * Nor does the young Artifan bind himfelf by firmer articles to the rigid performance of his Matter’s work, than the indentured Chriftian to the active fervice of that divine Mafter, who himfelf C€ went about doing good.” He rejects no duty which comes within the fphere of his calling, nor does he think the work he is employed in a good one, if he might be doing a better. His having well acquitted himfelf of a good adlion, is fo far from furnifhing him with an excufe for avoiding the next, that it is a new reafon for his embarking in it. He looks not at the work which he has accompliflied; but 42 CHRISTIANITY on that which he has to do. His views are always profpeCtive. His charities are fcarcely limited by his power. His will knows no limits. His fortune may have bounds. His benevolence has none. He is, in mind and defire, the benefactor of every miferable man. His heart is open to all the diftreffed; to the houfehold of faith it overflows. Where the heart is large, however fmall the ability, a thoufand ways of doing good will be invented, Chriftian charity is a great enlarger of means. Chriftian felf- denial negatively accomplifhes the purpofe of the favorite of fortune in the fables of the Nurfery : — if it cannot fill the purfe by a wifh, it will not empty it by a vanity. It provides for others by abridging from itfelf. Having carefully defined what is neceffary and becoming, it allows of no encroachment on its definition. Superfluities it will lop, vanities it will cut off. The devifer of liberal things will find means of effecting them, which to the indolent appear incredible, to the covetous impoffible. Chriftian bene„ ficence A practical PRINCIPLE. 43 ficence takes a large fweep. That circum¬ ference cannot be fmall, of which God is the centre. Nor does religious charity in a Chriflian fland dill becaufe not kept in motion by the main fpring of the world. Money may fail, but benevolence will be going on. If he cannot relieve want, he may mitigate forrow. He may warn the in¬ experienced, he may indruft the ignorant, he may confirm the doubting. The Chrif- tian will find out the cheapefl way of being good as well as of doing good. If he cannot give money, he may exercife a more difficult virtue; he may forgive injuries. Forgive- nefs is the economy of the heart. A Chrifi tian will find it cheaper to pardon than to Tefent. Forgivenefs faves the expence of anger, the cofl of hatred, the wade of fpirits. It alfo puts the foul into a frame f which makes the practice of other virtues eafy. The achievement of a hard duty is a great abolifher of difficulties. If great oc« cafions do not arife, he will thankfully feize m finall ones B If he cannot glorify God 44 CHRISTIANITY by ferving others, he knows that he has always fomething to do at home ; fome evil temper to corred, fome wrong propeniity to reform, fome crooked practice to iiraiten. lie will never be at a lofs for employment, while there is a fin or a mifery in the world ; he will never be idle, while there is a diftrefs to be relieved in another, or a corruption to be cured in his own heart. We have em¬ ployments afligned to us for every circum- fiance in life. When w T e are alone, we have our thoughts to watch; in the family, our tempers ; in company, our tongues. What an example of difmterefled good- nefs and unbounded kindnefs, have we in our heavenly father, who is merciful over ail his works, who diftributes common bleff- ings without diflindion, who bellows the neceffary refrefhments of life, the fhining fun and the refrefhing fhower, without waiting, as we are apt to do, for perfonal merit, or attachment or gratitude; who does not look out for defert, but want as a qualification for his favours ; who does nos afflict A PRACTICAL PRINCIPLE. 45 willingly, who delights in the happi- nefs, and defires the falvation of ail his children, who difpenfes his daily munificence and bears with our daily offences ; who in return for our violation of his laws, fupplies our necefTities, who waits patiently for our repentance, and even folicits us to have mercy on our own fouls! What a model for our humble imitation, is that divine perfon who was clothed with our humanity; who dwelt among us, that -the pattern being brought near, might ba rendered more engaging, the conformity be made more practicable ; whole whole life was one unbroken feries of univerfal charity; who in his complicated bounties, never forgot that man is compounded both of foul and body; who after teaching the multitude, fed them ; vdio repulfed none for being ignorant; was impatient with none for being dull; defpifed none for being con¬ temned by the world ; rejetted none for beiug iinners; who encouraged thofe whofe importunity others cenlured $ who in healing- fickneifes CHRISTIANITY 46 ficknefles converted fouls, who gave bread and forgave injuries! It will be the endeavour of the fincere Chriflian to illuftrate his devotions in the morning, by his a&ions during the day* He will try to make his conduct a pradlical expofition of the divine prayer which made a part of them. He will delire “ to hallow the name of God,” to promote the enlarge¬ ment and “ the coming” of the “ kingdom” of Chrift. He will endeavour to do and to fuffer his whole will; “ to forgive” as he himfelf trulls that he is forgiven. He will refolve to avoid that “ temptation” into which he had been praying u not to be led and he will labour to Ihun the K evil,” from which he had been begging to be u delivered.” He thus makes his prayers as practical as the other parts of his religion, and labours to render his conduct as fpiritual as h’s prayers. The commentary and the text are of reciprocal application. If this gracious Saviour has left us a per¬ fect model for our devotion in his prayer, he A PRACTICAL PRINCIPLE* / 47 he has left a model no iefs perfect for our practice in his Sermon. This divine Expo- fition has been fometimes mifunderdood* It was not fo much a fupplement to a de¬ fective law, as the redoration of the purity of a perfect law from the corrupt interpre¬ tations of its blind expounders. Thefe per- foils had ceafed to confider it as forbidding the principle of fin, and as only forbidding the aCt. Chrid redores it to its original meaning, fpreads it out in its due extent^ fhews the largenefs of its dimenfions and the fpirit of its inditution. He unfolds all its motions, tendencies, and relations. Not contenting himfelf, as human Legiflators are obliged to do, to prohibit a man the aCt which is injurious to others, but the inward temper which is prejudicial to himfelf. There cannot be a more driking indance, how emphatically every doCtrine of the Gof- pel has a reference to practical goodnefs, than is exhibited by St. Paul, in that mag¬ nificent picture of the RefurreCtion, in his Epidle to the Corinthians, which our Church has CHRISTIANITY has happily fele&ed, for the confolation of furvivors at the lafl clofmg fcene of mor-' tality. After an inference as triumphant, as it is logical, thatbecaufe u Chrift is rifen, we fhall rife alfoafter the nioll philo- fophical illuftratioxlof the raifing of the body from the duft, by the procefs of grain fown in the earth, and fpringing up into a new mode of exigence; after defcribing the fub- jugation of all things to the Redeemer, and his laying down the mediatorial Kingdom ; after iketching with a feraph’s pencil, the relative glories of the celeftral and terreftrial bodies ; after exhaufHng the grandeft images of created nature, and the diffol'ution of nature itfelf; after fuch a difplay of the fo- lemnities of the great day, as makes this world, and all its concerns fhrink into nothing : In fuch a moment, when, if ever, the rapt fpirit might be fuppofed too highly wrought for precept and admonition—the apoille wound up, as he was, by the.energies of infpiration, to the immediate view of the glorified hate — the fall trumpet founding— the A PRACTICAL PRINCIPLE. 49 the change from mortal to immortality ef- fedled in the twinkling of an eye — the fling of death drawn out — victory fnatched from the grave — then, by a turn, as furprifing as it is beautiful, he draws a conclufion as unexpe&edly pra&ical as his premifes were grand and awful:—“ Therefore , my beloved brethren, be ye ftedfaft, unmoveable, al¬ ways abounding in the work of the Lord. 5 ' Then at once, by another quick tranfition, reforting from the duty to the reward, and winding up the whole with an argument as powerful, as his rhetoric had been fublime he adds — u forafmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.” C 50 3 CHAP. III. (1 * ‘ '*’»*' y Miftakes in Religion. Xo point out with precifion all the miftakes which exift in the prefent day, on the awful fubjed of Religion, would far exceed the limits of this fmall work. No mention ^ ■« . . ’ * v/ ■. . -J. v 1 , therefore is intended to be made of the opinions or the pradice of any particular body of people; nor will any notice be taken of any of the peculiarities of the numerous feds and parties which have rifen up among us. It will be fufficient for the prefent pur- pofe, to hazard fome flight remarks on a few of thofe common clafles of charaders which belong more or lefs to mod general bodies. There are among many others, three dif¬ ferent forts of religious Profeflors. The religion of one confifts in a fturdy defence of what they themfelves call orthodoxy, an attendance > MISTAKES, . &C. Cl attendance on public worfhip, and a general decency of behaviour. In their views of religion, they are not a little apprehenfive of excefs, not perceiving that their danger lies on the other fide. They are far from rejecting faith or morals, but are fomewhat afraid of believing too much, and a little fcrupulous about doing too much, left the former be fufpe&ed of fanaticifm, and the latter of fmgularity. Thefe Chriflians con- fider Religion as a point, which they, by their regular obfervances, having attained, there is nothing further required but to maintain the point they have reached, by a repetition of the fame obfervances. They are therefore fatished to remain fcationary, con- fidering that whoever has obtained his end, is of courfe faved the labour of purfuit; he is to keep his ground without troubling h’mfelf in fearching after an imaginary per¬ fection. Thefe frugal Chriflians are afraid of nothing fo much as fuperfluity in their love, and fupererogation in their obedience. This D 2 kind a Of IkL UB fc 52 MISTAKES kind of fear however is always fuperfluous, but moll efpecially in thofe who are troubled with the apprehenfion. They are apt to v/eigh in the nicely poifed fcales of fcrupulous ^xa&nefs, the duties which mull of hard neceffity be done, and thofe which without much rifk may be left undone; compound¬ ing for a larger indulgence by the relinquilh- ment of a fmaller ; giving up, through fear, a trivial gratification to which they are lefs inclined, and fnatching doubtingly, as an equivalent, at one they like better. The gratification in both cafes being perhaps fuch as a manly mind would hardly think worth contending for, even were religion out of the queflion. Nothing but love to God can conquer love of the world. One grain of that divine principle would make the fcale of feif-indulgence kick the beam. Thefe Perfons dread nothing fo much as enthufiafm. Yet if to look for effects with¬ out their predifpofmg caufes \ to depend for Heaven on that to which Heaven was never promifed, be features of enthufiafm, then are they themfelves enthufialls. J The IN RELIGION. The religion of a fecond clafs, we have already defcrihed in the two preceding chap¬ ters. It confifts in a heart devoted to its maker ; inwardly changed in its temper and difpofition, yet deeply fenfible of its remain¬ ing infirmities ; continually afpiring however to higher improvements in faith, hope and charity, and thinking that cc the greatefl of thefe is charity ” Thefe, by the former clafs, are reckoned enthufiafts, but they are in fa£t, if Chriftianity be true, adting cn the only rational principles. If the dodlrines of the Gofpel have any folidity, if its promifes have any meaning, thefe Chriftians are building on no falfe ground. They hope that fubmiflion to the power of God, obedi¬ ence to his laws, compliance with his will, trufl in his word, are, through the efficacy of the eternal fpirit, real evidences, becaufe they are vital abts of genuine faith in Jefus Chrift. If they profefs not to place their reliance on works, they are however more zealous in performing them than the others, who, profeffing to depend on their good d 3 deads 54 MISTAKES deeds for falvation, are not always diligent in fecuring it by the very means which they themfelves eftablifh to be alone effectual. There is a third clafs — the high flown profeffor, who looks down from the giddy heights of antinomian delufion on the other two, abhors the one, and defpifes the other, concludes that the one is loft, and the other in a fair way to be fo. Though perhaps not living himfelf in any courfe of immorality, which requires the fan&ion of fuch doctrines, he does not hefitate to imply in his difcourfe, that virtue is heathenifh, and good works fuperfluous if not dangerous. He does not confider that though the Gofpel is an act of oblivion to penitent Tinners, yet it no where promifes pardon to thofe who continue to live in a ftate of rebellion againft God, and of difobedience to his laws. He forgets to infift to others that it is of little importance even to believe that ftn is an evil, (which however they do not always believe) while they perfift to live in it; that to know every thing of duty except the doing it, is to offend God IN RELIGION. 55 God with an aggravation, from which ig¬ norance itfelf is exempt. It is not giving ourfelves up to Chrift in a namelefs, inex- plicable way, which will avail us. God loves an humble, not an audacious faith. To fuppofe that the blood of Chrift redeems us from fin, while fin continues to pollute the Soul, is to fuppofe an impoftibility ; to maintain that it is effectual for the falvation, and not for the fanctification of the fmner, is to fuppofe that it acts like an amulet, an incantation, a talifman, which is to produce its. effect by operating on the imagination and not on the difeafe. The Religion which mixes with human pafiions, and is fet on fire by them, will make a ftronger blaze than that light which is from above, which fheds a fteady and lafting brightnefs on the path, and com¬ municates a fober but lafting warmth to the heart. It is equable and conftant; while the other, like culinary fire, fed by grofs materials, is extinguifhed the fooner from the fiercenefs of the flame. d 4 That MISTAKE* 5<5 That religion which is merely feated in the pafhons, is not only liable to wear itfelf out by its own impetuohty, but to be driven out by fome other paffion. The dominion or violent paffions is fhort, They difpofiefs each ether. When religion has had its day, it gives way to the next ufurper. Its empire is no more folid than it is lading, when principle and reafon do not fix it on the throne. The flrfl of the above claffes confider .* prudence as the paramount virtue in Re¬ ligion. Their antipodes, the flaming pro- feffors, believe a burning zeal to be the ex?* clufive grace. They reverfe Saint Paul’s collocation of the three Chriftian graces, and think that the greateft of thefe is faith • Though even in refpedt of this grace, their condudl and converfation too often give us reafon to lament that they do not bear in mind its genuine and diftin&ive properties* Their faith inflead of working by love, feems to be adopted from a notion that it leaves the Chriftian nothing to do, rather than IN RELIGION. 57 than becaufe it is its nature to lead him to do more and better than other men. In this cafe, as in many others, that which is dire&ly contrary to what is wrong, is wrong alfo. If each opponent would only barter half his favorite quality with the fa¬ vorite quality of the other, both parties would approach nearer to the truth. They might even furnifh a complete Chriflian be¬ tween them, that is, provided the zeal of the one was fincere, and the prudence of the other honeft. But the misfortune is, each is as proud of not polfeding the quality he wants, becaufe his adverfary has it, as he is proud of pofieffing that of which the other is defdtute, and becaufe he is deflitute of it. Among the many miftakes in religion, it is commonly thought that there is fomething fo unintelligible, abfurd, and fanatical in the term converfion, that thofe who employ it run no fmall hazard of being involved in the ridicule it excites. It is feldom ufed but ludicroully, or in contempt. This arifcs partly from the levity and ignorance of the D 5 cenfurer^ MISTAKES 58 cenfurer, but perhaps as much from the im¬ prudence and enthufiafm of thofe who have abfurdly confined it to real or fuppofed in- fiances of fudden or miraculous changes from profligacy to piety. But furely, with reafonable people, we run no rifk in avert¬ ing that he, who being awakened by any of thofe various methods which the Almighty ufes to bring his creatures to the knowledge of himfelf, who feeing the corruptions that are in the world, and feeling thofe with which his own heart abounds, is brought* whether gradually or more rapidly from an evil heart of unbelief, to a lively faith in the Redeemer; from a life, not only of grofs vice, but of worldlinefs and vanity, to a life of progreffive piety ; whofe humility keeps pace with his progrefs ; who, though his attainments are advancing, is fo far from counting himfelf to have attained, that he prefles onward with unabated zeal, and evi¬ dences, by the change in his conduct, the change that has taken place in his heart — iuch a one is furely as fmcerely converted* and IN RELIGION* 59 and the effeft is as much produced by tnm fame divine energy, as if fome inftantaneous revolution in his chara&er had given it a miraculous appearance. The do&rines of Scripture are the fame now as when David called them, “ a law converting the foul, and giving light to the eyes.” This is per¬ haps the mo ft accurate and comprehenfive definition of the change for which we are contending, for it includes both the illumi¬ nation of the underftanding, and the altera¬ tion in the difpofition. If then this obnoxious exprefTion fignify nothing more nor lefs than that change of character which confifts in turning from the world to God, however the term may offend, there is nothing ridiculous in the thing* Now, as it is not for the term which we con¬ tend, but for the principle conveyed by it; fo it is the principle and not the term, which is the real ground of objection ; though it is a little inconfiflent that many who would fneer at the idea of converfion, would yet take it extremely ill if it were fufpebted that their hearts were not turned to God. B 6 Reformation 9 6 0 MISTAKES Reformation , a term againfh which no ob¬ jection is ever made, would, if words conti¬ nued to retain their primitive fignification, convey the fame idea. For it is plain that to reform means to make anew. In the prefent ufe, however, it does not convey the meaning in the fame extent, nor indeed does it imply the operation of the fame principle; Many are reformed on human motives, many are partially reformed ; but only thofe who, as our great Poet fays, are “ reformed altogether,” are converted. There is no compleat reformation in the conduct effected without a revolution in the heart. Ceafmg from feme fms ; retaining others in a lefs degree ; or adopting fuch as are merely cre¬ ditable ; or flying from one fin to another; or ceafmg from the external a& without any internal change of difpofition, is not Chrif- tian reformation. The new principle mud aboiifh the old habit, the rooted inclination mull be fubdued by the fubflitution of an oppofite one. The natural bias mud be changed. The a&ual offence will no more be IN RELIGION. 6 1 be pardoned than cured if the inward cor¬ ruption be not eradicated. To be cc alive unto God through Jefus Chrifl” muft follow “ the death unto fin.” There cannot be new aims and ends where there is not a new principle to produce them. We fhall not chufe a new path until a light from Heaven diredt our choice and cc guide our feet.” We (hall not cc run the way of God’s com¬ mandments” till God himfelf enlarge out heart. We do not, however, infill that the change required is fuch as precludes the pollibility of falling into fin ; but it is a change which fixes in the Soul fuch a difpofition as {hall make fin a burden, as lhall make the defire of pieafmg God the governing defire of a man’s heart; as fhall make him hate the evil which he does ; as fhall make the low- nefs of his attainments the fubjedt of his deepefl forrow. A Chriflian has hopes and fears, cares and temptations, inclinations and defires, as well as other men. God in Hanging the heart does not extinguifh the paflions* 62 MISTAKES paflions. Were that the cafe, the Chriftian life would ceafe to be a warfare. We are often deceived by that partial im¬ provement which appears in the victory over fome one bad quality. But we muff not miflake the removal of a fymptom for a radical cure of the difeafe. An occafional remedy might remove an accidental ficknefs, but it requires a general regimen to renovate the difeafed conftitution. It is the natural but melancholy hiftory of the unchanged heart that, from youth to advanced years, there is no other revolution in the charadter but fuch as increafes both the number and quality of its defedts : that the levity, vanity, and felf fufficiency of the young man is carried into advanced life, and only meet, and mix with, the defects of a mature period ; that, inftead of crying out with the Royal Prophet, “ O remember not my old hns,” he is inflaming his reckon¬ ing by new ones: that age protradting all the faults of youth, furnifhes its own contingent of vices; that doth, fufpicion^ and IN RELIGION# and covetoufnefs, fwell the account which Religion has not been called in to cancel: that the world though it has loll the power to delight, has yet loll nothing of its power to enfiave. Inltead of improving in candor by the inward fenfe of its own defeds, that very confcioufnefs makes him lefs tolerant of the defeats of others, and more fufpicious of their apparent virtues. His charity in a warmer feafon having failed to bring him in that return of gratitude for which it was partly performed, and having never flowed from the genuine fpring, is dried up. His friendfhips having been formed on worldly principles, or intereft, or ambition, or convivial hilarity, fail him.” One mull make fome fome facrifices to the world, is the prevail¬ ing language of the nominal Chriftian* 66 What will the world pay you for your facrifices,” replies the real Chriftian l Though he finds that the world is infolvent, that it pays nothing of what it promifed, for it cannot bellow what it does not poflefs —- happinefs, yet he continues to ding to it aimed MISTAKES 64 almoft as confidently as if it had never dis¬ appointed him. —Were we called upon to name the obje. i * > • Let us not coniider a fpirit of worldlinefs as a little infirmity, as a natural and there¬ fore a pardonable weaknefs; as a trifling error v/hich will be overlooked for the fake of our many good qualities. It is in fadt the effence of our other faults. The temper that Hands between us and our falvation. The fpirit which is in diredt oppofidon to the fpirit of God. Individual fins may more eafily be cured, but this Is the principle of ail fpiritual difeafe. * A worldly fpirit where it 94 PERIODICAL RELIGION* it is rooted and cherifhed, runs through the whole character, infmuates itfelf in all we fay and think and do. It is this which makes us fo dead in religion, fo averfe from fpiritual things, fo forgetful of God, fo un¬ mindful of eternity,fo fatisfied with ourfelves, fo impatient of ferious difcourfe and fo alive to that vain and frivolous intercourfe which excludes intellect almoft as much as piety from our general converfation. It is not therefore our more confiderable actions alone which require watching, for they feldoin occur. They do not form the habit of life in ourfelves, nor the chief im¬ portance of our example to others. It is to our ordinary behaviour, it is to our deportment in common life ; it is to our prevailing turn of mind in general intercourfe, by which we fiiall profit or corrupt thofe with whom we afiociate. It is our conduct in focial life which will help to diffufe a fpirit of piety or a Giftafhe to it. If we have much in¬ fluence, this is the place in which particu¬ larly to exert it. If we have little, we have Hill PERIODICAL RELIGION. 95 dill enough to infhft the temper and lower the tone of our narrow fociety. If we really believe that it is the (Jefign of Chriilianity to raife us to a participation of the divine nature, the flighted reflection on this elevation of our character would lead us to maintain its dignity in the ordinary intercourfe of life. We ihould not fo much enquire whether we are tranfgrefimg any a&ual prohibition, whether any Handing law is pointed again!! us, as whether we are fup- porting the dignity of the Chridian charac¬ ter ; whether we are afiing fuitably to our profeilion; whether more exadtnefs in the common occurrences of the day, more cor- redhiefs in cur converfation, would not be fuch evidences of our religion, as by being obvious and intelligible, might not almod infendbly produce important effects. The mo!! infignificant people mud not through indolence and felfidmefs undervalue their own influence. Mod perfqns have a little circle of which they are a fort of centre. Its fmallnefs may leifen the.ir quantity of good §6 PERIODICAL RELIGION. /, good but does not diminiih the duty of ufmg that little influence wifely. Where is the human being fo inconfiderable but that he may in fome iliape benefit others, either by calling their virtues into exercife, or by fetting them an example of virtue himfelf ? But we are humble juft in the wrong place. When the exhibition of our talents or fplen- did qualities is in queftion, we are not back¬ ward in the difplay. When a little felf- denial is to be exerdied, when a little good might be effected by our example, by our difcreet management in company, by giving a better turn to converfation, then at once we grow wickedly modeft. — u Such an in- figiiificant creature as I am can do no good 5 ’ —Had I a higher rank or brighter talents, then indeed my influence might be exerted to fome purpofe.” — Thus under the mafk of diffidence, we juftify our indolence ; and let flip thofe Idler occafions of promoting religion which if we all improved, how much, might the condition of fociety be railed! The PERIODICAL RELIGION. 97 The hackneyed interrogation u What — muft we be always talking about religion mull have the hackneyed anfwer — Far from it. Talking about religion is not being re¬ ligious. But we may bring the fpirit of religion into company and keep it in perpe¬ tual operation when we do not profeflfediy make it our fubjeCt. We may be conflantly advancing it-s interefts, we may without effort or affectation be giving an example of can¬ dour, of moderation, of humility, of forbear- ance. We may employ our influence by cor¬ recting falfehood, by checking levity, by dif- couraging calumny, by vindicating mifre- prefented merit, by countenancing every thing which has a good tendency —- in fhort, by throwing our whole weight, be it great or fmall, into the right fcalp. F L 98 ] ■V' ♦ * P 4 . \ CHAP. V. Prayer. Prayer is the application of want to him who only can relieve it; the voice of fin to him who alone can pardon it. It is the urgency of poverty, the proftration of humi¬ lity, the fervency of penitence, the confi¬ dence of truft. It is not eloquence, but earneflnefs, not the definition of helpleffnefs, but the feeling of it; not figures of fpeech, but compunction of foul. It is the “ Lord fave us we perifh” of drowning Peter ; the cry of faith to the ear of mercy. Adoration is' the noblefl employment of created beings ; confeiTion the natural lan¬ guage of guilty creatures; gratitude the fpontaneous expreffion of pardoned fmners. Prayer is defire. It is not a conception of the mind, nor a mere effort of the intel¬ lect, nor an aCt of the memory; but an elevation PRAYER. 99 elevation of the foul towards its Maker; a prefling fenfe of our own ignorance and in¬ firmity, a confcioufnefs of the perfections of God, of his readinefs to hear, of his power to help, of his willingnefs to fave. It is not an emotion produced in the fenfes, nor an effeCt wrought by the imagi¬ nation ; but a determination of the will, an effufion of the heart, * Prayer is the guide to felf knowledge by prompting us to look after our fins in order to pray againfl them ; a motive to vigilance, by teaching us to guard againfl thofe fins which, through felf examination, we have been enabled to deteCL Prayer is an aCt both of the underflanding and of the heart. The underflanding mu ft apply itfelf to the knowledge of the divine perfections, or the heart will not be led to the adoration of them. It would not be a reafonable fervice, if the mind was excluded. It mufl be rational worfhip, or the human worfhipper would not bring to the fervice the diflinguifhing faculty of his nature^ - F2 / which IOO PRAYER. which is reafon. It mu ft be fpiritual wor- fhip or it would want the diftin&ive quality to make it acceptable to Him who has de¬ clared that He will be worlhipped “ in fpirit and in truth.” Prayer is right in itfelf as the moft power¬ ful means of refilling fin and advancing in holinefs. It is above all right, as every thing is, which has the authority of Scrip¬ ture, the command of God and the example of Chrift. There is a perfect confiftency in all the ordinations of God ; a perfect congruity in the whole fcheme of his difpenfations. If man were not a corrupt creature, fuch prayer as the Gofpel enjoins would not have been neceflfary. Had not prayer been an important means for curing thofe corrup¬ tions, a God of perfect wifdom would not have ordered it. He would not have pro¬ hibited every thing which tends to inflame and promote therti, had they not exifted, nor would he hrive commanded every thing that has a tendency to diminilh and remove *2 them. PRAYER, ioi them, had not their exigence been fataL Prayer therefore is an indifpenfible part of his economy and of our obedience. It is a hackneyed objection to the ufe of prayer that it is offending the omnifcience of God to fuppofe he requires information of our wants. But no objection can be more futile. We do not pray to inform God of our wants but to exprefs our fenfe of the wants which he already knows. As he has not fo much made his promife to our neceffities, as to our requefts, it is rea- fonable that our requefts fhould be made before we can hope that our neceffities will be relieved. God does not promife tothofe who want that they fhall “ have,’’ but to thofe who “ afknor to thofe who need that they fhall u find,” but to thofe who “ feek.” So far therefore from his pre^ vious knowledge of our wants being a ground of obje&ion to prayer, it is in fa£t the true ground for our application. Were he not Knowledge itfelf, our information would be of as little ufe, as our appli- f 3 cation 2 02 PRAYER. cation would be, were he not Goodnefs itfelf. We cannot attain to a juft notion of prayer while we remain ignorant of our own nature, of the nature of God as revealed in Scripture, of our relation to him and depen- dance on him. If therefore we do not live in the daily ftudy of the holy Scriptures, we fhall want the higheft motives to this duty and the beft helps for performing it; if we do, the cogency of thefe motives, and the ineftimable value of thefe helps, will render argument unneceffary and exhortation fu- perfluous. One caufe therefore of the dullnefs of many Chriftians in prayer, is, their flight acquaintance with the Sacred volume. They hear it periodically, they read it occafionally, they are contented to know it hiftorically, to confider it fuperficially; but they do not endeavour to get their minds imbued with its Spirit. Tf they ftore their memory with its fa£ls, they do not imprefs their hearts with its truths. They do not regard it as the PRAYER. *93 the nutriment on which their fpiritual life and growth depend. They do not pray over it; they do not confider all its doc¬ trines as of practical application ; they do not cultivate that fpiritual difcernment which alone can enable them judicioufly to appro¬ priate its promifes and its denunciations to their own a&ual cafe. They do not apply it as an unerring line to afcertain their own re&itude or obliquity. In our retirements, we too often fritter away our precious moments, moments ref- cued from the world, in trivial, fometimes it is to be feared, in corrupt thoughts. But if we mufl give the reins to our imagina¬ tion, let us fend this excurfive faculty to range among great and noble objects. Let it flretch forward under the fan&ion of faith and the anticipation of prophecy, to the ac- complilhment of thofe glorious promifes and tremendous threatenings which will foon be realized in the eternal world. Thefe are topics which under the fafe and fober p 4 guidance JQ4 PRAtER. guidance of Scripture, will fix its larged fpeculadons and fudain its loffied flights. The fame Scripture while it expands and elevates the mind, will keep it fubjed to the dominion of truth ; while at the fame time it will teach it that its bolded excurfions mud fall infinitely Ihort of the adonilhing realities of a future date. Though we cannot pray with a too deep fenfe of fin, we may make our fins too ex¬ ecutively the objed of our praters. While we keep, with a felf-abafing eye, Our own corruptions in view, let us look with equal intentnefs on that mercy, which cleanfeth from all fin. Let our prayers be all humi¬ liation, but let them not be all Complaint. When men indulge no other thought but that they are rebels, the hopeleflhefs of par¬ don hardens them into difloyalty. Let them look to the mercy of the King, as well as to the rebellion of the Subjed. If we contem¬ plate his grace as difplayed in the Gofpel, then, though our humility will increafe, our defpair PRAYER. IO5 defpair will vanifh. Gratitude in this as in human inftances will create affeCtion. “ We love him becaufe he firft loved us.’’ Let us then always keep our unworthinefs in view as a reafon why we ftand in need of the mercy of God in Chrift; but never plead it as a reafon why we fhould not draw nigh to him to implore that mercy. The bell men are unworthy for their own fakes \ the word on repentance will be accepted for his fake and through his merits. In prayer then, the perfections of God, and efpeciallv his mercies in our redemption, fhould occupy our thoughts as much as our fins ; our obligation to him as much as our departures from him. We fhould keep up in our hearts a conftant fenfe of our own weaknefs, not with a defign to difcourage the mind and deprefs the fpirits; but with a view to drive us out of ourfelves, in fearch of the divine afliftance. We fhould contem¬ plate our infirmity in order to draw us to look for his flrength, and to feek that power from God which we vainly look for in our- F 5 felves: PRAYER. io 6 felves : We do not tell a lick friend of his danger in order to grieve or terrify him, but to induce him to apply to his Phyfician, and to have recourfe to his remedy. Among the charges which have been brought againft ferious piety, one is that it teaches men to defpair. The charge is juft in one fenfe as to the fad, but falfe in the fenfe intended. It teaches us to defpair indeed of ourfelves, while it inculcates that faith in a Redeemer, which is the true anti¬ dote to defpair. Faith quickens the doubting fpirit while it humbles the prefumptuous. The lowly Chriftian takes comfort in the bleifed promife, that God will never forfake them that are his. The prefumptuous mail is equally right in the dodrine, but wrong in applying it. He takes that comfort to himfelf which was meant for another clafs of charaders. The mal-appropriation of Scripture promifes, and threatenings, is the caufe of much error and delufion. Though fome devout enthufiafts have fallen into erroT by an unnatural and imprac¬ ticable PRAYER. •ic 7 ticable difintereftednefs, averting that God is to be loved exclufively for himfelf with an abfolute renunciation of any view of ad r vantage to ourfelves ; yet that prayer cannot be mercenary, which involves God’s glory with our own happinefs, and makes his will the law of our requefts. Though we are to defire the glory of God fupremely; though this ought to be our grand actuating principle, yet he has gracioufly permitted, commanded, invited us, to attach our own happinefs to this primary objedt. The Bible exhibits not only a beautiful, but an infepa- rable combination of both, which delivers us from the danger of unnaturally renouncing our own benefit, for the promotion of God’s glory on the one hand; and on the other, from feeking any happinefs independent of him, and underived from him. In enjoining us to love him fupremely, he has conne6ted an unfpeakable blefling with a paramount duty, the higheft privilege with the mofl pofitive command. What a triumph for the humble Chrillian to be allured, that “ the high and lofty one f 6 which 108 PRAYER. 0 i ^ * «. - »* • which inhabiteth eternity,” condefcends at the fame time to dwell in the heart of the contrite ; in his heart! To know that God is the God of his life, to know that he is even invited to take the Lord for his God. — To clofe with God’s offers, to accept his invitations, to receive God as his portion, muff furely be more pleaffng to our heavenly Father, than feparating our happinefs from his glory. To difconrteCt our inter efts from his gcodnefs, is at once to detract from his perfe&icms, and to obfcure the brightnefs of our own hopes. The declarations of infpired Writers are confirmed by the authority of the heavenly hofts. They proclaim that the glory of God and the happinefs of his crea¬ tures, fo far from interfering, are connected with each other. We know but of one Anthem compofed and fung by Angels, and this moft harmonioufly combines “ the glory of God in the higheft with peace on earth and good will to men.” “ The beauty of Scripture” fays the great Saxon Reformer, “ confiffs in pronouns.” This- God is our God — God even ©ur own PUAYEU, 109 own God fhall blefs us — How delightful the appropriation! to glorify him as being in himfelf confummate excellence, and to love him from the feeling that this excellence is directed to our felicity! Here modefty would be ingratitude, difm'terertednefs, rebel¬ lion. It would be fevering ourfelves from him, in whom we live, and move, and are ; it would be dilfolving the connexion which he has condefcended to eflablifh between; himfelf and his Creatures. It has been juflly obferved, that the Scripture Saints make this union the chief ground of their grateful exultation ; — u My ftrength,” C5 my rock/’ “ niy fortrefs,” u my deliverer!” again “ let the God of my fal- vation be exalted !” Now take away the pronoun and fubftitute the article the , how comparatively cold is the imprefiion ! The confummation of the joy arifes frofti the peculiarity, the intimacy, the endearment of the relation. Nor to the liberal chriiTiah is the grateful joy diminifhed, when he blefTes his God as “ the I 10 PRAYER. “ the God of all them that trufl in him/’ All general blefftngs, will he fay, all provi¬ dential mercies, are mine individually, are mine as completely, as if no other (hared in the enjoyment. Life, light, the earth and heavens, the Sun and Stars, whatever fuftains the body, and recreates the fpirits! My obli¬ gation is as great as if the mercy had been made purely for me; as great ? nay it is greater — it is augmented by a fenfe of the millions who participate in the bleffing* The fame enlargement of perfonal obliga¬ tion holds good, nay rifes higher in the mercies of Redemption. The Lord is my Saviour as completely as if he had redeemed only me. That he has redeemed “ a great multitude which no man can number, of all nations and kindreds and people and tongues” is diffufion without abatement; it - * is general participation without individual diminution. Each has all. In adoring the Providence of God, we are apt to be (truck with what is new and out of courfe, while we too much overlook long* PRAYER. Ill long, habitual, and uninterrupted mercies. But common mercies, if lefs finking are more valuable, both becaufe we have them always, and for the reafon above afligned, becaufe others fhare them. The ordinary bleflings of life are overlooked for the very reafon that they ought to be mofl prized, becaufe they are mofl uniformly bellowed. They are mofl effential to our fupport, and when once they are withdrawn we begin to find that they are alfo mofl effential to our comfort. Nothing raifes the price of a blefling like its removal, whereas it was its continuance which fhould have taught us its value. We require novelties, to awaken our gratitude, not confidering that it is the duration of mercies which enhances their value. We want frefh excitements. We confider mercies long enjoyed as things of courfe, as things to which we have a fort of prefumptive claim; as if God had no right to withdraw what he has once bellowed, as if he were obliged to continue what he has once been pleafed to confer. But 11 1 PRAYER. But that the Sun has fhone unremittingly from the day that God created him, is not a Iefs ftupendous exertion of power than that the hand which fixed him in the heavens, and marked out his progrefs through them, once faid by his fervant, “ Sun, fland thou (till upon Gibeon.’’ That he has gone on in his ftrength, driving his uninterrupted ca¬ reer, and u rejoicing as a Giant to run his courfe,” for fix thoufand years, is a more aftonifhing exhibition of Omnipotence than that he fhould have been once fufpended by the hand which fet him in motion. That f ? affedion, always prepared to revolt, when the will of the fovereign is in oppolition to that of the fubjed. This feditious principle is the infallible charaderiftic of an unre¬ newed mind. A fincere love of God will make us thankful when our fupplications are granted, and patient and cheerful when they are de¬ nied. He who feels his heart rife againft any divine difpenfation ought not to reft till by ferious mediation and earneft prayer it be moulded into fubmifllon. An habit of ac- quiefcence in the will of God, will fo operate on the faculties of his mind, that even his judgment will embrace the convidion, that what he once fo ardently defired, would not have been that good thing, which his blindnefs had confpired with his wifhes to make him believe it to be. He will recoiled the many inftances in which if his impor¬ tunity m PRAYER. 1 16 tunity had prevailed, the thing which ig* norance requefted, and wifdom denied, would have infured his mifery. Every frefh difappointment will teach him to diflruft himfelf and to confide in God. Experience will inflrudt him that there may be a better way of hearing our requefts than that of granting them. Happy for us that He to whom they are addreffed knows which is bed, and a£ts upon that knowledge. Still lift for good the fupplicating voice. But leave to Heaven the meafure and the choice j. Implore his aid, in his decisions reft. Secure whate’er he gives, he gives the belt. We lhould endeavour to render our pri¬ vate devotions effedual remedies for our own particular fins. Prayer againfl fin in general is too indefinite to reach the individual cafe. We mull bring it home to our own heart, elfe we may be confeffmg another man’s fins arid overlooking our own. If we have any predominant fault, we fliould pray more efpecially againfl that fault. If We pray for any virtue of which we particularly Hand in need, PRAYER. need, we fliould dwell on our own defi- ciences in that virtue, till our fouls become deeply affe&ed with our want of it. Our prayers Ihould be circumftantial, not as was before obferved for the information of infinite wifdom, but for the ftirring up of our own dull affections. And as the recapitulation of our wants tends to keep up a fenfe of our dependence, the enlarging on our efpecial mercies will tend to keep alive a fenfe of gratitude. While indifcriminate petitions, confefiions, and thankfgivings, leave the mind to wander in indefinite devotion and unaffeCting generalities, without perfonality and without appropriation. It mult be ob¬ vious that we except thofe grand univerfai points in which all have an equal inter eft, and which mull; always form the elfence of public prayer. On the blefiing attending importunity in prayer, the Gofpel is abundantly explicit. God perhaps delays to give that we may perfevere in a (king. He may require, im¬ portunity for our own fakes, that the fre¬ quency PRAYER. ti8 quency and urgency of the petition may bring our hearts into that frame to which he will be favorable. As we ought to live in a fpirit of obedience to his commands, fo we ffiould live in a frame of waiting for his bleffing on our prayers, and in a fpirit of gratitude when we have obtained it. This is that “ pre¬ paration of the heart” which would always keep us in a pofture for duty. If we defert the duty becaufe an immediate bleffing does not vifibly attend it, it ffiews that we do not ferve God out of confcience but felfiffinefs; that we grudge expending on him that fer- •vice which brings us in no immediate intereft. •Though he grant not our petition, let us never be tempted to withdraw our appli¬ cation. Our relu&ant devotions may remind us of the remark of a certain great political wit, who apologized for his late attendance in Parliament, by his being detained while a party of foldiers were dragging a volunteer to his duty. How many excufes do we find *1 for PRAYER. IY9 for not being in time ! How many apologies for brevity! How many evafions for negledt I How unwilling, too often, are we to come into the divine prefence, how reluctant to remain in it! Thofe hours which are leaft valuable for bufinefs, which are lead feafon- able for pleafure, we commonly give to re¬ ligion. Our energies, which were fo exerted in the fociety we have juft quitted, are funk as we approach the divine prefence. Our hearts, which were all alacrity in fome fri¬ volous con verfation, become cold and inani¬ mate, as if it were the natural property of devotion to freeze the affe&ions. Our animal fpirits which fo readily performed their fun&ions before, now flacken their vigour and lofe their vivacity. The fluggilh body fympthathizes with the unwilling mind, and each promotes the deadnefs of the other; both are flow in liftening to the call of duty ; both are foon weary in performing it. As prayer requires all the energies of the com¬ pound being of man, fo we too often feel as if there were a confpiracy of body, foul, and 120 PRAYER. and fpirit, to difincline and difqualify us for it. When the heart is once fincerely turned to religion, We need not, every time we pray, examine into every truth, and feek for con¬ viction over and over again ; hut affume that thofe do&rines are true, the truth of which we have already proved. From a general and fixed imprelfion of thefe principles, will refult a tafte, a difpofednefs, a love, fo inti¬ mate, that the convictions of the underhand- mg will become the affections of the heart. To be deeply imprefied with a few fun¬ damental truths, to digeft them thoroughly, to meditate on them ferioufly, to pray over them fervently, to get them deeply rooted in the heart, will be more productive of faith and hoJinefs, than to labour after variety, ingenuity, or elegance. The indulgence of imagination will rather diftraCt than edify. Searching after ingenious thoughts will rather divert the attention from God to ourfelves, than promote that fixednefs of thought, that finglenefs of intention, and devotednefs of » PRAYER*. 121 of fpirit, whatever is fubtil and refined, is in danger of being unfcriptural. If we do not guard the mind it will learn to wander in quefl of novelties. It will learn to fet more value on original thoughts than devout affe&ions. It is the bufinefs of prayer to cafl down imaginations which gratify the natural activity of the mind, while they leave the heart unhumbled. We fhould confine ourfelves to the prefent bufinefs of the prefent moment; we fhould keep the mind in a flate of perpetual de¬ pendence ; we fhould entertain no long views. tc Now is the accepted time.” “ To-day we mull hear his voice.” u Give us this day our daily bread.” The manna will not keep till to-morrow : to-morrow will have its own wants, and muft have its own petitions. To-morrow we mull feek the bread of heaven afrefh. We fhould however avoid coming to our devotions with unfurnifhed minds.' We fhould be always laying in materials for prayer, by a diligent courfe of ferious read¬ er ing, 122 PRAYER. ing, by treafuring up in our minds the moil important truths. If we rufh into the divine prefence with a vacant or ignorant or un¬ prepared mind, with a heart full of the world; as we fhall feel no difpofition or qualification for the work we are about to engage in, fo we cannot expeCt, that our petitions will be heard or granted. There muft be fome congruity between the heart and the objeCt, fome affinity between the itate of our minds and the bufinefs in which they are employed, if we would expeCt fuc- cefs in the work. We are often deceived both as to the principle and the effect of our prayers. When from fome external caufe the heart is glad, the fpirits light, the thoughts ready, the tongue voluble, a kind of fpontaneous eloquence is the refult; with this we are pleafed, and this ready flow we are willing to impofe on ourfelves for piety. On the other hand when the mind is de¬ jected, the animal fpirits low, the thoughts confufed $ when appofite words do not readily PRAYER. readily prefent themfelves, we are apt to ac- cufe our hearts of want of fervor, to lament our weaknefs and to mourn that becaufe we have had no pleafure in praying, our prayers have, therefore, not afcended to the throne of mercy. In both cafes we perhaps judge ourfelves unfairly. Thefe unready accents, thefe flattering praifes, thefe ill-exprefled petitions, may find more acceptance than the florid talk with which we were fo well fatisfied: The latter confided it may be of jfhining thoughts, floating on the fancy, eloquent words dwelling only on the lips ; the former was the fighing of a contrite heart, abafed by the feeling of its own un- worthinefs, and awed by the perfections of a holy and heart-fearching God. The heart is diflatisfied with its own dull and taftelefs repetitions, which, with all their imperfections, infinite goodnefs may perhaps hear with fa¬ vour*.— We may not only be elated with the * Of thefe fort of repetitions, our admirable Church Liturgy has been accufed as a fault j but this defedf, G 2 if 124 PRAYER. the fluency but even with the fervency of our prayers. Vanity may grow out of the very a£t of renouncing it, and we may begin to feel proud at having humbled ourfelves fo eloquently. There is however a drain and fpirit of prayer equally diftinct from that facility and copioufnefs for which we certainly are never the better in the fight of God, and from that condraint and drynefs for which we may be never the worfe. There is a fimple, folid, pious drain of prayer in which the fupplicant is fo fdled and occupied with a fenfe of his own dependence, and of the importance of the things for which he afks, and fo per- fuaded of the power and grace of God through Chrid to give him thofe things, if it be one, happily accommodates itfelf to our infir¬ mities. Where is the favored being whofe attention never wanders, whofe heart accompanies his lips in every fentence ? Is there no abfence of mind in the petitioner, no wandering of the thoughts, no incon- ftancy of the heart, which thefe repetitions are wifely calculated to corredt, to roufe the dead attention, to bring back the ftrayed affections. *4 that PRAYER. 125 that while he is engaged in it, he does not merely imagine, but feels allured that God is nigh to him as a reconciled father, fo that every burden and doubt are taken off from his mind. “ He knows,” as St. John ex- prelfes it, “ that he has the petitions he de- lired of God” and feels the truth of that promife u while they are yet fpeaking I will hear,” This is the perfe&ion of prayer. CULTIVATION ©F 1^6 CHAP. VL . . * j j 4 l / ( Cultivation of a Devotional Spirit. XO maintain a devotional Spirit, two things are efpecially necefiary — habitually to culti¬ vate the difpofition, and habitually to avoid whatever is unfavourable to it. Frequent retirement and recolle&ion are indifpenfable* together with fuch a general courfe of read¬ ing, as if it do not a&ually promote the fpirit we are endeavouring to maintain, fhall never be hoflile to it. We fhould avoid as much as in us lies all fuch fociety, all fuch amufe- ments as excite tempers, which it is the daily bufmefs of a Chriftian to fubdue, and all thofe feelings which it is his conflant duty to fupprefs. And here may we venture to obferve, that if fome things which are apparently innocent* and do not alfume an alarming afpeft, or bear a dangerous chara&er 5 things which the ge¬ nerality A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT, 12 } nerality of decorous people affirm, (how truly we know not) to be fafe for them; yet if we find that thefe things ftir up in us im¬ proper propenfities, if they awaken thoughts which ought not to be excited ; if they abate our love for religious exercifes, or infringe on our time for performing them ; if they make fpiritual concerns appear infipid, if they wind our heart a little more about the world; in fhort, if we have formerly found them injurious to our own fouls, then let no example or perfuafion, no belief of their alledged innocence, no plea of their perfect fafety, tempt us to indulge in them. It matters little to our fecurity what they are to others. Our bufinefs is with ourfelves. Our refponfibility is on our own heads. Others cannot know the fide on which we are affailable. Let our own unbiaffed judg^ ment determine our opinion, let our own ex¬ perience decide for our own conduct. In fpeaking of books, we cannot forbear noticing that very prevalent fort of reading, which is little lefs productive of evil, little g 4 lefs 120 CULTIVATION OF lefs prejudicial to moral and mental improve-* ment, than that which carries a moreformi*- dable appearance. We cannot confine our cenfure to thofe more corrupt writings which deprave the heart, debauch the ima¬ gination, and poifon the principles. Of thefe the turpitude is fo obvious, that no caution on this head, it is prefumed, can be neceflary. But if juftice forbids us to confound the in- fipid with the mifchievous, the idle with the vicious, and the frivolous with the profligate, {till we can only admit of {hades, deep {hades' we allow, of difference. Thefe works, if comparatively harmlefs, yet debafe the tafte* ✓ flacken the intellectual nerve, let down the underftanding, fet the fancy loofe, and fend it gadding among low and mean objeCts. They not only run away with the time which fhould be given to better things, but gradually deftroy all tafte for better things. They fink the mind to their own ftandard* and give it a flugglifh reluctance, we had almoft faid, a moral incapacity for every thing above their level. The mind, by long . habit A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 1 29 habit of {looping, lofes its ereftnefs, and yields to its degradation. It becomes fo low and narrow by the littlenefs of the things which engage it, that it requires a painful effort to lift itfelf high enough, or to open itfelf wide enough, to embrace great and noble objects. The appetite is vitiated. Excefs, inflead of producing a furfeit, by weakening the digeflion only induces a loath¬ ing for flronger nourishment. The faculties which might have been expanding in works of Science, or Soaring in the contemplation of genius, become Satisfied with the imperti¬ nences of the mofl ordinary fiflion, lofe their relifh for the Severity of truth, the elegance of tafle, and the fobernefs of religion. Lulled in the torpor of repofe, the intellect dozes, and enjoys in its waking dream, r ■*" - ■ - ^ - All the wild trafli of deep, without the reft. In avoiding books which excite the paf- fions, it would feem ftrange to include even Lome devotional works. Yet fuch as merely .kindle warm feelings, are not always thefafefl. 4 G 5 Let CULTIVATION OF * 3 ° Let us rather prefer thofe, which while they tend to raife a devotional fpirit, awaken the affe&ions without difordering them, which while they elevate the defires, purify them; which ffiew us our own nature, and lay open its corruptions. Such as ffiew us the malig¬ nity of fm, the deceitfulnefs of our hearts, the feeblenefs of our bell refolutions; fuch as teach us to pull off the maffi from the fairefl appearances, and difcover every hiding place, where fome lurking evil would con¬ ceal itfelf; fuch as fhew us not what we appear to others, but what we really are; fuch as co-operating with our interior feel¬ ings, and {hewing us our natural Hate, point out our abfolute need of a Redeemer, lead us to feek to him for pardon from a convic¬ tion that there is no other refuge, no other falvation. Let us be converfant with fuch writings as teach us that while we long to obtain the remiffion of our tranfgreffions* we muff not defire the remiffion of our duties. Let us feek for fuch a Saviour as will not only deliver us from the pu- niffiment A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 131 niffiment of fin, but from its dominion alfo. And let us ever bear in mind that the end of prayer is not anfwered when the Prayer is finiffied. We ffiould regard prayer as a means to a farther end. The aft of prayer is not fufficient, we mull cultivate a fpirit of prayer. And though when the adtual devotion is over, we cannot, amid the diftradtions of company and bufinefs, always be thinking of heavenly things; yet the defire, the frame, the propenfity, the willing- nefs to return to them We mull, however difficult, endeavour to maintain. The proper temper for prayer ffiould pre¬ cede the adt. The difpofition ffiould be wrought in the mind before the exercife is begun. To bring a proud temper to an humble prayer, a luxurious habit to a felf- denying prayer, or a worldly difpofition to a fpiritually minded prayer, is a pofitive anomaly. A habit is more powerful than an adf, and a previoufly indulged temper dur¬ ing the day will not, it is to be feared, be G 6 fully CULTIVATION OF *32 fully counteracted by the exercife of a fevr minutes devotion at night. Prayer is defigned for a perpetual reno¬ vation of the motives to virtue, if therefore the caufe is not followed by its confequence*, a confequence inevitable but for the impedi¬ ments we bring to it, we rob our nature of its higheft privilege, and run the danger of incurring a penalty where we are looking for a bleffing. That the habitual tendency of the life fhould be the preparation for the Hated prayer, is naturally fuggefted to us by our blelfed Redeemer in his Sermon on the Mount. He announced the precepts of holinefs, and their correfponding beatitudes 5 he gave the fpiritual expofition of the Law, the directions for alms-giving, the exhorta¬ tion to love our enemies, nay the effence and fpirit of the whole Decalogue, previous to his delivering his own divine prayer as a pattern for our’s. Let us learn from this that the prepaiation of prayer is therefore to live in all thofe purfuits which we may v * fafely A DEVOTIONAL SPIfcXT. 133. fafely beg of God to blefs, and in a conflict' with all thofe temptations into which we pray not to be led. If God be the centre to which our hearts are tending, every line in our lives mull meet in him. With this point in view there will be a harmony between our prayers and our practice, a confiflency between de¬ votion and conduct, which will make every part turn to this one end, bear upon this one point. For the beauty of the Chriftian fcheme confifts not in parts, (however good in themfelves) which tend to feparate views, and lead to different ends ; but it arifes from its being one entire, uniform, connected plan, * and hourly vexations, which occur even in 15 the Ij8 THE HAND OF GOD, &C. the moft profperous date, and which are in- feparable from the condition of humanity. We muft trace that fame beneficient handy > fecretly at work for our purification, our correction, our weaning from life, in the imperfections and difagreeablenefs of thofe who may be about us, in the perverfenefs of thofe with whom we tranfaCt bufmefs, and in thofe interruptions which break in on our favourite engagements. We are perhaps too much addicted to our innocent delights, or we are too fond of our leifure, of our learned, even of our reli¬ gious leifure. But while we fay, it is good for us to be here, the divine vifion is with* drawn, and we are compelled to come down from the mount. Or, perhaps, we do not improve our retirement to the purpofes for which k was granted, and to which we had refolved to devote it, and our time is broken in upon to make us more fenfible of its value. Or we feel a complacency in our leifure, a pride in our books; perhaps we feel proud of the good things we are intend¬ ing THE HAND OF GOD, &C. 1 79 itig to fay, or meditating to write, or pre¬ paring to do. A check is necefiary, yet it is given in a way alinofl imperceptible. The hand that gives it is unfeen, is unfufpe&ed, yet it is the fatne gracious hand which di¬ rects the more important events of life. An importunate application, a difqualifying though not fevere indifpofition, a family avocation, a letter important to the writer, but unfeafonable to us, breaks in on our projected privacy; calls us to a facrihce of our inclination, to a renunciation of our own « will. Thefe incelfant trials of temper, if well improved, may be more falutary to the mind, than the fined: paifage we had intended to read, or the fublimefl: fentiment we had fancied we Ihould write. Inftead then of going in fearch of great mortifications, as a certain clafs of pious writers recommend, let us chearfully bear, and dili¬ gently improve thefe inferior trials which God prepares for us. Submifiion to a crofs which he inflidts, to a difappointment which he fends, to a contradi&ion of our felf-love, 16 which I So THE HAND OF GOD, &C, which he appoints, is a far better exercife* than great penances of our own chufing. Perpetual conquefts over impatience, ill- temper, and felf-will, indicate a better fpirit than any felf-impofed mortifications. We may traverfe oceans and fcale mountains on uncommanded pilgrimages, without pleafing God ; we may pleafe him without any other exertion than by eroding our own will. Perhaps you had been bufying your ima¬ gination with fome projected fcheme, not only lawful, but laudable. The defign was radically good, but the fuppofed value of your own agency, might too much interfere, might a little taint the purity of your befl intentions. The motives were fo mixed that it was difficult to feparate them. Sudden iicknefs obftru&ed the defign. You natu¬ rally lament the failure, not perceiving that, however good the work might be for others, the ficknefs was better for yourfelf. An a£t of charity was in your intention, but God faw that your foul required the exercife 4 of THE HAND OF GOD, &C* l8l of a more difficult virtue; that humility and refignation, that the patience, acquiefcence, and contrition, of a Tick bed, were more necef- fary for you. He accepts the meditated work as far as it was defigned for his glory, but he calls his fervant to other duties, which were more falutary for him, and of which the mailer was the better judge. He fets afide his work, and orders him to wait; the more difficult part of his talk. As far as your motive was pure, you will receive the reward of your unperformed charity, though not the gratification of the performance. If it was not pure, you are refcued from the danger attending a right adlion performed on a worldly principle. You may be the better Chrillian though one good deed is fubtradled from your catalogue. By a life of a&ivity and ufefulnefs, you had perhaps attracted the public elleem. An animal a&ivity had partly llimulated your exertions. The love of reputation begins to mix itfelf with your better motives. You do not, it is prefumed, a£t entirely, or chiefly 102 THE HAND OF GOD, &C, chiefly for human applaufe; but you are too fenfible to it. It is a delicious poifon which begins to infufe itfelf into your pureft cup. You acknowledge indeed the fublimity of higher motives, but do you never feel that, feparated from this accompaniment of felf, they would be too abftraCted, too fpe- culative, and might become too little pro¬ ductive both of activity and of fenfible gra¬ tification. You begin to feel the human in¬ centive iieceflary, and your fpirits would flag if it were withdrawn. This fenfibility to praife would gradually tarnifh the purity of your belt aCtions. He who fees your heart, as well as your works, mercifully fnatches you from the perils of profperity. Malice is awakened. Your molt meritorious aCtions are afcribed to the moft corrupt motives. You are attacked juft where your character is lead vulnerable. The enemies whom your fuccefs raifed up, are raifed up by God, lefs to punifh than to fave you. We are far from meaning that he can ever be the author of evil j he does not THE HAND OF GOD, &C. 1 83 not excite or approve the calumny, but he ufes your calumniators as inftruments of your purification. Your fame was too dear to you. It is a coftly facrifice, but God re¬ quires it. It mufl be offered up. You would gladly compound for any, for every other offering, but this is the offering he chufes : and while he gracioufly continues to employ you for his glory, he thus teaches you to re¬ nounce your own. He fends this trial as a teft, by which you are to try yourfelf. He thus inftru&s you not to abandon your Chriflian exertions, but to elevate the prin¬ ciple which infpired them, to defecate it from all impure admixtures. By thus (tripping the mofl engaging em- ployments of this dangerous delight, by in- fufing fome drops of falutary bitternefs into your fweeteft draught, by fome of thefe ill- tafted but wholefome mercies, he gracioufly compels us to return to himfelf. By taking away the flays by which we are perpetually propping up our frail delights, they fall to the ground. We are, as it were, driven back 1 84 THE HAND OF GOD, &C. back to Him, who condefcends to receive us, after we have tried every thing elfe, and after every thing elfe has failed us, and though he knows we fhould not have return¬ ed to him if every thing elfe had not failed us. He makes us feel our weaknefs, that we may have recourfe to his ftrength, he makes us fenfible of our hitherto unperceived fins, that we may take refuge in his everlaft- ing compaflion. C I8j ] CHAP. IX. Chriftianity univerfal in its Requifitions. IT is not unufual to fee people get rid of fome of the moil awful injunctions, and emancipate themfelves from fome of the moil folemn requifitions of Scripture, by affeCting to believe that they do not apply to them* They confider them as belonging exclufively to the firft age of the Gofpel, and to the in¬ dividuals to whom they were immediately addreffed ; confequently the neceflity to ob- lerve them does not extend, to perfons under an eftablifhed Chriftianity, to hereditary Chriftians. Thefe exceptions are particularly applied to fome of the leading doCtrines, fo forcibly and repeatedly preffed in the Epiftles. The reafoners endeavour to perfuade them¬ felves that it was only the Ephefians u who were dead in trefpaffes and fins” — that it was I 86 CHRISTIANITY UNIVERSAL was only the Galatians who were enjoined “ not to fulfil the lufls of the flefli” —- that it was only the Philippians who were cc ene¬ mies to the Crofs of Chrift. 55 They fhelter themielves under the comfortable affurance of a geographical fecurity. As they know r _ that they are neither Ephefians, Galatians, nor Philippians, they have of courfe little or nothing to do with the reproofs, expoftula- tions, or threatenings which were originally directed to the converts among thofe people. They confole themfelves with the belief that it was only thefe Pagans who “ walked ac¬ cording to the courfe of this world 55 — who were “ flrangers from the covenants of pro- mife 55 — “ and who were without God in the world. 55 But thefe felf-fatisfied Critics would do well to learn that not only “ circumcifion nor uncircumcifion, 55 but baptifm or no bap- tifm u availeth nothing 55 (I mean as a mere form) “ but a new creature. 55 An irre¬ ligious profeffor of Chriftianity is as much w a ftranger and foreigner, 55 as a heathen ; he IN ITS REQUISITIONS* I 87 he is no more to one’s valet de chambre.” In all that relates to God and to him- felf, the Chriftian knows of no fmall -faults. He confiders all allowed and wilful Tins, whatever be their magnitude, as an of- l 6 fence 228 ON THE COMPARATIVELY * * ''*_•* % fence againfl: his Maker. Nothing that of¬ fends him can be infignificant. Nothing that contributes to fallen on ourfelves a wrong habit can be trifling. Faults which we are accuflomed to confider as fmall, are repeated without compunction. The habit of com¬ mitting them is confirmed by the repetition. Frequency renders us at firfl: indifferent, then infenfible. The hopeleflhefs attending a long indulged cuftom generates careleflnefs, till for want of exercife the power of refift- ance is firfl; weakened, then deftroyed. But there is a (till more ferious point of view in which the fubjeCt may be confidered. Do fmall faults continually repeated, always retain their original diminutivenefs ? Is any axiom more eftablifhed than that all evil is of a progreffive nature? Is a bad temper which is never reprefied, no worfe after years of indulgence, than when we firfl: gave the reins to it ? Does that which we firfl; allowed ourfelves under the name of harmlefs levity on ferious fubje&s, never proceed to pro- fanenefs ? Does what was once admired as »• •» proper SMALL FAULTS AND VIRTUES. 12g proper fpirit, never grow into pride, never fwell into infolence ? Does the habit of in¬ correct narrative, or loofe talking, or allowed hyperbole, never lead to falfehood, never fettle in deceit ? Before we pofitively deter¬ mine that fmall faults are innocent, we muff undertake to prove that they fhall never out¬ grow their primitive dimenlions; we muff afcertain that the infant fhall never become a giant. Procra/iination is reckoned among the mod venial of our faults, and fits fo lightly on our minds, that we fcarcely apologize for it. But who can allure us that had not the affiftance we had refolved to give to one friend under diftrefs, or the advice to another under temptation, to-day been delayed, and from mere doth and indolence been put off till to-morrow, it might not have preferved the fortunes of the one, or faved the foul of the other ? i It is not enough that we perform duties, we muff perform them at the right time. We muff do the duty of every day in its own feafon. 230 ON THE COMPARATIVELY * feafon. Every day has its own imperious duties; we muft not depend upon to-day for fulfilling thofe which we negle&ed yefterday, for to-day might not have been granted us. To-morrow will be equally peremptory in its demands y and the fucceeding day, if we live to fee it, will be ready with its proper claims. Indecijion , though it is not fo often caufed by refle&ion as by the want of it, yet may be as mifchievous, for if we fpend too much time in balancing probabilities, the period for action is loft. While we are ruminating on difficulties which may never occur, recon¬ ciling differences which perhaps do not exift, and poiftng in oppofite fcales things of nearly the fame weight, the opportunity is loft of producing that good, which a firm and manly decifion would have effected. Idlenefs , though itfelf “ the moil unper¬ forming of all the vices,” is however the pafs through which they all enter, the ftage on which they all a£t. Though fupremely paffive itfelf, it lends a willing hand to all evil. SMALL FAULTS AND VIRTUES. 23 1 evil* practical as well as fpeculative. It is the abettor of every fin whoever commits it, the receiver of all booty whoever is the thief. If it does nothing itfelf, it connives at all the mifchief that is done by others. Vanity is exceedingly mifplaced when ranked, as fhe commonly is, in the catalogue of fmall faults. It is under her character of harmleffnefs that ihe does all her mifchief. She is indeed often found in the fociety of great virtues. She does not follow in the train, but mixes herfelf with the company, and by mixing mars it. The ufe our fpi- ritual enemy makes of her is a mailer ilroke. When he cannot prevent us from doing right actions, he can accompliih his purpofe almoft as well “ by making us vain of them. 5 * When he cannot deprive the public of our benevolence, he can defeat the effect to our- felves by poifoning the principle. When he cannot rob others of the good effedl of the deed, he can gain his point by robbing the doer of his reward. - - PeeviJJonefs 2 $2 ON THE COMPARATIVELY Teevijhnefs is another of the minor mife- ries. Human life though fufficiently un¬ happy, cannot contrive to furnilh misfortunes fo often as the paflionate and the peevifh can fupply impatience. To commit our reafon and temper to the mercy of every acquaint¬ ance, and of every fervant, is not making the wifeft ufe of them. If we recoiled: that violence and peevilhnefs are the common re- fource of thofe whofe knowledge is fmall, and whofe arguments are weak, our very pride might lead us tofubdue our pallion, if we had not a better principle to refort to. Anger is the common refuge of infignifi- cance. People who feel their character to be flight, hope to give it weight by inflation. But the blown bladder at its fulled diftenfion is ftill empty. Sluggifh characters, above all, have no right to be paflionate. They fliould be contented with their own congenial faults. Dullnefs however has its impetuofities and its fluctuations as well as genius. It is on the coaft of heavy Boeotia that the Euripus exhibits SMALL FAULTS AND VIRTUES. *35 exhibits its unparalleled reflleffnefs and agitation. Trifling is ranked among the venial faults. But if time be one grand talent given us in order to our fecuring eternal life; if we trifle away that time fo as to lofe that eternal life, on which by not trifling we might have laid hold, then will it anfwer the end of fin. A life devoted to trifles not only takes away tl5* inclination, but the capacity for higher purfuits. The truths of Chriftianity have fcarcely more influence on a frivolous than on a profligate character. If the mind be fo abforbed, not merely with what is vicious, but with what is ufelefs, as to be thoroughly difinclined to the activities of a life of piety, it matters little what the caufe is which fo difinclines it. If thefe habits cannot be ac- cufed of great moral evil, yet it argues a low {late of mind, that a being who has an eternity at (lake can abandon itfelf to trivial purfuits. If the great concern of life cannot be fecured without habitual watchfulnefs, how is it to be fecured by habitual careleffnefs ? It will w ' afford 234 0N THE comparatively afford little comfort to the trifler, when at the laft reckoning he gives in his long ne¬ gative catalogue, that the more oftenfible offender was worfe employed. The trifler will not be weighed in the fcale with the profligate, but in $he balance of the fandtuary. Some men make for themfelves a fort of code of the leffer morals, of which they fettle both the laws and the chronology. They fix “ the climactericks of the mind* f* determine at what period fuch a vice may be adopted without difcredit, at what age one bad habit may give way to another more in eharadter, Having fettled it as a matter of courfe, that to a certain age certain faults are natural, they proceed to adt as if they thought them neceffary. But let us not pradtife on ourfelves the grofs impofition to believe that any failing, much lefs any vice, is neceffarily appended to any date or any age, or that it is irrefiftible at any. We may accuftom our* * Dr. Johnfon. felves SMALL FAULTS AND VIRTUES. 235 felves to talk of vanity and extravagance as belonging to the young, and avarice and peevilhnefs to the old ,. till the next ftep will be that we ffiall think ourfelves juftified in adopting them. Whoever is eager to find excufes for vice and folly, will feel his own backwardnefs to praCtife them much di¬ mini fhed. Cejl le premier pas qui coute . It is only to make out an imaginary neceffity, and then we eafily fall into the neceffity we have imagined. Providence has eftabliffied no fuch affociation. There is, it is true, more danger of certain faults under certain cir* cumftances; and fome temptations are ftronger at fome periods, but it is a proof that they are not irrefiftible becaufe all do not fall into them. The evil is in ourfelves who mitigate the difcredit by the fuppofed neceffity. The prediction, like the dream •of the Aftrologer, creates the event inftead of foretelling it. But there is no fuppofition can be made of a bad cafe which will juflify the making-it our. own: Nor will general pofitions 236 ON THE COMPARATIVELY pofitions ever ferve for individual apologies. — Who has not known perfons who, though they retain the found health and vigour of aCtive life, fink prematurely into doth and inactivity, folely on the ground that thefe difpofitions are fancied to be unavoidably incident to advancing years. They demand the indulgence before they feel the infirmity. Indolence thus forges a difmiffion from duty before the difcharge is iffued out by Providence. No. — Let us endeavour to meet the evils of the feveral conditions and periods of life with fubmilfion, but it is an offence to their divine difpenfer to foreftal them. But we have hill a faving claufe for our* felves whether the evil be of a greater or lelfer magnitude. If the fault be great we lament the inability to refill it, if fmall, we deny the importance of fo doing; we plead that we cannot withfland a great tempta¬ tion, and that a fmall one is not worth with- ftanding. But if the temptation or the fault be great, we fhould refill it on account of that SMALL FAULTS AND VIRTUES. 237 that very magnitude; if fmall, the giving it up can coft but little ; and the confcientious habit of conquering the lefs will confer con- fiderable ftrength towards fubduing the greater. . 1 There is again, a fort of fplendid charac- ter, which winding itfelf up occafionally to certain fhining actions, thinks itfelf fully juftified in breaking loofe from the fhackles of reftraint in fmaller things; it makes no fcruple to indemnify itfelf for thefe popular deeds by indulgences which though allowed, are far from innocent. It thus fecures to itfelf praife and popularity by what is fure to gain it, and immunity from cenfure in indulging the favourite fault, practically ex¬ claiming, “ is it not a little one ?” Vanity is at the bottom of almoft all, may we not fay, of all our fms ? We think more of fignalizing than of faving ourfelves. We overlook the hourly occafions which occur of ferving, of obliging, of comforting thofe around us, while we fometimes, not unwil¬ lingly perform an aCt of notorious generofity. The habit however in the former cafe better 4 indicates 538 ON THE COMPARATIVELY indicates the difpofition and bent of the mind, than the folitary a£t of fplendor. The apoflle does not fay whatfoever great things ye do, but “ whatfoever things ye do, do all to the glory of God.” Actions are lefs weighed by their bulk than their motive. Virtues are lefs meafured by their fplendour than their principle. The racer proceeds in his courfe more effectually by a fteady unllackened pace, than by flarts of violent but unequal exertion. That great abflraCt of moral law, of which we have elfewhere fpoken*, that Tule of the higheft court of appeal, fet up in his own bofom, to which every man can always refort, “ all things that ye would that men fhould do unto you do ye alfo unto them” — This law if faithfully obeyed, operating as an infallible remedy for all the diforders of felf-love, would by throwing its partiality into the right fcale, eflablifh the exercife of all the fmaller virtues. Its flriCt obfervance would not only put a flop to all injuflice * Chap. IX. SM&LL FAULTS ANT) VIRTUES. 239 injuftice but to all unkiiidftefs ; not only to oppreffive ads, but to unfeeling language* Even haughty looks and fupercilious gef- tures would be banifhed from the face of fociety, did we afk ourfelves how we fhould like to receive what we are not afhamed to give. Till we thus morally tranfmute place, perfon, and circumflance with thofe of our brother, we {hall never treat him with the tendernefs this gracious law enjoins. • Small virtues and fmall offences are only fo by comparifon. To treat a fellow crea¬ ture with harfh language, is not indeed a crime like robbing him of his eflate or de¬ stroying his reputation. They are however all the offspring of the fame family. — They are the fame in quality though not in degree. All flow, though in ftreams of different mag¬ nitude, from the fame fountain; all are indications of a departure from that principle •which is included in the law of love. The “confequences they involve are not lefs certain, though they are lefs important. * The 2-4® THE comparatively The reafon why what are called religious people often differ fo little from others in fmall trials is, that inltead of bringing reli¬ gion to their aid in their lelfer vexations, they either leave the diflurbance to prey upon their minds, or apply to falfe reliefs for its removal. Thofe who are rendered > j * < ' f r * unhappy by frivolous troubles, feek comfort in frivolous enjoyments. But we fhould apply the fame remedy to ordinary trials as to great ones; for as fmall difquietudes fpring from the fame caufe as great trials, namely, the uncertain and imperfect con¬ dition of human life, fo they require the fame remedy. Meeting common cares with a right fpirit would impart a fmoothnefs to the temper, a fpirit of cheerfulnefs to the heart, which would mightily break the force of heavier trials. You apply to the power of religion in great evils. — Why does it not occur to you to apply to it in the lefs ? Is it that you think the inftrument greater than the occafion demands ?* SMALl faults and virtues. 241 % A I demands ? It is not too great if the leffer one will not produce the effedt ; or if it produce it in the wrong way, for there is fuch a thing as putting an evil out of fight without curing it. You would apply to re¬ ligion on the lofs of your child — apply to it on the lofs of your temper. Throw in this wholefome tree to fweeten the bitter waters. As no calamity is too great for the power of Chriflianity to mitigate, fo none is too fmall to experience its beneficial refults. Our behaviour under the ordinary accidents of life forms a characterise diftindtion be¬ tween different claffes of Chriflians. The leafl advanced refort to Religion on great occafions, the deeper proficient reforts to it on all. What makes it appear of fo little comparative value is, that the medicine pre¬ pared by the great Phyfician is thrown by inftead of being taken. The patient thinks not of it but in extreme cafes. A remedy however potent, not applied, can produce no effect. Rut he who has adopted one fixed principle for the government of his M life. 242 ON THE COMPARATIVELY life, will try to keep it in perpetual exercife. An acquaintance with the nature of human evils and of their remedy, would check that fpirit of complaint which fo much abounds, and which often makes fo little difference between people profeffmg religion and thole who profefs it not. • If the duties in queflion are not great, they become important by the conflant demand that is made for them. They have been called ct the fmall coin of human life,” and on their perpetual and unobftrudled circula¬ tion depends much of the comfort as well as convenience of its tranfa&ions. They make up in frequency what they want in magnitude. How few of us are called to Tarry the doctrines of Chriflianity into dif- .tant lands ! but which of us is not called £very day to adorn thofe doctrines, by gentle- nefs in our own carriage, by kindnefs and forbearance to all about us ? In performing the unoftenfible duties, there is no incentive from vanity. No love of fame infpires that virtue of which fame ' will SMALL FAULTS AND VIRTUES. 243 will never hear. There can he but one motive, and that the pureft, for the exercife of virtues, the report of which will never reach beyond the little circle whofe happi- nefs they promote. They do not fill the world with our renown, but they fill our own family with comfort, and if they have the love of God for their principle, they will have his favour for their reward. In this enumeration of faults, we include not fins of infirmity, inadvertency, and fur- prize, to which even the molt fincere Chrif- tians are but too liable. What are here adverted to are allowed, habitual, and unre- fifted faults: habitual becaufe unrefifted, and allowed from the notion tnat they are too inconfiderable to call for refiftance. Faults into which we are betrayed through furprize and inadvertency, though that is no realon for committing them, may not be without their ufes : they renew the falu- tary convi&ion of our finful nature, make us little in our own eyes, increafe our fenfe of dependance, promote watchful- M 2 nefs. 244 ON the comparatively nefs, deepen humility, and quicken repen¬ tance. We mull however be careful not to en¬ tangle the confcience or embarrafs the fpirit by groundlefs apprehenfions. We have a merciful father not a hard mailer to deal with. We ifiull not harafs our minds with a fufpicious dread as if by a needlefs rigour the Almighty were laying fnares to entrap us, nor be terrified with imaginary fears as if he were on the watch to punilh every cafual error.—To be immutable and im¬ peccable belongs not to humanity, He who made us bell knows of what we are made. — Our compaffionate High Priell will bear with much infirmity, wall pardon much in¬ voluntary weaknefs. But knowing, as every man mull know who looks into his own heart, the difficul¬ ties he has from the intervention of his evil tempers, in ferving God faithfully, and Hill however earnellly defirous of ferving him, is it not to be lamented that he is not more felicitous to remove his hindrances by trying to SMALL FAULTS AND VIRTUES. 245 to avoid thofe inferior fins, and refilling thofe leffer temptations, and pra&ifmg thofe fmaller virtues, the negleft of which obftru&s his way, and keeps him. back in the perfor¬ mance of higher duties. Initead of little renunciations being grievous, and petty felf- denials a hardlhip, they in reality foften grievances, diminifh har dihip. They are the private drill which trains for public fervice. If, as we have repeatedly obferved, the principle is the tell of the action, we are hourly furnifhed with occafions of fhewing our piety by the fpirit in which the quiet un- obferved actions of life are performed. The facrifices may be too little to be obferved except by him to whom they are offered; But fmall folicitudes, and demonftrations of attachment, fcarcely perceptible to any eye but his for whom they are made, bear the true chara£ter of love to God, as they are the infallible marks of affection to our fellow By creatures. 246 ON THE COMPARATIVELY By enjoining fmall duties, the fpirit of which is every where implied in the Gofpel, God, as it were, feems contriving to render the great ones eafy to us. He makes the light yoke of Chrift ftill lighter, not by abridging duty, but by increafing its facility through its familiarity. Thefe little habits at once indicate the fentiment of the foul and improve it. It is an awful confideration, and one which every Chriftian fhould bring home to his own bofom, whether fmall faults wilfully perfifted in, may not in time not only dim the light of confcience, but extinguifh the fpirit of grace: Whether the power of refin¬ ance againfl great fins may not be finally withdrawn as a juft punifhment for having neglected to exert it againfl fmall ones. Let us endeavour to maintain in our minds the awful impreftion that perhaps among the firft objects which may meet our eyes when we open them on the eternal world, may be that tremendous book, in which, together \ with SMALL FAULTS AND VIRTUES. 247 with our great and aCtual fins, may be re¬ corded in no lefs prominent characters, the ample page of omiflions, of negleCted op¬ portunities, and even of fruitlefs good inten¬ tions, of which indolence, indecifion, thoughtlelfnefs, vanity, trifling and procras¬ tination concurred to fruftrate the execu¬ tion. END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. Strahan and Preftofl, Printers-Street, London, VOL. I. Page 3. laft Line, for “ deduced ” read educed. 55. Line 20. for “ lafting ” read durable. 120. laft Line and laft but one, omit “ that ” in both. $21. Line 1. after “ fpirit ” put a full flop. 139. Line 2 inftead of “ without ” read we cannot forbear. 142. laft Line but one, for “ on ” read in. PRACTICAL PIETY; OR, THE INFLUENCE OF THE RELIGION OF THE HEART ON THE CONDUCT OF THE LIFE. By HANNAH MORE. The fear of God begins with the Heart, and purifies and rectifies it; and from the Heart, thus rectified, grows a conformity in the Life, the Words, and the A&ions. Sir Matthew Hale's Contemplations . IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. L 0 ND 0 N: PRINTED FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, IN THE STRAND. 1811. i t) i T k . .. V ) i .) Q. ; ; a a! L ■ • - ) ( i. Strahan and Prefton, Printers-Street, London I CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME. CHAP. XII. Self-Examination. - - Page i CHAP. XIII. Self-Love. ** - - -> **33 / - CHAP. XIV. The ConduSl of Chriflians in their Intercourfe with the Irreligious . - - - 60 CHAP. XV. On the Propriety of introducing Religion into general Converfation . - - 91 CHAP. XVI. Chriflian JVatchfidnefs . » • - 106 IV CONTENTS. CHAP. XVII. True and falfe ZeaL - Page 135 CHAP. XVIII. i Infenfibility to Eternal Things . - 160 CHAP. XIX. Happy Deaths . - - - - 195 CHAP. XX. The Sufferings of Good Men, - - 228 CHAP. XXI. The Temper and Conduct of Chrijlians in Sicknefs and in Death. - - 264 CHAP. XII. Self-Examination, A f > C . ' ' \ \ ' IN this age of general enquiry, every kind of ignorance is efleemed dilhonorable. In almoft every fort of knowlege there is a competition for fuperiority. Intellectual at¬ tainments are never to be undervalued. Learning is the bell human thing. All knowlege is excellent as far as it goes, and as long as it lads. But how ihort is the period before u tongues fhall ceafe and knowlege fhall vanifh away!” Shall we then efteem it dilhonorable to be ignorant in any thing which relates to life and literature, to tafle and fcience, and not feel afhamed to live in ignorance of our own hearts ? VOL. ii. b To 2 SELF-EXAMINATION*. To have a flourifhingeftate and a mind in dis¬ order ; to keep exa£t accounts with a Steward and no reckoning with our Maker ; to have an accurate knowlege of lofs or gain in our bufinefs, and to remain utterly ignorant whether our fpiritual concerns are improving or declining ; to be cautious in afcertaining at the end of every year how much we have increafed or diminifhed our fortune, and to be carelefs whether we have incurred profit or lofs in faith and holinefs, is a wretched miscalculation of the comparative value of things. To bellow our attention on objects in an inverfe proportion to their importance, is furely no proof that our learning has im¬ proved our judgment. That deep thinker and acute reafoner. Dr. Barrow, has remarked that “ it is a peculiar excellency of human nature, and which diftinguifhes man from the inferior creatures more than bare reafon itfelf, that he can refledl upon all that is done within him, can difcern the tendencies of his foul, and is acquainted with his own purpofes.” This SELF-EXAMTNATIOX. 3 This diflinguifhing faculty of felf-infpec- tion would not have been conferred on man, if it had not been intended that it fhould be in habitual operation. It is furely, as we before obferved, as much a common law of prudence to look well to our fpiritual as to our worldly poffeffions. We have appetites to control, imaginations to retrain, tem¬ pers to regulate, pahions to fubdue, and how can this internal work be effe&ed, how can our thoughts be kept within due bounds, how can a proper bias be given to the affec¬ tions, how can “ the little (late of man” V be preferved from continual infurre&ion, how can this retraining power be maintained, if this capacity of difcerning, if this faculty of infpe&ing be not kept in regular exercife ? Without conflant difcipline, imagination will become an outlaw, confcience an at¬ tainted rebel. This inward eye, this power of introver- fion, is given us for a continual watch upon the foul. On an unremitted vigilance over its interior motions, thofe fruitful feeds of B2 a£tion y 4 SELF-EXAMINATION. aCtion, thofe prolific principles of vice and virtue, will depend both the formation and the growth of our moral and religious cha¬ racter. A fuperficial glance is not enough for a thing fo deep, an unfteady view will not fuffice for a thing fo wavering, nor a cafual look for a thing fo deceitful as the human heart. A partial infpeCtion on any one fide, will not be enough for an objeCt which mull be obferved under a variety of afpeCts, beeaufe it is always fhifting its po- fition, always changing its appearances. We fhould examine not only our conduct but our opinions; not only our faults but our prejudices, not only our propenfities but our judgments. Our aCtions themfelves will be obvious enough ; it is our intentions which require the fcrutiny. Thefe we fhould follow up to their remoteft fprings, fcruti- nize to their deepeft recedes, trace through their moft perplexing windings. And left we fhould, in our purfuit, wander in un¬ certainty and blindnefs, let us make ufe of that guiding clue which the Almighty has furnifhed by his word, and by his fpirit, for conducing SELF-EXAMINATION. 5 conducing us through the intricacies of this labyrinth. 66 What I know not teach Thou me” fhould be our conflant petition in all our refearches. Did we turn our thoughts inward, it would abate much of the felf-complacency with which we fwallow the flattery of others. Flattery hurts not him who flatters not him- felf. If we examined our motives keenly, we fhould frequently blufh at the praifes our a&ions receive. Let us then confcientiouHv j enquire not only what we do, but whence and why we do it, from what motive and to what end. Self-infpe&ion is the only means to pre- ferve us from felf-conceit. We could not furely fo very extravagantly value a being whom we ourfelves fhould not only fee, but feel to be fo full of faults. Self-acquaint¬ ance will give us a far more deep and inti¬ mate knowlege of our own errors than we can poflibly have, with all the inquifitivenefs of an idle curiofity, of the errors of others. We are eager enough to blame them without W b 7 know’mj o o 6 SELF-EXAMINATION. knowing their motives. We are no left eager to vindicate ourfelves, though we can¬ not be entirely ignorant of our own. Thus two virtues will be acquired by the fame a£t, humility and candor ; an impartial review of our own infirmities, being the likelieft way to make us tender and compaflionate to thofe of others. Nor fhall we be liable fo to over-rate our own judgment when we perceive that it often forms fuch falfe eftimates, is fo captivated with trifles, fo elated with petty fuccefles, fo dejeCted with little difappointments. When we hear others commend our charity which we know is fo cold ; when others extol our piety which we feel to be fo dead; when they applaud the energies of our faith, which we muft know to be fo faint and feeble; we cannot poflibly be fo intoxicated with the ap« plaufes which never would have been given had the applauder known us as we know, or ought to know ourfelves. If we contradict him, it may be only to draw on ourfelves the imputation of a frefh virtue, humility, which SELF-EXAMINATION. . 7 which perhaps we as little deferve to have afcribed to us as that which we have been renouncing. If we kept a fharp look out, we fhould not be proud of praifes which cannot apply to us, but fhould rather grieve at the involuntary fraud of impofmg on others, by tacitly accepting a charader to which we have fo little real pretenfion. To be delighted at finding that people think fo much better of us than we are confcious of deferving, is in effed to rejoice in the fuccefs of our own deceit. We fhall alfo become more patient, more forbearing and forgiving, fhall better endure the harfh judgment of others refpeding us,, when we perceive that their opinion of us nearly coincides with our own real though unacknowleged fentiments. There is much lefs injury incurred by others thinking too ill of us, than in our thinking too well of ourfelves. It is evident then, that to live at random, is not the life of a rational, much lefs of an immortal, leaf! of all of an accountable being. B 4 To 8 SELF-EXAMINATION. To pray occafionally, without a deliberate courfe of prayer; to be generous without proportioning our means to our expenditure; to be liberal without a plan, and charitable without a principle; to let the mind float on the current of public opinion, lie at the mercy of events for the probable occurrence of which we have made no provifion; to be every hour liable to death without any ha¬ bitual preparation for it; to carry within us a principle which we believe will exift through all the countlefs ages of eternity, and yet to make little enquiry whether that eternity is likely to be happy or miferable — all this is an inconfideratenefs which, if adopted in the ordinary concerns of life, would bid fair to ruin a man’s reputation for common fenfe; yet of this infatuation he who lives without felf-examination is abfo- lutely guilty. Nothing more plainly fhews us what weak vacillating creatures we are, than the difficulty we find in fixing ourfelves down to the very felf-fcrutiny we had deliberately refolved on. . ~ Like SELF-EXAMINATION. 9 Like the worthlefs Roman Emperor we retire to our clofet under the appearance of ferious occupation, but might now and then be fur- prized, if not in catching flies, yet in pur- fuits nearly as contemptible. Some trifle which we fhould be alhamed to dwell upon at any time, intrudes itfelf on the moments dedicated to ferious thought; recollection is interrupted; the whole chain of reflection broken, fo that the fcattered links cannot again be united. And fo inconfiftent are we that we are fometimes not forry to have a plaufible pretence for interrupting the very employment in which We had juft before made it a duty to engage. For want of this home acquaintance, we remain in utter ig¬ norance of our inability to meet even the ordinary trials of life with cheerfulnefs; indeed by this negleCt we confirm that in¬ ability. Nurfed in the lap of luxury, we have perhaps an indefinite notion that we have but a loofe hold on the things of this world, and of the world itfelf. — But let fome accident take away, not the world, but fome trifle B 5 ; - ' on 10 SELF-EXAMINATION. on which we thought we fet no value while we poffeffed it, and we find to our adonidi- ment that we hold, not the world only, but even this trivial poffefiion with a pretty tight grafp. Such dete&ions of our felf-ig- norance, if they do not ferve to wean, ought at lead to humble us. There is a fpurious fort of felf-examination which does not ferve to enlighten but to blind. A perfon who has left off fome noto¬ rious vice, who has foftened fome (hades of a glaringfin, or fubftituted fome outwardforms in the place of open irreligion, looks on his change of character with pleafure. He com¬ pares himfelf with what he was, and views the alteration with felf-complacency. He de> ceives himfelf by taking his ftandard from his former conduct, or from the character of (till worfe men, inftead of taking it from the unerring rule of fcripture. He looks rather at the difcredit than the finfulnefs of his former life, and being more afhamed of what is difreputable than grieved at what is vicious, he is, in this date of (hallow refor¬ mation, more in danger in proportion as he 4* is SELI-EXAMINATION. II is more in credit. He is not aware that it is not having a fault or two lefs will carry him to heaven, while his heart is ftill glued to the world and eftranged from God. If we ever look into our hearts at all, we are naturally moft inclined to it when we think we have been a&ing right. Here in- fpe£tion gratifies felf-love. We have no great difficulty in directing our attention to an objedt when that objedl prefents us with pleafing images. But it is a painful effort to compel the mind to turn in on itfelf, when the view only prefents fubje&s for regret and remorfe. This painful duty however mull: be peformed, and will be more falutary in proportion as it is lefs plea- fant. —Let us eflablifh it into a habit to ru¬ minate on our faults. With the recolle&ion of our virtues we need not feed our vanity. They will, if that vanity does not obliterate them, be recorded elfewhere. We are alfo moft difpofed to look at thofe parts of our character which will beft bear it, and which confequently leaft need it: at b 6 thofe 12 SELF-EXAMINATIOK. thofe parts which afford mofl felf-gratulation. If a covetous man, for inflance, examines himfelf, inflead of turning his attention to the peccant part, he applies the probe where he knows it will not go very deep ; he turns from his avarice to that fobriety of which his very avarice is perhaps the fource. Another, who is the Have of paffion, fondly refts upon fome a£t ef generofity, which he confiders as a fair commutation for fome favorite vice, that would coft him more to renounce than he is willing to part with. We are all too much difpofed to dwell on that fmiling fide of the profpeft which pleafes and deceives us, and to fhut our eyes upon that part which we do not chufe to fee, becaufe we are refolved not to quit. Self- love always holds a fcreen between the fu- perficial felf-examiner and his faults. The nominal Chriftian wraps himfelf up in forms which he makes himfelf believe are religion. He exults in what he does, overlooks what he ought to do, nor ever fufpefts that what is done at all can be done amifs. As SELF-EXAMINATION. 13 As we are fo indolent that we feldom 4 $ examine a truth on more than one fide, fo we generally take care that it fhall be that fide which fhall confirm fome old prejudices. While we will not take pains to correct thofe prejudices and to re&ify our judgment, left it fhould oblige us todifcard a favorite opinion, we are yet as eager to judge, and as forward to decide, as if we were fully poffeffed of the grounds on which a found judgment may be made, and a juft decifion formed. We fhould watch ourfelves whether we obferve a fimple rule of truth and juftice, as well in our converfation, as in our ordinary tranfa&ions; whether we are exa£t in our meafures of commendation and cenfure; whether we do not beftow extravagant praife where fimple approbation alone is due; whether we do not with-hold commendation, where, if given, it would fupport modefty and encourage merit; whether what deferves only a flight cenfure as imprudent, we do not reprobate as immoral; whether we do not fometimes affeft to over-rate ordinary merit. 14 SELF-EXAMINATION. merit, in the hope of fecuring to ourfelves the reputation of candor, that we may on other occafions, with lefs fufpicion, depre¬ ciate eftablifhed excellence. We extol the firft becaufe we fancy that it can come into no competition with us, and we derogate from the laft becaufe it obvioufly eclipfes us. Let us afk ourfelves if we are confcien- tioufly upright in our eftimation of benefits ; whether when we have a favour to alk we do not depreciate its value, when we have one to grant we do not aggravate it. It is only by fcrutinizing the heart that we can know it. It is only by knowing the heart that we can reform the life. Any carelefs obferver indeed, when his watch goes wrong, may fee that it does fo by caft- ing an eye on the dial plate; but it is only the artift who takes it to pieces and exa¬ mines every fpring and every wheel fepa- rately, and who, by afcertaining the precife caufes of the irregularity, can fet the ma¬ chine right, and reftore the obftru&ed movements. The SELF-EXAMINATION. 15 The illufions of intelleflual vifion would be materially cor refled, by a clofe habit of cultivating an acquaintance with our hearts. We fill much too large a fpace in our own imaginations; we fancy we take up more room in the world than Providence afligns to an individual who has to divide his allot¬ ment with fo many millions, who are all of equal importance in their own eyes; and who, like us, are elbowing others to make room for themfelves. Juft as in the natural world, where every particle of matter would ftretch itfelf, and move out of its place, if it were not kept in order by furrounding par¬ ticles : The prelfure of other parts reduces this to remain in a confinement from which it would efcape, if it were not thus preffed and afled upon on all fides. The confcientious practice we have been recommending, would greatly aflift in reducing us to our proper di- menfions, and in limiting us to our proper place. We fhould be aftonifhed if we could fee our real diminutivenefs, and the fpeck we aflually occupy. When fhall we learn from our 1 6 SELF-EXAMINATION. our own feelings of how much confequence every man is to himfelf ? Nor muft the examination be occafional but regular. Let us not run into long ar¬ rears, but fettle our accounts frequently. Little articles will run up to a large amount, if they are not cleared off. Even our inno¬ cent days, as we may chufe to call them, will not have palfed without furnifhing their contingent. Our deadnefs in devotion — our eagernefs for human applaufe — our care to conceal our faults rather than to cor- red them — our negligent performance of fome relative duty — our imprudence in converfation, efpecially at table — our incon- fideration — our driving to the very edge of permitted indulgences — let us keep thefe — let us keep all our numerous items in fmall fums. Let us examine them while the particulars are frefh in our memory, other- wife, however we may flatter ourfelves that lefler evils will be fwallowed up by the greater, we may find when we come to fettle the grand account, that they will not be the lefs SELF-EXAMINATION. I J lefs remembered for not having been re¬ corded. And let it be one fubjeC of our frequent inquiry, whether fmce we laft fcrutinized our hearts, our fecular affairs, or our eternal concerns have had the predominance there. We do not mean which of them has occu¬ pied moft of our time, the larger portion of which muft, neceffarily, to the generality, be abforbed in the cares of the prefent life 5 but on which our affeftions have been moft bent; and efpecially how we have conduc¬ ed ourfelves when there has arifen a com¬ petition between the* interefts of both. That general burft of fins which fo fre¬ quently rufhes in on the confidences of the dying, would be much moderated by pre¬ vious habitual felf-examination. It will not do to repent in the lump. The forrow muft be as circumflantial as the fin. Indefinite # * repentance is no repentance. And it is one grand ufe of felf-enquiry, to remind us that all unforfaken fms are unrepented fins. 18 SELF-EXAMINATION. To a Chriftian there is this fubflantial comfort attending a minute felf-infpe£tion, that when he finds fewer fins to be noted, and more vi&ories over temptation ob¬ tained, he has a folid evidence of his advancement, which well repays his trouble. The faithful fearcher into his own heart, that cc chamber of Imagery,” feels himfelf in the fituation of the Prophet*, who being conduced in vifion from one idol to another, the fpirit at fight of each, repeatedly ex¬ claims, “ here is another abomination!” The prophet being commanded to dig deeper, the further he penetrated the more evils he found, while the fpirit continued to cry out, “ I will {hew thee yet more abomi¬ nations.” Self-examination by detecting felf-love, felf-denial by weakening its power, felf-go- vernment by reducing its defpotifm, turns the temper of the foul from its natural bias, * Ezekiel. controls SELF-EXAMINATION. 3 9 controls the diforderly appetite, and, under the influence of divine grace, in a good mea- fure reflores to the man that dominion over himfelf, which God at firfl gave him over the inferior creatures. Deflres, paflions, and appetites are brought to move fomewhat more in their appointed order, fubje&s not tyrants. What the Stoics vainly pretended to, Chriflianity effects. It reflores man to a dominion over his own will, and in a good meafure enthrones him in that empire which he had forfeited by fin. He now begins to furvey his interior, the awful world within ; not indeed with felf- complacency, but with the control of a So¬ vereign, he {till finds too much rebellion to indulge fecurity, he therefore continues his infpe&ion with vigilance, but without pertur¬ bation. He continues to experience a re¬ mainder of infubordination and diforder, but this rather folicits to a ftri&er government than drives him to relax his difcipline. This felf-infpe&ion fomewhat refembJes the correction of a literary performance. After 20 SELF-EXAMINATION. After many and careful revifals, though fome grofier faults may be done away; though the errors are neither quite fo nume¬ rous, nor fo glaring as at fird, yet the critic perpetually perceives faults which he had not perceived before; negligences appear which he had overlooked, and even defedts dart i up which had palfed on him for beauties. He finds much to amend, and even to ex¬ punge, in what he had before admired. When by rigorous cadigation the mod ac- knowleged faults are corrected, his critical acumen, improved by exercife, and a more habitual acquaintance with his fubject, ftill detects and will for ever detedt, new imper¬ fections. But he neither throws afide his work, nor remits his criticifm, which if it do not make the work perfedt, will at lead make the author humble. Confcious that if it is not quite fo bad as it was, it is ftill at an immeafurable didance from the required excellence. Is it not adonifhing that we fliould go on repeating periodically, “ Try me, O God,” while SELF-EXAMINATION. 21 while we are yet negle&ing to try ourfelves ? Is there not fomething more like defiance than devotion to invite the infpe£lion of Om- nifcience to that heart which we ourfelves negleft to infpedt ? How can a Chriftian folemnly cry out to the Almighty, “ feek the ground of my heart, prove me and exa¬ mine my thoughts, and fee if there be any way of wickednefs in me,” while he himfelf negle&s to u examine his heart,” is afraid of “ proving his thoughts,” and dreads to en¬ quire if there “ be any way of wickednefs” in himfelf, knowing that the inquiry ought to lead to the expulfion. In our felf-inquifition let us fortify our virtue by a rigorous exadtnefs in calling things by their proper names. Self-love is particularly ingenious in inventing difguifes of this kind. Let us lay them open, ftrip them bare, face them, and give them as little quarter as if they were the faults of another. Let us not call wounded pride delicacy. Self-love is made up of foft and fickly fenfi- bilities. Not that fenfibility which melts at the SELF-EXAMINATION* 22 the forrows of others, but that which cannot endure the leaf! fuffering itfelf. It is alive in every pore where felf is concerned. A touch is a wound. It is carelefs in inflicting pain, but exquifitely awake in feeling it. It defends itfelf before it is attacked, revenges affronts before they are offered, and refents as an infult the very fufpicion of an im¬ perfection. In order then to unmafk our hearts, let us not be contented to examine our vices, let us examine our virtues alfo, “ thofe fmaller faults.” Let us fcrutinize to the bottom thofe qualities and aCtions which have more particularly obtained public efti- mation. Let us enquire if they were genuine in the principle, Ample in the intention, honefl in the profecution. Let us afk our- felves if in fome admired inflances our gene- rofity had no tinClure of vanity, our charity no taint of oflentation ? Whether, when we did fuch a right aCtion which brought us credit, we fhould have perfifted in doing it, had we forefeen that it would incur cenfure ? Do SELF-EXAMINATION. 2 3 Do we never deceive ourfelves by miltaking a conftitutional indifference of temper for Chriftian moderation ? Do we never con- flrue our love of eafe into deadnefs to the world ? Our animal activity into Chriftian zeal ? Do we never miftake our obftinacy for firmnefs, our pride for fortitude, our felfilhnefs for feeling, our love of contro- verfy for the love of God, our indolence of temper for fuperiority to human applaufe ? When we have ftripped our good qualities bare; when we have made all due deduc¬ tions for natural temper, eafinefs of difpoft- tion, felf-intereft, delire of admiration, of every extrinfic appendage, every illegitimate motive, let us fairly call up the account, and we fhall be mortified to fee how little there will remain. Pride may impofe itfelf upon us even in the Ihape of repentance. The humble Chriftian is grieved at his faults, the proud man is angry at them. He is indig¬ nant when he difcovers he has done wrong, not fo much becaufe his fin offends God, as becaufe it has let him fee that he is not quite fo 24 SELF-EXAMINATION. fo good as he had tried to make himfelf believe. It is more necefiary to excite us to the humbling of our pride than to the perform¬ ance of certain good actions; the former is more difficult as it is lefs pleafant. That very pride will of itfelf flimulate to the per¬ formance of many things that are laudable. Thefe performances will reproduce pride as they were produced by it; whereas humility has no outward ftimulus. Divine grace alone produces it. It is fo far from being a&uated by the love of fame, that it is not humility, till it has laid the defire of fame in the dull. If an a&ual virtue confifts, as we have frequently had occafion to obferve, in the dominion over the contrary vice, humility is the conquefl over pride, charity over felfiffi- nefs, not only a vi&ory over the natural temper, but a fubftitution of the oppofite quality. This proves that all virtue is founded in felf-denial, felf-denial in felf- knowlege, and felf-knowlege in felf-exami- nation. SELF-EXAMINATION. 2 $ nation. Pride fo infinuates itfelf in all we do, and fay, and think, that our apparent humility has not feldom its origin in pride. That very impatience which we feel at the perception of our faults is produced by the aflonifhment at finding that we are not per¬ fect. This fenfe of our fins fhould make us humble but not defperate. It fhould teach us to diflrufl every thing in ourfelves, and to hope for every thing from God. The more we lay open the wounds which fin has made, the more earneftly fhall we feek the remedy which Chriftianity has provided. But inftead of feeking for felf-knowlege, we are glancing about us for grounds of felf-exaltation. We almofl referable the Pharifee who with fo much felf-complacency delivered in the catalogue of his own virtues and other men’s fins, and, like the Tartars, who think they poffefs the qualities of thofe they murder, fancied that the fins of which he accufed the Publican would fwell the amount of his own good deeds. Like him we take a few items from memory, and a VOL, ii. c few c 26 SELF-EXAMINATION. few more from imagination. Inftead of pulling down the edifice which pride has raifed, we are looking round on our good works for buttreffes to prop it up. We ex- cufe ourfelves from the imputation of many faults by alleging that they are common, and by no means peculiar to ourfelves. This is one of the weakeft of our deceits. Faults are not lefs perfonally our’s becaufe others commit them. There is divifibility in fin as well as in matter. Is it any diminution of our error that others are guilty of the fame ? Self-love being a very induflrious princi¬ ple has generally two concerns in hand at the fame time. It is as bufy in concealing our own defefts as in detecting thofe of others, efpecially thofe of the wife and good. We might indeed dir eft its activity in the latter inftance to our own advantage, for if the faults of good men are injurious to themfelves, they might be rendered profi¬ table to us, if we were careful to convert them to their true ufe. But inftead of turn* v - : - ing SELF-EXAMINATION. 27 ing them into a means of promoting our own watchfulnefs, we employ them mif- chievoufly in two ways. We leffen our re- fpeCt for pious characters when we fee the infirmities which are blended with their fine qualities, and we turn their failings into a junification of our own, which are not like theirs overfhadowed with virtues. To ad¬ mire the excellences of others without imi¬ tating them is fruitlefs admiration, to con¬ demn their errors without avoiding them is unprofitable cenforioufnefs. When we are compelled by our con- fcience, to acknowlege and regret any fault we have recently committed, this fault fo preffes upon our recollection, that we feem to forget that we have any other. This fingle error fills our mind, and we look at it as through a telefcope, which, while it fhews an objeCt, confines the fight to that one objeCt exclufively. Others indeed are more effectually fhut out, than if we were not examining this. Thus while the objeCt c 2 in 2 % SELF-EXAMINATION. in queftion is magnified, the others are as if they did not exifl. It feems to be eftablifhed into a kind of fyftem not to profit by any thing without us, and not to cultivate an acquaintance with any thing within us. Though we are per¬ petually remarking on the defe&s of others, yet when does the remark lead us to fludy and to root out the fame defeats in our own hearts ? We are almoft every day hearing of the death of others, but does it induce us to refledl on death as a thing in which we have an individual concern ? We confider the death of a friend as a lofs, but feldom apply it as a warning. The death of others we lament, the faults of others we cenfure, but how feldom do we make ufe of the one for our own amend¬ ment, or of the other for our own prepa¬ ration * ? * For this hint, and a few others on the fame fub- }e£fc, the Author is indebted to that excellent Chriftian Moralift, M. Nicole, •-* It SELF-EXAMINATION* 29 It is the fafhion of the times to try expe* riments in the Arts, in Agriculture, in Phi" lofophy. In every fcience the diligent pro- feffor is always afraid there may be fome fecret which he has not yet attained, fome occult principle which would reward the labour of difcovery, fomething even which the afliduous and intelligent have actually found out, but which has hitherto eluded his purfuit. And fhall the Chriflian flop fliort in his fcrutiny, fhall he not examine and en¬ quire till he lays hold on the very heart and core of religion ? Why fhould experimental philofophy be the prevailing fludy, and experimental reli¬ gion be branded as the badge of enthufiafm, the cant of a hollow profeflion ? Shall we never labour to eftablifh the diflindtion be¬ tween appearance and reality, between fludying religion critically and embracing it pradically ? between having our condud: creditable and our heart fandified ? Shall we not afpire to do the befl things from the higheft motives, and elevate our aims with c 3 our SELF-EXAMINATION. 3 ° our attainments ? Why fhould we remain in the Veflibule when the San&uary is open ? Why fhould we be contented to dwell in the outer courts when we are invited to enter into the holieft by the blood of Jefus? Natural reafon is not likely to fumifh ar¬ guments fufficiently cogent, nor motives fuf- ficiently powerful, to drive us to a clofe felf- infpe&ion. Our corruptions fofter this ignorance. To this they owe their undif- puted poffeflion of our hearts. No princi¬ ple fhort of Chriflianity is ftrong enough to impel us to a fludy fo difagreeable as that of our faults. Of Chrilfianity, humility is the prime grace, and this grace can never take root and flourifh in a heart that lives in ignorance of itfelf. If we do not know the greatnefs and extent of our fins, if we do not know the imperfe&ion of our virtues, the fallibility of our bell refolutions, the infir¬ mity of our pureft purpofes,.we cannot be humble ; if we are not humble we cannot be Chriflians. . But j SELF-EXAMINATION. 3 I Bat it may be alked, is there to be no end to this vigilance? Is there no af- figned period when this felf-denial may become unneceflary? No given point when we may be emancipated from this vexatious felf-infpe&ion ? Is the matured Chriftian to be a Have to the fame drud¬ gery as the novice ? The true anfwer is —we may ceafe to watch, when our fpi- ritual enemy ceafes to alfail. We may be off our guard when there is no longer any temptation without. We may ceafe our felf-denial when there is no more corruption within. We may give the reins to our imagination when we are fure its tendencies will be towards heaven. We may difmifs repentance when fin is abo- lifhed. We may indulge felfilhnefs when we can do it without danger to our fouls. We may neglect prayer when we no longer need the favour of God. We may ceafe to praife him when he ceafes to be gracious to us. — To difcontinue c 4 our 3 2 SELF-EXAMINATION. our vigilance at any period fhort of this ■will be to defeat all the virtues we have pradlifed on earth, to put to hazard all our hopes of happinefs in heaven. CHAP. XIII. ■ ... r . ■ . /, , ■ Self-Love. “ The idol Self,” fays an excellent old Divine *, it is the tempeft which agitates . • the fleeping ocean. Had the image been as juft as its cloathing is beautifulj or rather had Mr. Pope been as found a Theologian as he was an exquifite poet, the allufton in his hands might have conveyed a founder meaning without lofing a particle of its elegance. This might have been effe&ed by only fubftituting the effect for the caufe; that is, by making benevolence the principle inftead of the confequence, and by difcard- # Eflay on Man,, L 362. mg SELF-LOVE. 37 ing felf-love from its central fituation in the confirmation of the metaphor. But by arraying a beggarly idea in princely robes, he knew that his own fplendid powers could at any time transform meannefs into majefly, and deformity into beauty. After all however, le vrai ejl le feul beau . Had he not blindly adopted the mifleading fyflem of the noble fceptic, 6C His guide, philofopher, and friend, 5 ’ he might have transferred the fhining attributes of the bafe- born thing which he has drefled out with fo many graces to the legitimate claimant. Benevolence; of which felf-love is fo far from being, as he reprefents, the moving fpring, that they are both working in a courfe of inceflant countera£tion, the fpirit flriving againfl the flefli, and the flefh againft the fpirit. To Chriflian benevolence all the happy effects attributed to felf-love might have been fairly traced. It was only to diflodge the idol and make the love of God the centre, and the poet’s delightful numbers might have SELF-LOVE. 38 have conveyed truths worthy of fo perfeft a vehicle. “ This centre moved,” does in¬ deed extend its pervading influence in the very manner afcribed to the oppofite prin¬ ciple ; does indeed fpread from its throne in the individual breaft, to all thofe fucceflive circles, “ wide and more wide” of which the poet makes felf-love the firfh mover *. The Apoftle James appears to have been of a different opinion from the Ethic bard; he fpeaks as if he fufpe&ed that the pebble * Self-love thus pufh’d to focial, to divine. Gives thee to make thy neighbour’s blefiing thine. Self-love but ferves the virtuous mind to make As the fmall pebble flirs the peaceful lake ; The centre mov’d, a circle ftrait fucceeds, Another ftill, and ftill another fpreads ; Friend, parent, neighbour, firft it will embrace. His country next, and next all human race. «.... > The Author hopes to be forgiven for thefe remarks ; fhe has hazarded them for the fake of her more youth¬ ful readers.— She has not forgotten the time when in the admiration of youthful enthufiafm, fhe never fu£ pe&ed that the principle of thefe finifhed verfes was lefs excellent than the poetry. 4 ftirred SELF-LOVE. 39 ftirred the lake a little too roughly. He traces this mifchievous principle from its birth to the largeft extent of its malign in¬ fluence. — The queftion, “ whence come wars and fightings among you ?” he anfwers by another queftion— “ come they not hence, even of your lulls that war in your members ?” The fame pervading fpirit which creates hoflility between nations, creates animofity among neighbours, and difcord in families. It is the fame principle which, having in the beginning made “ Cain the firfl male child,” a murderer in his father’s houfe, has been ever fmce in perpetual operation; has been tranfmitted in one unbroken line of fuccef- fion, through that long chain of crimes of which hiflory is compofed, to the prefent triumphant fpoiler of Europe.—In cultivated focieties, laws reprefs, by punifhing, the overt ad in private individuals, but no one thing but the Chriflian religion has ever been devifed to cleanfe the fpring. “ The 40 SELF-LOVE. “ The Heart is deceitful above all things and defperately wicked, who can know it ?” This propofition, this interrogation, we read with complacency, and both the aphorifm and the queftion being a portion of Scripture, we think it would not be decent to controvert it. We read it however with a fecret refer- vation, that it is only the heart of all the reft of the world that is meant, and we rarely make the application which the Scrip¬ ture intended. Each hopes that there is one heart which may efcape the charge, and he makes the fingle exception in favour of his own. But if the exception which every one makes were true, there would not be a de¬ ceitful or wicked heart in the world. As a theory we are ready enough to ad¬ mire felf-knowledge, yet when the practice comes in queftion we are as blindfold as if our happinefs depended on our ignorance. To lay hold on a religious truth and to maintain our hold is no eafy matter. Our underftandings are not more ready to receive than SELF-LOVE. 41 than our affections to lofe it. We like to have an intellectual knowlege of divine things, but to cultivate a fpiritual acquaint¬ ance with them cannot be effected at fo cheap a rate. We can even more readily force ourfelves to believe that which has no affinity with our underflanding, than we can bring ourfelves to chufe that which has no intereft in our will, no correfpondence with our paffions. One of the firft duties of a Chriftian is to endeavour to conquer this antipathy to the felf-denying doCtrines againft which the human heart fo flurdily holds out. The learned take incredible pains for the acqui- fition of knowlege. The Philofopher cheer¬ fully confumes the midnight oil in his la¬ borious purfuits $ he willingly facrifices foocl and reft to conquer a difficulty in fcience. Here the labour is pleafant, the fatigue is grateful, the very difficulty is not without its charms. Why do we feel fo differently in our religious purfuits ? Becaufe in the moft operofe human ftudies, there is no contra¬ diction 42 SELF-LOVE. diction to felf, there is no oppofition to the will, there is no combat of the affections. If the paffions are at all implicated, if felf- love is at all concerned, it is rather in the way of gratification than of oppofition. There is fuch a thing as a mechanical Chriftianity. There are good imitations of religion, fo well executed and fo refembling as not only to deceive the fpeCtator but the artifl. Self-love in its various artifices to deceive us to our ruin, fometimes makes ufe of a means, which, if properly ufed, is one of the mofl beneficial that can be de- vifed to^referve us from its influence, the perufal of pious Books, , But thefe very Books in the hands of the ignorant, the indolent, and the felf-fatisfied, produce an effeCt direCtly contrary to that which they were intended to produce, and which they actually do produce on minds prepared for the perufal. They inflate where they were intended to humble. As fome Hypochondriacs who amufe their melancholy hours with confulting indifcriminately every medical SELF-LOVE. 43 medical book which falls in their way, fancy they find their own cafe in every page, their own ailment in the ailment of every patient, till they believe they a&ually feel every pain of which they read, though the work treats of cafes diametrically oppofite to their own— So the religious Valetudinarian, as unreason¬ ably elated as the others are depreffed, reads books defcriptive of a highly religious flate, with the fame unhappy felf-application. He feels his fpiritual pulfe by a watch, that has no movements in common with it, yet he fancies that they go exa&ly alike. He dwells with delight on fymptoms, not one of which belongs to him, and flatters himfelf with their fuppofed agreement. He obferves in thofe books what are the figns of grace, and he obferves them with complete felf-appli¬ cation ; he traces what are the evidences of being in God’s favour, and thofe evidences he finds in himfelf. • Self-ignorance appropriates truths faith¬ fully ftated but wholly inapplicable. The prefumption of the Novice arrogates to itfelf the 44 SELF-LOVE. the experience of the advanced Chriftianv He is perfuaded that it is his own cafe and feizes on the confolations which belong only to the moll elevated piety. Self-knowlege would cor red: the judgment. It would teach us to ufe the pattern held out as an original to copy, inftead of leading us to fancy that we are already wrought into the aftimilation. It would teach us when we read the hiftory of an eftablifhed Chriftian, to labour after a conformity to it, inllead of miftaking it for the delineation of our own chara&er. Human prudence, daily experience, felf- love, all teach us to diftruft others, but all motives combined do not teach us to diftruft ourfelves; we confide unrefervedly in our own heart, though as a guide it mifleads, as a counfellor it betrays. It is both party and judge. As the one it blinds through ignorance, as the other it acquits through partiality. Though we value ourfelves upon our dis¬ cretion in not confiding too implicitly in others, yet it would be difficult to find any friend. SELF-LOVE* v 45 friend, any neighbour, or even any enemy who has deceived us fo often as we have de¬ ceived ourfelves. If an acquaintance betray us, we take warning, are on the watch, and are careful not to trull him again. But however frequently the bofom traitor deceive and millead, no fuch determined Hand is made againfl his treachery: We lie as open to his next alfault as if he had never betrayed us. We do not profit by the remembrance of the pad delufion to guard againfl the future. Yet if another deceive us, it is only in matters refpefting this world, but we de¬ ceive ourfelves in things of eternal moment. The treachery of others can only affefl our fortune or our fame, or at word our peace j but the internal traitor may millead us to our everlading dedru&ion. We are too much difpofed to fufpecl others who probably have neither the inclination nor the power to in¬ jure us, but we feldom fufpedl our own heart though it poddies and employs both. We ought however fairly to didinguilh be¬ tween SELF-LOVE* 46 tween the fimple vanity and the hypocrify of felf-love. Thofe who content themfelves Vdth talking as if the praife of virtue implied the pra&ice, and who expeft to be thought good, becaufe they commend goodnefs, only propagate the deceit which has milled themfelves, whereas hypocrify does not even believe herfelf. She has deeper motives, {he has defigns to anfwer, competitions to promote, proje&s to effeft. But mere vanity can fubfifl on the thin air of the admiration {he folicits, without intending to get anything by it. She is gratuitous in her loquacity ; for fhe is ready to difplay her own merit to thofe who have nothing to give in return, whofe applaufe brings no profit, and whofe cenfure no difgrace. It is not llrange that we Ihould judge of things not according to truth, but according to the opinion of others in cafes foreign to ourfelves, cafes on which we have no correct means of determining ; but we do it in things which relate immediately to ourfelves, thus making not truth but the opinion of others ..* our SELF-LOVE. 47 our ftandard in points which others cannot know, and of which we ought not to be ig¬ norant. We are as fond of the applaufes even of the upper gallery as the dramatic poet. Like him we affedt to defpife the mob confidered as individual judges, yet as a mafs we covet their applaufe. Like him we feel {Lengthened by the number of voices in our favour, and are lefs anxious about the goodnefs of the work than the loudnefs of the acclamation. Succefs is merit in the eye of both. But even though we may put more refine¬ ment into our felf-love, it is felf-love dill. No fubtlety of reafoning, no elegance of tafle, though it may difguife the radical principle, can dedroy it. We are dill too much in love with flattery even though we may profefs to defpife that praife which de¬ pends on the acclamations of the vulgar. But if we are over anxious for the admiration of the better born and the better bred, this by no means proves that we are not vain, it only proves that our vanity has a better tade. Our SELF-LOVE# 4 ? Our appetite is not coarfe enough perhaps to relifh that popularity which ordinary ambition covets, but do we never feed in fecret on the applaufes of more diftinguifhing judges ? Is not their having extolled cur merit a confir¬ mation of their difcernment, and the chief ground of our high opinion of theirs ? But if any circumflance arife to induce them to change the too favourable opinion which they had formed of us, though their general char after remain unimpeachable, and their general conduft as meritorious as when we moft admired them, do we not begin to judge them unfavourably ? Do we not begin to queflion their claim to that difcernment which we had afcribed to them, to fufpeft the foundnefs of their judgment which we had fo loudly commended ? It is well if we do not entertain fome doubt of thereftitude of their principles, as we probably do of the reality of their friendfhip. We do not can¬ didly allow for the effeft which prejudice, which mifreprefentation, which party may produce even on an upright mind. Still lefs SELF-LOVE. 49 lefs does it enter into our calculation that we may actually have deferved their difap- probation, that fomething in our condud may have incurred the change in theirs. It is no low attainment to deted this lurk¬ ing injudice in our hearts, to llrive againd it, to pray againd it, and efpecially to con¬ quer it. We may reckon that we have ac¬ quired a found principle of integrity when prejudice no longer blinds our judgment, nor refentment biafies our juflice; when we do not make our opinion of another, depend on the opinion which we conceive he entertains of us. We mud keep a juft meafure, and hold an even balance in judg¬ ing of ourfelves as well as of others. We mud have no falfe edimate which fliall in¬ cline to condemnation without, or to partia¬ lity within. The examining principle mud be kept found or our determination will not be exad. It mud be at once a tedimony of our reditude, and an incentive to it. In order to improve this principle, we fhould make it a ted of our lincerity to fearch out and to commend the good quali- VQL. IX. D ties 50 SELF-LOVE. ties of thofe who do not like us. But this mud be done without affeCtation and with¬ out infmcerity. We muft praCtife no falfe candor. If we are not on our guard we may be laying out for the praife of genero- fity* while we are only exercifing a fimple a£t of juftice. Thefe refinements of felfi- love are the dangers only of fpirits of the higher order, but to fuch they are dangers. The ingenuity of felf-deceit is inexhaufti- ble. If people extol us, we feel our good opinion of ourfelves confirmed. If they diflike us, we do not think the worfe of ourfelves but of them ; it is not we who want merit but they who want penetration. If we cannot refufe them difcemment, we perfuade ourfelves that they are not fo much infenfible to our worth as envious of it. There is no fhift, ftratagem, or device which we do not employ to make us Hand well with ourfelves. We are too apt to calculate our own cha¬ racter unfairly in two ways, by referring to fome onefignal act of generofity, as if fuch .: ,aCts SELF-LOVE. 5 1 acts were the common habit of our lives, and by treating our habitual faults, not as common habits but occafional failures. There is fcarcely any fault in another which offends us more than vanity, though perhaps there is none that really injures us fo little. We have no patience that another fhould be as full of felf-love as we allow ourfelves to be; fo full of himfelf as to have little lei- fure to attend to us. We are particularly quick-fighted to the fmallefl of his imper¬ fections which interferes with our felf- efieem, while we are lenient to his more grave offences, which, by not coming in contact with our vanity, do not fhock our felf-love. Is it not flrange that though we love our¬ felves fo much better than we love any other perfon, yet there is hardly one, however little we value him, that we had not rather be alone with, that we had not rather converfe with, that we had not rather come to clofe quarters with, than ourfelves? Scarcely one whofe private hiflory, whofe d 2 thoughts. SELF-LOVE. 5 * thoughts, feelings, actions, and motives wc had not rather pry into than our own ? Do ,we not ufe every art and contrivance to avoid getting at the truth of our own cha¬ racter ? Do we not endeavour to keep purfelves ignorant of what every one elfe knows refpeCting our faults, and do we not account that man our enemy, who takes on himfelf the bed office of a friend, that of opening to us our real date and con¬ dition ? The little fatisfaCtion people find when they faithfully look within, makes them fly more eagerly to things without. Early prac¬ tice and long habit might conquer the re¬ pugnance to look at home, and the fondnefs for looking abroad. Familiarity often makes us pleafed with the fociety which, while ftrangers, we dreaded. Intimacy with our- felves might produce a fimilar effeCt. We might perhaps colleCt a tolerably juft knowlege of our own character, could we afcertain the real opinion of others refpeCt¬ ing us; but that opinion being, except in a moment SELF-LOVE. 53 - moment of refentment, carefully kept from us by our own precautions, profits us no¬ thing. We do not chufe to know their fe- cret fentiments becaufe we do not chufe to be cured of our error; becaufe we “ love darknefs rather than lightbecaufe we con¬ ceive that in parting with our vanity, we fhould part with the only comfort we have, that of being ignorant of our own faults. Seif-knowlege would materially contri¬ bute to our happinefs, by curing us of that felf-fufficiency which is continually expofmg us to mortifications. The hourly rubs and Vexations which pride undergoes is far more than an equivalent for the fhort intoxications of pleafure which it fnatches. The enemy within is always in a confede¬ racy with the enemy without, whether that enemy be the world or the devil. The do- meftic foe accommodates itfelf to their al¬ lurements, flatters our weakneffes, throws a veil over our vices, tarnifhes our good deeds, gilds our bad ones, hoodwinks our judge- d 3 ment. 54 §ELF-LOVE* nient, and works hard to conceal our inter¬ nal fprings of aCtion. Self-love has the talent of imitating what¬ ever the world admires, even though it fhould happen to be the Chriftian virtues. It leads us from our regard to reputation to avoid all vices, not only which w r ould bring punifh- ment but difcredit by the commiffion. It, can even affume the zeal and copy the activi¬ ty of Chriftian charity. It communicates to our conduCt thofe proprieties and graces manifefled in the conduCt of thofe who are actuated by a founder motive. The differ¬ ence lies in the ends propofed. The objeCt of the one is to pleafe God, of the other to obtain the praife of man. Self-love, judging of the feelings of others by its own, is aware that nothing excites fo much odium as its own character would do, if nakedly exhibited. We feel by our own difguft at its exhibition in others, how much difguft we ourfelves fhould excite did we not inveft it with the foft garb of gentle manners and a polifhed addrefs. When therefore SELF-LOVE. 55 therefore we would not condefcend “ to take the lowell place, to think others better than ourfelves, to be courteous and pitiful,” on the true Scripture ground, politenefs fteps in as the accredited fubftitute of humility, and the counterfeit brilliant is willingly worn by thofe who will not be at the expence of the jewel. ~ There is a certain elegance of mind which will often reft rain a well-bred man from fordid pleafures and grofs voluptuoufnefs. He will be led by his good tafle perhaps not only to abhor the excefles of vice, but to ad¬ mire the theory of virtue. But it is only the crapule of vice which he will abhor. Exquifite gratifications, fober luxury, incef- fant but not unmeafured enjoyment, form the principle of his plan of life, and if he obferve a temperance in his pleafures, it is only be- caufe excefs would take off the edge, deftroy the zed, and abridge the gratification. By redding grofs vice he datters himfelf that he is a temperate man, and that he has made all the facridces which felf-denial impofes. D 4 Inwardly SELF-LOVE. s 6 Inwardly fatisfied, he compares himfelf with thofe who have funk into coarfer indulgences, enjoys his own fuperiority in health, credit, and unimpaired faculties, and triumphs in the dignity of his own character. There is, if the expreflioif may be allowed, a fort of religious felf-deceit, an affectation of humility which is in reality full of felf, Avhich is entirely occupied with felf, which refolves all importance into what concerns felf, which only looks at things as they refer to felf. This religious vanity operates in two ways. — We not only fly out at the im¬ putation of the fmallefl individual fault, while at the fame time we afleft to charge ourfelves with more corruption than is attributed to us; but on the other hand, while we are lamenting our general want of all goodnefs, we fight for every particle that is difputed. The one quality that is in queflion always happens to be the very one to which we mujl lay claim, however deficient in others. — Thus, while renouncing the pretenfion to every virtue, “ we depreciate ourfelves into all.” SELF-LOVE. 57 all.” We had rather talk even* of our faults than not occupy the foreground of the canvas. Humility does not confifl: in telling our faults, but in bearing to be told of them, in hearing them patiently and even thankfully - r in correcting ourfelves when told, in not hating thofe who tell us of them. If we were little in our own eyes, and felt our real infignificance, we fhould avoid falfe humility as much as mere obvious vanity; but we feldom dwell on our faults except in a gene¬ ral way, and rarely on thofe of which we are really guilty. We do it in the hope of being contradi&ed, and thus of being confirmed in the fecret good opinion we entertain of our¬ felves. It is not enough that we inveigh againfl ourfelves, we muft in a manner forget ourfelves. This oblivion of felf from a pure principle would go further towards our ad¬ vancement in Chriftian virtue than the mod fplendid aCtions performed on the oppofite ground. - d 5 That SELF-LOVE. 5» That felf-knowlege which teaches us hu¬ mility teaches us compaflion alfo, The Tick * pity the Tick. They fympathize with thedifor- der of which they feel the fymptoms in them- felves. Self-knowlege alfo checks injuftice by eftablifhing the equitable principle of (hewing the kindnefs we expert to receive; it re- preffes ambition by convincing us how little we are entitled to fuperiority; it renders adverfity profitable by letting us fee how much we deferve it; it makes profperity fafe, by dire&ing our hearts to him who confers it, inflead of receiving it as the con- fequence of our own defert. We even carry our felf-importance to the foot of the Throne of God. When prof- trate there we are not required, it is true, to forget ourfelves, but we are required to re¬ member him. We have indeed much fin to lament, but we have alfo much mercy to adore. We have much to afk, but we have . likewife much to acknowlege : Yet our in¬ finite obligations to God do not fill our hearts SELF-LOVE. 59 hearts half as much as a petty uneafmefs of our own; nor his infinite perfe&ions as much as our own fmalleft want. The great, the only effectual antidote to felf-love is to get the love of God and of our neighbour firmly rooted in the heart. Yet let us ever bear in mind that dependance on our fellow-creatures is as carefully to be avoided as love of them is to be cultivated. There is none but God on whom the prin¬ ciples of love and dependence form but one duty. D 6 < [ 6o ] CHAP. XIV. On the conc!u£t of Chriftians in their Intercourfe with the Irreligious. THE combination of integrity with difcre- tion is the precife point at which a ferious Chriftian muft aim in his intercourfe, and efpecialiy, in his debates on religion, with men of the oppoftte defcription. He mull confider himfelf as not only having his own reputation but the honour of religion in his keeping. While he muft on the one hand erfons, honeflly, though blindly, reft their habitual, and even fyftematic referve on reli¬ gious fubje&s. But “ familiarity” in our mind has reference rather to the manner, than to the a£l, of introducing religion. To us it is fynonimous with a certain trite and trivial repetition of ferious remarks, evidently “ to no profit,” which we fometimes hear from perfons familiarized,rather by education than feeling, to the language of piety. More INTRODUCING RELIGION, &C. 95 TV(ore particularly we refer it to a Hill more criminal habit, which to their difgrace, fome profeffors of religion fhare with the profane, of raifing a laugh by the introduction of a religious obfervation or even a fcriptural quo¬ tation. To court a grin when we fhoul 1 woo a foul,” is furely an abufe of religion, as well in the parlour as the pulpit. Nor has the fenate itfelf been always exempt from this impropriety. Dr. Johnfon has long fince pronounced a jell drawn from the •Bible, the vulgareft becaufe the ealiefl of all jells. — And far from perverting religious topics to fuch a purpofe himfelf, a feeling •Chrillian would not often be found, where fuch would be the probable confequence of offering a pious fentiment in company. That allufions involving religious queilions are often productive ofdifpute and altercation, is a faCti which though greatly exaggerated, muff yet, in a degree be admitted. This 'circumftance may in fome meafure account for the fingular reception which a religious remark is often obferved to meet with in the world. 96 ON THE PROPRIETY OP world. It is curious to notice the furprize and alarm which, on fuch occafions, will fre* quently pervade the party prefent. The re¬ mark is received as a ftranger-guefl, of which no one knows the quality or inten¬ tions. And, like a fpecies of intelle&ual foundling, it is call upon the company with¬ out a friend to fofter its infancy, or to own any acquaintance with the parent. A fear of confequences prevails. It is obvious that the feeling is — “ We know not into what it may grow ; it is therefore fafer to ftifle it in the birth.” This if not the avowed is the implied fentiment. But is not this delicacy, this mauvaife honte , fo peculiar perhaps to our countrymen on religious fubje&s, the very caufe which operates fo unfavourably upon that effe£l which it labours to obviate ? Is not the very infrequency of moral or religious obferva- tions, a fufficient account to be given both of the perplexity and the irritation faid to be confequent upon their introdu&ion ? And were not religion (we mean fuch religious topics INTRODUCING RELIGION, &C. gy topics as may legitimately arife in mixed fo* ciety) banilhed fo much as it is from conver- lation, might not its occafional recurrence become by degrees as natural, perhaps as interefting, certainly as inftru&ive, and after all as fafe as “a clofe committee on the weather,” or any other of the authorized topics which are about as productive of amufement as of inftruCtion ? People a£t as if Religion were to be regarded at a dif- tance, as if even a refpeCtful ignorance were to be preferred to a more familiar approach. This referve, however, does not give an air of refpedt fo much as of myftery to Religion. An able writer * has obferved, u that was efteemed the moft facred part of pagan de¬ votion which was the moil impure, and the only thing that was commendable in it is, that it was kept a great myftery.” He ap¬ proves of nothing in this religion but the modefty of withdrawing itfelf from the eyes of the world. — But Chriftianity requires * Biihop Sherlock. VOL. II. F not I 98 ON THE PROPRIETY OF not to be fhrouded in any fuch myflerious recedes. She does not, like the Eaflern monarchs, owe her dignity to her conceal¬ ment. She is, on the contrary, moil ho¬ noured where mod: known, and moil revered where more clearly vifible. It will be obvious that hints rather than arguments belong to our prefent undertak¬ ing. In this view we may perhaps be excuf- ed if we offer a few general obfervations upon the different occafions on which a well- regulated mind would be folicitous to intro¬ duce religion into focial difcourfe. The perfon poffeffed of fuch a mind, would be mainly anxious in a fociety of chriflians, that fomething fhould appear indicative of their profeffion. He would accordingly feel a lfrong defire to effed: it when he plainly perceived his company engaged on no other topic either innocently entertaining, or ra¬ tionally inftru(Stive. This defire, however, would by no means cloud his brow, give an air of impatience to his countenance, or ren¬ der him inattentive to the general tone and temper INTRODUCING RELIGION, &C. 99 temper of the circle. » On the contrary, he would endeavour to feel additional intereff in his neighbour’s fuggeftions, in proportion as he hoped in turn to attrad notice to his own. He would (hew long forbearance ter the utmofl extent of confcientious toleration. In the profecution of his favourite defign, he would never attempt a forced or unfeafon* able allufion to ferious fubjeds; a caution requiring the nicefl judgment and difcrimi* nation, moft particularly where he felt the fentiments or the zeal of his company to be not congenial with his own. His would be the fpirit of the prudent mariner, who does not approach even his native fhore without carefully watching the winds, and founding the channels; knowing well that a tern* porary delay, even on an unfriendly ele¬ ment, is preferable to a hafty landing his company, on fhore indeed, but upon the point of a rock. Happily for our prefent purpofe, the days we live in afford circumflances both of fo¬ reign and domeftic occurrence, of every pof- f 2 fible 160 ON THE PROPRIETY OF fible variety of colour and connexion, fo as to leave fcarcely any mind unfurniffied with a (lore of progreffive remarks by which the moil indru&ive truths may be approached through the mod obvious topics. And a prudent mind will ftudy to make its ap¬ proaches to fuch an ultimate objeft, pro¬ greffive : it will know alfo where to flop, rather indeed out of regard to others than to itfelf. And in the manly avowal of its fen- timents, avoiding as well what is canting in utterance as technical in language, it will make them at once appear, not the ebullition of an ill-educated imagination, but the refult of a long-exercifed underdanding. Nothing will be more likely to attract attention or fecure refpeft to your remarks than the good tade in which they are deli¬ vered. On common topics we reckon him the mod elegant fpeaker whofe pronuncia¬ tion and accent are fo free from all peculia¬ rities that it cannot be determined to what i place he owes his birth. A poliffied critic of Rome accufes one of the fined of her , hidorians INTRODUCING RELIGION* &C. 101 hiltorians of provinciality. This is a fault obvious to lefs enlightened critics, lince the Attic herb-woman could dete£l the provin¬ cial dialect of a great philofopher. Why mull religion have her Patavinity ? Why mull a Chrillian adopt the quaintnefs of a party, or a fcholar the idiom of the illiterate ? Why Ihould a valuable truth be combined with a vulgar or fanatical expreffion ? If either would offend when feparate, how ine¬ vitably mull they difgull when the one is millakenly intended to fet off the other. Surely this is not enchafing our “ apples of gold in pictures of filver.” We mull not clofe this part of our fubjedl without alluding to another, and llill more delicate introduction of religion, in the way of reproof. Here is indeed a point in reli¬ gious conduct to which we feel it a boldnefs to make any reference at all. Bold, indeed, is that cafuill who would lay down general rules on a fubjedl where the confciences of men feem to differ fo widely from each other : and feeble too often will be his jullefl f 3 rules 102 ON THE PROPRIETY OF rules where the feelings of timidity or deli¬ cacy rufh in with a force which fweeps down many a land-mark ere&ed for its own guid¬ ance, even by confcience itfelf. Certainly, much allowance, perhaps re- fpefr, is due in cafes of very doubtful deci- fion, to thofe feelings which, after the utmoft felf-regulation of mind, are found to be irre- fiftible. And certainly the habits and modes of addrefs attached to refined fociety, are fuch as to place perfonal obfervations on a very different footing to that on which they hand by nature. — A frown, even a cold and difapproving look, may be a reception which the profane expreffion, or loofe a&ion of a neighbour of rank and opulence may have never before encountered from his flatterers or convivial companions. A vehement cen- fure in his cafe might inflame his refentment without amending his fault. Whether the attempt be to correct a vice or rectify an error, one obje£t fhould ever be fheadily kept in view, to conciliate rather than to con¬ tend, to inform but not to infult, to evince i > . that INTRODUCING RELIGION, &C. 1 03 that we affume not the character of a dicta¬ tor but the office of a Chriflian friend; that we have the belt interefls of the offender, and the honour of religion at heart, and that to reprove is fo far from a gratification that it is a trial to ourfelves; the effort of confcience not the effeCt of choice. The feelings, therefore, of the perfon to be admonifhed fhould be molt fcrupuloufly confulted. The admonition, if neceffarily flrong, explicit, and perfonal, fhould yet be friendly, temperate and well bred. An of¬ fence even though publicly committed, is generally befl reproved in private, perhaps in writing. — Age, fuperiority of ftation, previous acquaintance, above all, that facred profeffion to which the honour of religion is happily made a perfonal concern, are cir- cumftances which efpecially call for, and fanCtion the attempt recommended. And he muff furely be unworthy his Chriflian vocation, who would not confcientioufly ufe any influence or authority which he might . ' f 4 chance ) 104 ON THE FROPRIETY OF chance to poflefs, in difcountenancing or rec¬ tifying the delinquency he condemns. We are, indeed, as elfewhere, after the clofed reflection and longed difcuffion, often forced into the general conclufion that “ a good heart is the bed cafuid.” And doubt- lefs, where true Chridian benevolence to¬ wards man meets in the fame mind with an honed zeal for the glory of God, a way will be found, let us fay rather will be opened, for the right exercife of this, as of every virtuous difpofition. Let us ever remember what we have fo often infided on, that felf-denial is the ground-work, the indifpenfable requifite for every Chridian virtue ; that without the ha¬ bitual exercife of this principle we fhall never be followers of him “ who pleafed not him- felf. ,, And when we are called by con- fcience to the larged ufe of it in practice, we mud arm ourfelves with the highed con- fiderations for the trial: we mud confider him, who (through his faithful reproofs) “ endured INTRODUCING RELIGION, &C. 105 “ endured the contradi&ion of fmners againft himfelf.” And when even from Mofes we hear the truly evangelical precept, “ thou {halt in any wife rebuke thy brother, and not fuffer fin upon him;” we mull duly weigh how ftrongly its performance is en¬ forced upon ourfelves, by the conduct of one greater than Mofes, who exprefsly “ fuffer- ed for us, leaving us an example that we fhould follow his footfteps,” CHAP, XVI. Chriflian Watchfulnefs. OF all the motives to vigilance and felf- difcipline which Chriftianity prefents, there is not one more powerful than the danger, from which even religious perfons are not exempt, of fiackening in zeal and declining in piety. Would we could affirm that cold- nefs in religion is confined to the irreligious ! If it be melancholy to obferve an abfence of Chriftianity where no great profeffion of it was ever made, it is far more grievous to mark its declenfion where it once appeared not only to exift, but to flouriffi. We feel on the comparifon, the fame diftinft fort of compaffion with which we contemplate the pecuniary diftreffes of thofe who have been always indigent, and of thofe who have fallen into want from a Hate of opulence. Our concern differs not only in degree but in kind. This CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. 1 07 This declenfion is one of the moft awaken¬ ing calls to watchfulnefs, to humility and felf-infpe&ion which religion can make to him u who thinketh he ftandetli” — which it can make to him who, fenfible of his own weaknefs, ought to feel the neceffity “ of ftrengthening the things which remain that are ready to die.” If there is not any one circumftance which ought more to alarm and quicken the Chrif- tian, than that of finding himfelf grow languid and indifferent, after having made not only a profeflion, but a progrefs, fo there is not a more reafonable motive of triumph to the profane, not one caufe which excites in him a more plaufible ground of fufpicion, either that there never was any truth in the profeflion of the perfon in quef- tion, or which is a more fatal, and to fuch a mind, a more natural conclufion, that there is no truth in religion itfelf. At befl, he will be perfuaded that this can only be a faint and feeble principle, the impuife of which is fo foon exhaufted, and which is "" F 6 by I08 CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS* by no means found fufficiently powerful to carry on its votary throughout his courfe. — He is allured that piety is only an outer gar¬ ment, put on for {hew or convenience, and that when it ceafes to be wanted for either, it is laid afide. In thefe unhappy inftances the evil feldom ceafes with him who caufes it. The inference becomes general, that all religious men are equally unfound or equally deluded, only that fome are more prudent, or more fortunate, or greater hypocrites than others. After the falling away of one pro- mifing character, the old fufpicion recurs and is confirmed, and the defection of others pronounced to be infallible. There feems to be this marked diftin£tion in the different opinions which religious and worldly men entertain refpedling human cor¬ ruption. The candid Chriftian is contented to believe it, as an indifputable general truth, while he is backward to fufpeft the wicked- nefs of the individual, nor does he allow himfelf to give full credit to particular in¬ stances without proof. The man of the world CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. 109 world on the contrary, who denies the general principle, is extremely prone to fuf- pe£t the individual. Thus his knowlege of mankind not only furnifhes a proof, but outftrips the truth, of the do&rine; though he denies it as a proportion of fcripture, he is eager to eftablifh it as a fad: of experiment. But the probability is, that the man, who by his departure from the principles with which he appeared to fet out, fo much gra¬ tifies the thoughtlefs, and grieves the ferious mind, never was a found and genuine Chrif- tian. His religion was perhaps taken up on fome accidental circumflance, built on fome falfe ground, produced by fome evanefcent caufe; and though it cannot be fairly pro¬ nounced that he intended by his forward profeflion, and prominent zeal, to deceive others, it is probable that he himfelf was deceived. Perhaps he had made too fure of himfelf. His early profeflion was probably rather bold and oflentatious; he had impru¬ dently fixed his ffand on ground fo high as to be not eafily tenable, and from which a defcent 110 CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. defcent would be but too obfervable. While he thought he never could be too fecure of his own flrength, he allowed himfelf to be too cenforious on the infirmities of others, efpecially of thofe whom he had apparently outflripped, and who, though they had flarted together, he had left behind him in the race. Might it not be a fafer courfe, if in the outfet of the chriflian life, a modefl and felf- diflrufling humility were to impofe a tempo¬ rary refir aint on the forwardnefs of outward profeflion. A little knowlege of the human heart, a little fufpicion of the deceitfulnefs of his own, would not only moderate the intemperance of an ill-underflood zeal, fhould the warm convert become an eflab- lifhed chriflian, but would fave the credit of religion, which will receive a frefh wound, in the poflible event of his defertion from her flandard. Some of the mofl diflinguifhed Chriflians in this country began their religious career with this graceful humility. . They would 4 not - . jt CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. 111 not fuffer their change of character and their adoption of new principles, and a new courfe, to be blazoned abroad, as the affe&ionate zeal of their confidential friends would have advifed, till the principles they had adopted were eftabliffied, and worked into habits of piety; till time and experience had evinced that the grace of God had not been bellowed on them in vain. Their progrefs proved to be fuch as might have been inferred from the modefly of their outlet. They have gone on with a perfeverance which difficulties have only contributed to flrengthen, and ex¬ perience to confirm; and will, through divine aid, doubtlefs go on, fhining more and more unto the perfect day. But to return to the lefs fleady convert. Perhaps religion was only, as we have hinted elfewhexe, one purfuit among many which he had taken up when other purfuits failed, and which he now lays down, becaufe his faith not being rooted and grounded, fails alfo 5 — or the temptations arifing from without might concur with the failure within. If 112 CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. If vanity be his infirmity, he will fhrink from the pointed difapprobation of his fuperiors. If the love of novelty be his befetting weak- nefs, the very peculiarity and ftri&nefs of religion, the very marked departure from the “ gay and primrofe path” in which he had before been accuflomed to walk, which firft attracted, now repel him. The atten¬ tion which his early deviation from the man¬ ners of the world drew upon him, and which once flattered, now difgufts him. The very oppofition which once animated, now cools him. He is difcouraged at the near view, fubdued by the required practice, of that chriflian felf-denial which, as a fpeculation, had appeared fo delightful. Perhaps his fancy had been fired by fome a£ts of Ghriftian heroifm, which he felt an ambition to imitate: a feeling which tales of martial prowefs, or deeds of chivalry, fomething that promifmg celebrity, and exciting emulation, had often kindled before. The truth is, religion had only taken hold of his imagination, his heart had been left out of the queftion. Or CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. IIJ Or he had in the twilight of his firfi; awakening, feen religion only as fomething to be believed — he now finds that much is to be done in the new life, and much which was habitual to the old one, left undone. — Above all he did not reckon on the con¬ sistency which the chriftian life demands. Warm affections rendered the practice of fome right actions eafy to him $ but he did not include in his faulty and imperfeCt fcheme, the felf-denial, the perfeverance, the renouncing of his own will and his own way, the evil report, as well as the good report, to which every man pledges himfelf, when he enlifts under the banner of Chrift. The crofs which it was eafy to venerate, he finds it hard to bear. Or religion might be adopted when he was in affliction and he is now happy; — when he was in bad circumftances, and he is now grown affluent. Or it might be af- fumed as fomething wanting to his recom¬ mendation to that party or project by which he wilhed to make his way j as fomething that 114 CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. that would better enable him to carry certain points which he had in view; fomething, that with the new acquaintance he wilhed to cultivate, might obliterate certain defe&s in his former conduct, and white-walh a fome- what fullied reputation. Or in his now more independent fituation, it may be he is furrounded by temptations, foftened by blandifhments, allured by plea- fures, which he never expe&ed would arife to weaken his refolutions. Thefe new en¬ chantments make it not fo eafy to be pious* as when he had little to lofe and every thing to defire, as when the world wore a frown- ing, and religion an inviting afped. — Or he is perhaps, by the viciflitudes of life, transferred from a fober and humble fociety, where to be religious was honorable, to a more fafhionable fet of alfociates, where, as the difclofure of his piety would add nothing to his credit, he fet out with taking pains to conceal it, till it has fallen into that gradual oblivion, which is the natural confequence of its being kept out of fight. But CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. 115 But we proceed to a far more interefting and important chara&er. The one indeed whom we have been flightly Iketching, may by his inconftancy do much harm, the one on which we are about to animadvert, might by his confiftency and perfeverance effect eflential good. — Even the fincere, and to all appearance, the eftabliihed chriflian, efpe- cially if his fituation in life be eafy, and his courfe fmooth and profperous, had need keep a vigilant eye upon his own heart. For fuch a one it will not be fufficient that he keep his ground if he do not advance in it. Indeed it will be a fure proof that he has gone back, if he has not advanced. . In a world fo befet with fnares, various are the caufes which may polfibly occafion in even good men a flow but certain decline in piety. A decline fcarcely perceptible at firfl:, but which becomes more vifible in its fubfequent ftages. When therefore we fuf- pe£t our hearts of any declenfion in piety, we fhould not compare ourfelves with what we were in the preceding week or month, but I 16 CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS but with what we were at the fuppofed height of our character. Though the alte^ ration was not perceptible in its gradual pro- grefs, one fhade melting into the next, and each lofmg its didhndnefs, yet when the two remote dates are brought into contrad, the change will be drikingly obvious. Among other caufes, may be affigned the indifcreet forming of fome worldly connec¬ tion ; efpecially that of marriage. In this connexion, for union it cannot be called, it is to be lamented that the irreligious more frequently draw away the religious to their fide, than that the contrary takes place; a circumdance eafily accounted for by thofe who are at all acquainted with the human heart. Or the fincere but incautious Chridian may be led by a drong affedlion which af- fumes the diape of virtue, into a fond defire of edablifhing his children advantageoufly in the world, into methods which if not abfo- lutely incorreft, are yet ambiguous at the bed. In order to raife thofe whom he loves to CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. IX 7 to a flation above their level, he may be tempted, while felf-deceit will teach him to fan&ify the deed by the motive, to make fome little facrifices of principle, fome little abatements of that flri£t rectitude, for which, in the abftra£l, no man would more ftre- nuoufly contend. And as it may be in ge¬ neral obferved, that the moil amiable minds are moil fufceptible of the ilrongeil natural affe&ions; of courfe the very tendernefs of the heart lays fuch chara&ers peculiarly open to a danger to which the unfeeling and the obdurate are lefs expofed. If the perfon in queilion be of the facred order, no fmall danger may arife from his living under the eye of an irreligious, but rich and bountiful patron. It is his duty to make religion appear amiable in his eyes. He ought to conciliate his good will by every means which rectitude can fan£lion. But though his very piety will flimulate his difcre- tion in the adoption of thofe means, he will take care never to let his difcretion intrench on his integrity. * If Il8 CHRISTIAN' WATCHFULNESS. If he be under obligations to him, he may be in danger of teflifying his gratitude, and furthering his hopes, by fome electioneering manoeuvres, and by too much electioneering fociety. He may, unawares, be tempted to too much conformity to his friend’s habits, to too much conviviality in his fociety. And when he witnelfes fo much kindnefs and urbanity in his manners, poffibly fo much ufefulnefs and benevolence in his life, he may be even tempted to fufpeCt that he him- felf may be wrong; to accufe himfelf of being fomewhat churlifli in his own temper, a little too auftere in his habits, and rather hard in his judgment of a man fo amiable. He will be ftill more likely to fall into this error if he expeCts a favour than if he has obtained it; for though it is not greatly to the honour of human nature, we daily fee how much keener are the feelings which are excited by hope than thofe which are raifed by gratitude. The favour which has been already conferred excites a temperate, that which we are looking for, a fervid feeling. Thefe CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. Jig Thefe relaxing feelings and thefe foftened difpofitions, aided by the feducing luxury of the table, and the bewitching fplendor of the apartment, by the foft accommodations which opulence exhibits, and the defires which they are too apt to awaken in the de¬ pendent, may, not impoffibly, lead by de¬ grees to a criminal timidity in maintaining the purity of his own principles, in fupport- ing the flrictnefs of his own practice. He may gradually lofe fomewhat of the dignity of his profeffional, and of the fobriety of his chriftian character. He may be brought to forfeit the independence of his mind ; and in order to magnify his fortune, may neg¬ lect to magnify his office. Even here, from an increafing remiffiiefs in felf-examination, he may deceive himfelf by perfifting to believe — for the films are now grown thicker over his fpiritual fight — that his motives are defenfible. Were not his difcernment labouring under a temporary blindnefs, he would reprobate the character which interefled views have infenfibly drawn him 120 CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. him in to ad. He would be as much afto- nifhed to be told that this charader was be¬ come his own, as was the Royal Offender, when the righteous boldnefs of the Prophet pronounced the heart-appalling words — “ Thou art the man.” Still he continues to flatter himfelf that the reafon of his diminifhed oppofltion to the faults of his friend, is not becaufe he has a more lucrative fituation in view, but becaufe he may by a flight temporary conceflion, and a fhort fufpenfion of a feverity which he be¬ gins to fancy he has carried too far, fecure for his future life a more extenfive field of ufefulnefs, in the benefice which is hanging over his head. In the mean time, hope and expedation io fill his mind that he infenfibly grows cold in the profecution of his pofitive duties. He begins to lament that in his prefent fxtua- iion he can make but few converts, that he ...... V » * fees but fmall effeds of his labours ; not perceiving that God may have withdrawn his bleffmg from a miniftry which is exer- cifed CHRISTIAN - WATCHFULNESS. 121 eifed on fuch queftionable grounds. With his new expectations he continues to blend his old ideas. He feafls his imagination with the profpeCt of a more fruitful harveft on an unknown, and perhaps an unbroken foil — as if human nature were not pretty much the fame every where; as if the la¬ bourer were accountable for the abundance of his crop, and not folely for his own alii- duity — as if aCtual duty faithfully perform¬ ed, even in that circumfcribed fphere in which God has call our lot, is not more ac¬ ceptable to him, than theories of the mod extenfive good, than diflant fpeculations and improbable projects, for the benefit even of a whole diftriCl; while, in the indulgence of thofe airy fchemes, our own fpecific and appointed work lies negleCled, or is perform¬ ed without energy and without attention. Self-love fo naturally infatuates the judg¬ ment, that it is no paradox to affert that we look too far, and yet do not look far enough. We look too far when pafTmg over the ac¬ tual duties of the immediate fcene, we form vol. ii. g long 122 CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. long connected trains of future projects, and indulge our thoughts in fuch as are mod remote, and perhaps lead probable. And we do not look far enough when the profpec- tive mind does not lhoot beyond all thefe little earthly didances, to that date, falfely called remote, whither all our deps are not the lefs tending, becaufe our eyes are con¬ fined to the home fcenes. But while the precarioufnefs of our duration ought to fet limits to our dedgns, it fhould furnifh in¬ citements to our application. Didant pro¬ jects are too apt to flacken prefent indudry, v/hile the magnitude of fchemes, probably impracticable, may render our aCtual exer¬ tions cold and duggifh. Let it be obferved that we would be the lad to cenfure any of thofe fair and honor¬ able means of improving his condition, which every man, be he worldly or religious, owes to himfelf, and to his family. Saints as well as Tinners have in common, what a great genius calls, “ certain inconvenient appetites of eating and drinking,” which while CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. 1 23 while we are in the body muft be complied with. It would be a great hardfhip on good men to be denied any innocent means of fair gratification. It would be a peculiar injuf. tice that the mod diligent labourer fhould be efteemed the leafl worthy of his hire, the lead; fit to rife in his profeflion. The more ferious Clergyman has alfo the fame warm affection for his children with his lefs fcrupulous brother, and confequently the fame laudable defire for their comfort¬ able edablifhment; only in his plans for their advancement he fhould neither enter¬ tain ambitious views, nor profecute any views, even the bed, by methods not confo- nant to the dri&nefs of his avowed princi¬ ples. Profefling to “ feek firfl the Kingdom of God and his righteoufnefs,” he ought to be more exempt from an over-anxious folici- tude than thofe who profefs it lefs zealoufly. Avov/ing a more determined confidence that all other things will, as far as they are abfo- lutely neceflary, u be added unto him,” he fhould, as it is obvious he commonly does, g 2 manifefl 124 CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. manifeft pra£lically, a more implicit trufl, confiding in that gracious and cheering pro- mife, that promife expreffed both negatively and pofitively, as if to comfort by a double confirmation, that God who is “both his light and defence, who will give grace and worfhip, will alfo withhold no good thing from them that live a godly life. ,, It is one of the trials of faith appended to •the facred office, that its miniflers, like the father of the faithful, are liable to go out, “ not knowing whither they go ;” and this not only at their fir ft entrance into their profeffion but throughout life ; an inconve¬ nience to which no other profeffion is necef- farily liable ; a trial which is not perhaps fairly eflimated. This remark will naturally raife a laugh among thofe who, at once hold the function in contempt, deride its miniflers, and think their well-earned remuneration lavifhly and even unneceffarily bellowed. They will probably exclaim with as much complacency in their ridicule, as if it were really the tefl of CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. I 25 of truth — “ A great caufe of commiferation truly, to be transferred from a flarving cu¬ racy to a plentiful benefice, or from the vul¬ gar fociety of a country Parifh, to be a flailed Theologian in an opulent Town !” — We are far from eflimating at a low rate the exchange from a flate of uncertainty to a flate of independence, from a life of penury to comfort, or from a barely decent to an affluent provifion. — But does the ironical remarker rate the feelings and affeXions of the heart at nothing ? If he infills that money is that chief good of which ancient philofophy fays fo much, we beg leave to in¬ fill that it is not the only good. We are above the affeXation of pretending to con¬ dole with any man on his exaltation, but there are feelings which a man of acute fenfi- bility, rendered more acute by an elegant education,. values more intimately than fil- ver or gold. Is it abfolutely nothing to refign his local comforts, to break up his local attachments, to have new connexions to form, and that G 3 frequently I 26 CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. frequently at an advanced period of life? Connections, perhaps lefs valuable than thofe he is quitting ? Is it nothing for a faithful Minifter to be feparated from an affectionate people, a people not only whofe friendffiip but whofe progrefs has conftituted his hap- pinefs here, as it will make his joy and crown of rejoicing hereafter ? Men of delicate minds eftimate things by their affections as well as by their circum- ftances; to a man of a certain caff of cha. raCter, a change however advantageous, may be rather an exile than a promotion. While he gratefully accepts the good, he receives it with an edifying acknowlegement of the imperfection of the belt human things. Thefe conftderations we confefs add the ad¬ ditional feelings of kindnefs to their perfons,, and of fympathy with their viciffitudes, to our refped and veneration for their holy office. To themfelves, however, the precarious tenure of their fituation prefents an inftruc- tive emblem of the uncertain condition of human CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. 12J human life, of the tranfitory nature of the world itfelf. Their liablenefs to a fudden removal gives them the advantage of being more efpecially reminded of the neceffity and duty of keeping in a continual poflure of preparation, having cc their loins girded, their {hoes on their feet, and their Itaff in their hand.” They have alfo the fame pro- mifes which fupported the Ifraelites in the defart. — The fame affurance which cheered Abraham, may {fill cheer the true fervants of God under all difficulties. —* u Fear not — I am thy fhield and thy exceeding great reward.” But there are perils on the right hand and on the left. It is not among the leaft, that though a pious Clergyman may at firft have tailed with trembling caution of the delicious cup of applaufe, he may gradually grow, as thirll is increafed by indulgence, to drink too deeply of the enchanted chalice. The dangers arifing from any thing that is good, are formidable, becaufe unfufpe£ted. And fuch are the perils of popularity that we will g 4 venture X2& CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS* venture to fay that the victorious General, who has conquered a kingdom, or the faga- cious Statefman who has preferved it, is al- mo(t in lefs danger of being fpoilt by accla¬ mation than the popular Preacher ; becaufe their danger is likely to happen but once, his is perpetual. Theirs is only on a day of triumph, his day of triumph occurs every week y we mean the admiration he excites. Every frefh fuccefs ought to be a frefh mo¬ tive to humiliation ; he who feels his danger will vigilantly guard againfl fwallowing too greedily the indifcriminate, and often undif- tinguifhing plaudits which his doCtrines or his manner, his talents or his voice, may equally procure for him. If he be not prudent as well as pious, he may be brought to humour his audience, and his audience to flatter him with a dange¬ rous emulation, till they will fcarcely endure truth itfelf from any other lips. Nay he may imperceptibly be led not to be always fatisfied with the attention and improvement of his hearers, uniefs the attention be fweet- ened CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. I 29 ened by flattery, and the improvement fol¬ lowed by exclufive attachment. This fpirit of exclufive fondnefs generates a fpirit of controverfy. Some of the fol¬ lowers will rather improve in cafuiftry than in Chriftianity. They will be more bufied in oppofing Paul to Apollos, than looking unto u Jefus, the author and finifher of their faiththan in bringing forth fruits meet for repentance. Religious goflip may af- fume the place of religion itfelf. A party fpirit is thus generated, and Chriftianity may begin to be confidered as a thing to be dif- cufled and difputed, to be heard and talked about, rather than as the productive principle of virtuous conduCt*. We owe, indeed, lively gratitude and af¬ fectionate attachment to the Minifter who has faithfully laboured for our edification ; but the Author has fometimes noticed a * This polemic tattle is of a totally different cha¬ racter from that fpecies of religious converfation re¬ commended in the preceding Chapter. G 5 manner I30 CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS. manner adopted by fome injudicious adhe¬ rents, efpecially of her own fex, which feems rather to erect their favourite into the head of a fe£t, than to reverence him as the pallor of a flock. This mode of evincing an attachment, amiable in itfelf, is doubtlefs as > - . diftrefling to the delicacy of the Minifter as it is unfavourable to religion, to which it is apt to give an air of party. May we be allowed to animadvert more immediately on the caufe of declenfion in piety in fome perfons who formerly exhibit¬ ed evident marks of that ferioufnefs in their lives which they continue to inculcate from the Pulpit. If fuch has been fometimes (we hope it has been very rarely) the cafe, may it not be partly afcribed to an unhappy notion that the fame exa&nefs in his private devo¬ tion, the fame watchfulnefs in his daily con¬ duct, is not equally neceffary in the advanc¬ ed progrefs as in the firfl ftages of a religious courfe ? Pie does not defift from warning his hearers of the continual neceflity of thefe things, but is he not in fome danger of not applying CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS* I31 applying the neceffity to himfelf? May he not begin to reft fatisfied with the inculca- tion without the practice ? It is not proba¬ ble indeed that he goes fo far as to eftablifh himfelf as an exempt cafe, but he Aides from indolence into the exemption, as if its avoidance were not fo neceffary for him as for others. Even the very facrednefs of his profeffion is not without a fnare. He may repeat the holy offices fo often that he may be in danger on the one hand, of finking into the notion that it is a mere profeffion, or on the other, of fo refting in it as to make it fupercede the neceffity of that ftri * in STERNAL THINGS. '63 in a proper fpirit, with due moderation, and in the fear of God. To have a lawful em¬ ployment, and to purfue it with diligence, is not only right and honourable in itfelf, but is one of the belt prefervatives from temp¬ tation*. > When a man pleads in his favour, the di¬ ligence bufinefs demands, the felf-denying practices it impofes, the patience, the regu¬ larity, the indultry indifpenfable to its fuccefs, when he argues that thefe are habits of vir¬ tue, that they are a daily difcipline to the moral man, and that the world could not fubfifl without bulinefs, he argues juftly but when he forgets his interefts in the eter¬ nal world, when he negle&s to lay up a treafure in heaven, in order that he may augment a llore which he does not want, * That accurate judge of human life. Dr. Johnfon, has often been heard by the writer of thefe pages to obferve, that it was the greateft misfortune which could befal a man to have been bred to no profeffion, and pathetically to regret that this misfortune was his and. own. INSENSIBILITY TO 164 and, perhaps, does not intend to ufe, or ufes to purpofes merely feeular, he is a bad cal¬ culator of the relative value of things. Bufinefs has an honourable afped as being oppofed to idlenefs, the mod hopelefs offspring of the whole progeny of fin* The man of bufinefs comparing himfelf with the man of diflipation, feels a fair and natural confdoufnefs of his own value, and of the fuperiority of his own purfuits. But it is by comparifon that we deceive ourfelves to our ruin. Bufinefs, whether profeflional, commercial, or political, endangers minds of a better caft, minds which look down on pleafure as beneath a thinking being. But if bufinefs abforb the affedions, if it fwallow up time, to the negled of eternity; if it generate a worldly fpirit \ if it cherifh cove- toufnefs; if it engage the mind in long views, and ambitious purfuits, it may be as danger¬ ous, as its more inconfiderate and frivolous rival. The grand evil of both lies in the alienation of the heart from God. Nay, in one refped, the danger is greater to him who is ETERNAL THINGS. 16$ Is the beft employed. The man ofpleafure, however thoughtlefs, can never make him- felf believe that he is doing right. The man plunged in the ferious bultle of bufinefs, cannot eafily perfuade himfelf that he may be doing wrong. Commutation, compenfation, and fub- ftitution, are the grand engines which worldly religion inceffantly keeps in play. Her’s is a life of barter, a ftate of fpi- ritual traffic, fo much indulgence for ft> many good works. The implication is, “ we have a rigorous matter,” and it is but fair to indemnify ourfelves for the feverity of his requations ; juft as an overworked fervant fteals a holiday. “ Thefe perfons,” fays an eminent writer*, “ maintain a meum and tuum with heaven itfelf.” They fet bounds to God’s prerogative, left it Ihould too much encroach on man’s pri¬ vilege. We * The learned and pious John Smith. INSENSIBILITY TO 1 66 We have elfewhere obferved, that if we invite people to embrace religion on the mere mercenary ground of prefent pleafure, they will defert it as foon as they find them¬ felves difappointed. Men are too ready to clamour for the pleafures of piety, before they have, I dare not fay, entitled themfelves to them, but put themfelves into the way of receiving them. We fhould be angry at that fervant, who made the receiving of his wages a preliminary to the performance of his work. This is not meant to eftablifh the merit of works, but the neceflity of our feeking, that transforming and purifying change which characterizes the real Chrif- tian ; inftead of complaining that we do not poffefs thofe confolations, which can be con- fequent only on fuch a mutation of the mind. But if men confider this world on the true fcripture ground, as a date of proba¬ tion ; if they confider religion as a fchool for happinefs indeed, but of which the con- fummation is only to be enjoyed in heaven, the ETERNAL THINGS. 167 the Chridian hope will fupport them ; the Chridian faith will drengthen them. They will ferve diligently, wait patiently, love cor¬ dially, obey faithfully, and be dedfad under all trials, fudained by the cheering promife held out to him “ who endures to the end.” There are certain chara&ers who feem to have a graduated fcale of vices. Of this fcale they keep clear of the lowed degrees, and to rife above the highed they are not ambitious, forgetful that the fame principle which operates in the greater, operates alfo in the lefs. A life of inceffant gratification does not alarm the confcience, yet it is equally unfavourable to religion, equally ffedru&ive of its principle, equally oppofite to its fpirit, with more obvious vices. Thefe are the habits which, by relaxing the mind and dilfolving the heart, particularly foder indifference to our fpiritual date and infenfibility to the things of eternity. A life of voluptuoufnefs, if it be not a life of adhial fin, is a difqualification for holinefs, for hap- ; pinefs, for heaven. It not only alienates , the INSENSIBILITY TCT 168 the heart from God, but lays it open to every temptation to which natural temper may invite, or incidental circumdances al¬ lure. The word paflions lie dormant in hearts given up to felfifh indulgences, al¬ ways ready to dart into a&ion as occafion calls. Voluptuoufnefs and irreligion play into each other’s hands: they are reciprocally caufe and effedh The loofenefs of the principle confirms the careleffnefs of the conduct, while the negligent conduct in its own vindication fhelters itfelf under the fuppofed fecurity of unbelief. The indance of the rich Man in the Parable of Lazarus* drikingly illudrates this truth. Whoever doubts that a life of fenfuality is confident with the mod unfeeling barba¬ rity to the wants and bufferings of others ; whoever doubts that boundlefs expence and magnificence, the means of procuring which were wrung from the robbery and murder of a lacerated world, may not be affociated with that robbery and murder, — let him turn ETERNAL THINGS# 169 turn to the gorgeous fedivides and unpar- ralleled pageantries of Verfailles and Saint Cloud. — There the imperial Harlequin, from acting the deeped and the longed Tra¬ gedy that ever drew tears of blood from an audience compofed of the whole civilized Globe, by a hidden droke of his magic wand, fhifts the fcene to the mod prepof- terous Pantomime: — Where moody madnefs laughing wild Amid ft fevered woe, * .. ■ •: ^ • j gloomily contemplates the incongruous fpec- tacle, fees the records of the Tyburn Chro¬ nicle embellifhed with the wanton fplendours of the Arabian tales ; beholds Perverfe, all monftrous, all prodigious things ; beholds Tyranny with his painted vizor of patriotidn, and Polygamy with her Janus face of political confcience and counterfeit affection, fill the fore ground ; while fcep- tered parafites, and pinchbeck potentates, tricked out with the fl)ining fpoils of plum tol. 11. 1 dered INSENSIBILITY TO I70 dered empires, and decked with the pilfered crowns of depofed and exiled Monarchs, fill and empty the changing fcene, with u exits and with entrances,” as fleeting and unfub- ftantial as the progeny of Banquo ; — be¬ holds inventive but fruitlefs art, folicitoufly decorate the ample flage to conceal the ftains of blood — ftains as indelible as thofe which the ambitious wife of the irrefolute Thane vainly ftrove to w^afli from her polluted hands, while in her fleeping delirium fhe con¬ tinued to cry, • \ f w Still here’s the fmell of blood The perfumes of Arabia will not fweeten it. But to return to the general queftion. Let us not enquire whether thefe unfeeling tempers and felfifh habits offend fociety, and difcredit us with the world; but whether they feed our corruptions and put us in a pofture unfavourable to all interior improve¬ ment ; whether they offend God and endan¬ ger the foul; whether the gratification of felf is the life which the Redeemer taught or • - lived; ETERNAL THINGS. 1.71 lived; whether fenfuality is a fuitable prepa¬ ration for that (late where God himfelf, who is a fpirit, will conflitute all the happinefs of fpiritual beings. But thefe are not the only, perhaps not the greatefl dangers. The intelle&ual vices, the fpiritual offences, may deftroy the foul without much injuring the credit. Thefe have not, like voluptuoufnefs, their feafons of alternation and repofe. Here the prin¬ ciple is in continual operation. Envy has no interval. Ambition never cools. Pride never fleeps. The principle at leaft is al¬ ways awake. An intemperate man is fome- times fober, but a proud man is never humble. Where vanity reigns, fhe reigns always. Thefe interior fins are more diffi¬ cult of extirpation, they are lefs eafy of de¬ tection^ more hard to come at; and, as the Citadel fometimes holds out after the out¬ works are taken, thefe fms of the heart are the latefl conquered in the moral war¬ fare. 1 2 Here INSENSIBILITY TO 172 Here lies the didin&ion between the worldly and the religious man. It is alarm enough for the Chridian that he feels any propenfities to vice. Againd thefe propen- fities he watches, drives and prays: and though he is thankful for the victory when he has refilled the temptation, he can feel no elation of heart while confcious of inward difpofitions, which nothing but divine grace enables him to keep from breaking out into a flame. He feels that there is no way to obtain the pardon of fin but to leave off finning : He feels that though repentance is not a Saviour, yet that there can be no fal- vation where there is no repentance. Above f ■. . all, he knows that the promife of remiflion of fin by the death of Chrid is the only folid ground of comfort. However correal his prefent life may be, the weight of pall offen¬ ces would hang fo heavy on his confcience, that without the atoning blood of his Re¬ deemer, defpair of pardon for the pad would leave him hopelefs. He would continue to fin, ETERNAL THINGS. fin, as an extravagant Bankrupt, who can get no acquittal, would continue to be extra¬ vagant, becaufe no prefent frugality could redeem his former debts. It is fometimes pleaded that the labour at¬ tached to perfons in high public flations, and important employments, by leaving them no time, furnifhes a reafonable excufe for the omiffion of their religious duties. Thefe apologies are never offered for any fuch ne¬ glect in the poor man, though to him every day brings the inevitable return of his twelve hours’ labour without intermiflion and with¬ out mitigation. But furely the more important the flation, the higher and wider the fphere of adion, the more imperious is the call for religion, not only in the way of example, but even in the way of fuccefs; if it be indeed granted that there is fuch a thing as divine influences, if it be allowed that God has a blefling to bellow. If the ordinary man who has only himfelf to govern, requires that aid, how urgent is his neceflity who has to govern 13 • millions ? INSENSIBILITY TO *74 millions ? What an awful idea, could we even fuppofe it realized, that the weight of a nation might reft on the head of him whofe heart looks not up for a higher fupport 1 Were we alluding to Sovereigns, and not to Statefmen, we need not look beyond the Throne of Great Britain for the inftance of a Monarch who never made the cares attend¬ ant on a King an excufe for negle&ing hi& duty to the King of Kings. The Politician, the Warrior, and the Ora¬ tor, find it peculiarly hard to renounce in themfelves that wifdom and ftrength to which they believe that the reft of the world are looking up. The man of ftation or of genius, when invited to the felf-denying du¬ ties of Chriftianity, as well as he who has “great pofteffions,” goes away “forrowing/ 5 But to know that they muft end, ftamps vanity on all the glories of life ; to know that they muft end foon, ftamps infatuation, not only on him who faerifices his confcience for their acquifition, but on him who, though - _ ■ upright ETERNAL THINGS; m upright in the difcharge of his duties, dif- charges them without any reference to God. — Would the conqueror or the orator reflect when the u laurel crown is placed on his brow, how Toon it will be followed by the cyprefs wreath,” it would lower the deli¬ rium of ambition, it would cool the intoxi¬ cation of profperity. There is a general kind of belief in Ghrif- tianity, prevalent among men of the world, which, by foothing the confcience, prevents felf-enquiry. That the holy Scriptures con¬ tain the will of God they do not quedion j that they contain the bed fydem of morals they frequently afle?t: but they do- not feel the neceflity of acquiring a correct notion of the do6trines thofe fcriptures involve. The depravity of man, the atonement made by Chrid, the aflidance of the Holy Spirit — thefe they confider as the metaphyfical part of religion, into which it is not of much im¬ portance to enter, and by a fpecies of felf- flattery, they fatisfy themfelves with an idea of acceptablenefs with their Maker,,as a 14 date INSENSIBILITY TO I76 ffate to be attained without the humility* faith and newnefs of life which they re¬ quire, and which are indeed their proper concomitants. A man abforbed in a multitude of fecular concerns, decent but unawakened, liftens with a kind of refpe&ful infenfibiHty, to the overtures of religion. He confiders the Church as venerable from her antiquity, and important from her connexion with the ffate. No one is more alive to her political, nor more dead to her fpiritual importance. He is anxious for her exiftence, but indiffe¬ rent to her doctrines. Thefe he confiders as a general matter in which he has no indi¬ vidual concern. He confiders religious ob- fervances as fomething decorous but unreal 5 as a grave cuftom made refpeftable by pub¬ lic ufage, and long prefcription. He admits that the poor who have little to enjoy, and the idle who have little to do, cannot do better than make over to God that time which cannot be turned to a more profitable account. Religion, he thinks, may properly enough. ETERNAL THINGS* 1 77 enough employ leifure, and occupy old age. But though both advance towards himfelf with no imperceptible flep, he is dill at a iofs to determine the precife period when the leifure is fufficient, or the age enough advanced. It recedes as the deflined fea- fon approaches. He continues to intend moving, but he continues to (land Hill. Compare his drowfy fabbaths with the i animation of the days of bufinefs, you would not think it was the fame man. The one are to be got over, the others are enjoyed. He goes from the dull decencies, the Iha- dowy forms, for fuch they are to him, of public worfhip, to the folid realities of his worldly concerns, to the cheerful activities of fecular life. Thefe he confiders as bounden, almofl as exclufive duties. The others indeed may not be wrong, but thefe he is fure are right. The world is his ele¬ ment. Here he breathes freely his native air. Here he is fubftantially engaged. Here his whole mind is alive, his underftanding broad awake, ail his energies are in full play j i 5 his INSENSIBILITY TO 178 his mind is all alacrity; his faculties are employed, his capacities are filled ; here they have an objeQ: worthy of their wideft expanfion. Here his defires and affections are abforbed. The faint impreffion of the Sunday’s Sermon fades away, to be as faintly revived on the Sunday following, again to fade in the fucceeding week. To the Ser¬ mon he brings a formal ceremonious atten¬ dance ; to the world he brings all his heart and foul, and mind, and ilrength. To the one he reforts in conformity to law and cuf- tom ; to induce him to refort to the other, he wants no law, no fandtion, no invitation, no argument. His will is of the party. His paflions are volunteers. The invifible things of heaven are clouded in fhadow, are loft in diftance. The world is lord of the afcen- dant. Riches, honours, power, fill his mind with brilliant images. They are prefent, they are certain, they are tangible. They affurne form and bulk. In thefe therefore he cannot be miftakenin the others he may. The eagernefs of competition, the « i 4 ftruggle ETERNAL THINGS. 179 firuggle for fuperiority, the perturbations of ambition, fill his mind with an emotion,, his foul with an agitation, his affections with an intereft, which, though very unlike hap- pinefs, he yet flatters himfelf is the road to it. This factitious pleafure, this tumultuous feeling produces at leafl: that negative fatis- faCtion of which he is conffantly in fearch — it keeps him from himfelf. Even in circumftances where there is no fuccefs to prefent a very tempting bait, the mere occupation, the croud of objeCts, the fucceflion of engagements, the mingling purfuits, the very tumult and hurry have their gratifications. The buttle gives falfe peace by leaving no leifure for reflexion. He lays his confcience afleep with the “ flattering UnCtion” of good intentions. He comforts himfelf with the creditable pre¬ tence of want of time, and the vague refo- lution of giving up to God the dregs of that life, of the vigorous feafon of which he thinks the world more worthy. Thus commuting with his Maker, life wears away, its clofe i 6 * draws INSENSIBILITY TO l8o draws near — and even the poor commuta¬ tion which was promifed is not made. The affigned hour of retreat either never arrives, or if it does arrive, doth and fenfuality are reforted to, as the fair reward of a life of labour and anxiety 5 and whether he dies in the protracted purfuit of wealth, or in the enjoyment of the luxuries it has earned, he dies in the trammels of the world. If we do not cordially delire to be deli¬ vered from the dominion of thefe worldly tempers, it is becaufe we do not believe in the condemnation annexed to their indul¬ gence. We may indeed believe it as we be¬ lieve any other general proportion, or any indifferent fa£t; but not as a truth in which we have a perfonal concern ; not as a danger which has any reference to us. We evince this practical unbelief in the mo ft unequivocal way, by thinking fo much more about the moil frivolous concern in which we are af- fured we have an interefl, than about this mod important of all concerns. Indifference ETERNAL THINGS. 18l Indifference to eternal things inftead of tranquillizing the mind, as it profeffes to' do, is, when a thoughtful moment occurs, a frelli fubjeft of uneahnefs ; becaufe it adds to our peril the horror of not knowing it. If {hutting our eyes to a danger would prevent it, to Ihut them would not only be a happi- nefs but a duty; but to barter eternal fafety for momentary eafe, is a wretched compro- mife. To produce this delufion, mere :n- confideration is as efficient a caufe as the mod prominent fin. The reafon why we do not value eternal things is becaufe we do not think of them. The mind is fo full of what is prefent, that it has no room to admit a thought of what is to come. Not only we do not give that attention to a never dying foul which prudent men give to a common tranfa&ion, but we do not even think it worth the care which inconfiderate men give to an inconfiderable one. We com¬ plain that life is ffiort, and yet throw away the beft part of it, only making over to re¬ ligion that portion which is good for nothing elfe; INSENSIBILITY TO lS2 elfe; life would be long enough if we af- figned its bed period to its bed purpofe. Say not that the requifitions of religion are fevere, alk rather if they are neceffary. If a thing mud abfolutely be done, if eternal mifery will be incurred by not doing it, it is fruitlefs to enquire whether it be hard or eafy. Enquire only whether it be indifpen- fable, whether it be commanded, whether it be practicable* It is a well known axiom in Science that difficulties are of no weight againd demondrations. The duty on which our eternal date depends, is not a thing to be debated but done. The duty which is too imperative to be evaded, too important to be negleCted, is not to be argued about but performed. To fin on quietly, becaufe you do not intend to fm always, is to Jive on a reverfion which will probably never be yours. It is folly to fay that Religion drives men to defpair ; when it only teaches them by a falutary fear to avoid deftruCtion. The fear of God differs from all other fear, for it is v • accompanied ETERNAL THINGS. 183 accompanied with truft, and confidence, and love. “ Bleffed is the man that feareth al- way” is no paradox to him who entertains this holy fear. It fets him above the fear of ordinary troubles. It fills his heart. He is not difcompofed with thofe inferior appre- henfions which unfettle the foul and unhinge the peace of worldly men. His mind is occupied with one grand concern, and is therefore lefs liable to be fhaken than little minds which are filled with little things. Can that principle lead to defpair which pro¬ claims the mercy of God in Chrifl Jefus to be greater than all the fins of all the men in the world? - v If defpair then prevent your return, add not to your lift of offences that of doubting of the forgivenefs which is fincerely implor¬ ed. You have already wronged God in his holinefs, wrong him not in his mercy. You may offend him more by defpairing of his pardon than by all the fins which have made that pardon neceffary. Repentance, if one may venture the bold remark, almofl difarms God INSENSIBILITY TO 184 God of the power to punifh. Hear his flyle and title as proclaimed by himfelf. — 66 The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long fuffering, and abundant in goodnefs and truth, keeping mercy for thoufands, forgiving iniquity, tranfgreflion and fin, and that will by no means clear the guilty’’ — that is, thofe who by unrepented guilt ex¬ clude themfelves from the offered mercy. If infidelity or indifference, which is practical infidelity, keep you back, yet, as reafonable beings afk yourfelves a few fhort queflions, “ for what end was I fent into the world ? Is my foul immortal ? Am I really placed here in a date of trial, or is this fpan my all ? Is there an eternal date ? If there be, will the ufe I make of this life decide on my condition in that ? I know that there is death, but is there a judg¬ ment ?”— Reft not till you have cleared up, I do not fay your own evidences for heaven ; — You have much to do before you arive at that ftage — but whether there be any heaven ? ETERNAL THINGS. heaven? Afk yourfelf whether Chriflianity is not important enough to deferve being enquired into ? Whether eternal life is not too valuable to be entirely overlooked ? Whether eternal deflrudtion, if a reality, is not worth avoiding? — If you make thefe interrogations fineerely you will make them practically. — They will lead you to exarpine your own perfonal interefl in thefe things. Evils which are ruining us for want of at¬ tention to them, leffen, from the moment our attention to them begins. True or falfe the queftion is worth fettling. Vibrate then no longer between doubt and certainty. If the evidence be inadmiffible, reject it. But if you can once afcertain thefe cardinal points, then throw away your time if you cariy then trifle with eternity if you dare ■*. V < It * An awakening call to public and individual feel¬ ings has been recently made by an obfervation of an eloquent fpeaker in the houfe of Commons. He re¬ marked that himfelf and the honourable Member for Yorklhire, 1 86 INSENSIBILITY TO It is one of the linking characters of the Omnipotent that “he is flrong and patient.” It is a Handing evidence of his patience that “ he is provoked every day.” How beauti¬ fully do thefe characters refleCt luftre on each other. If he were not ftrong, his pa¬ tience would want its diftinguifhing perfec¬ tion. If he were not patient, his ftrength would inftantly crulh thofe who provoke him, not fometimes but often; not every year, but “ every day.’’ Oh you, who have a longer fpace given you for repentance, confefs that the for¬ bearance of God, when viewed as coupled Yorkfhire, then fitting on a Committee appointed on occafion of a great national calamity, were the only furviving Members of the Committee on a fimilar oc¬ cafion twenty-two years ago l The call is the mor§ alarming, becaufe the mortality did not arife from fome extraordinary caufe which might not again occur, but was in the common courfe of human things. Such a proportion of deaths is perpetually taking place, but the very frequency which ought to excite attention prevents it ; till it is thus forced on our notice. with ETERNAL THINGS. 187 with his ftrength, is his mod aftonifhing at¬ tribute ! Think of the companions of your early life; — if not your affociates in actual vice, if not your confederates in guilty plea- fures, yet the lharers of your thoughtlefs meetings, of your convivial revelry, of your worldly fchemes, of your ambitious projects, — think how many of them have been cut off, perhaps without warning, probably without repentance. They have been pre- fented to their Judge: their doom, whatever it be, is irreverfibly fixed ; yours is merci¬ fully fufpended. Adore the mercy: em¬ brace the fufpenfion. Only fuppofe if they could be permitted to come back to this world, if they could be allowed another period of trial, how would they fpend their reflored life! How cordial would be their penitence, how intenfe their devotion, how profound their humility, how holy their actions! Think then that you have {till in your power that for which they would give millions of worlds. u Hell ” fays a pious writer* “ is truth feen too late,” In I 88 ' INSENSIBILITY TO In almoft every mind there fometimes float indefinite and general purpofes of re¬ pentance. The operation of thefe purpofes is often repelled by a real though difavowed fcepticifm. “ Becaufe fentence is not exe¬ cuted fpeedily,” they fufpe£t it has never been pronounced. They therefore think they may fafely continue to defer their in¬ tended but unfhapen purpofe. — Though they fometimes vifit the flick beds of others, though they fee how much difeafe difqualifies for all duties, yet to this period of incapacity, to this moment of disqualification, do they continue to defer this tremendoufly impor¬ tant concern. What an image of the divine condefcen- fion does it convey, that “ the goodnefs of God leadeth to repentance It does not barely invite, but it conducts. Every warn¬ ing is more or lefs an invitation ; every vifi- tation is a lighter ftroke to avert a heavier blow. This was the way in which the heathen world underflood portents and prodigies, and on this interpretation of them they ETERNAL THINGS. 189 they a&ed. Any alarming warning, whe¬ ther rational or fuperflitious, drove them to their temples, their facrifices, their expia¬ tions. Does our clearer light always carry us farther ? Does it, in thefe inflances, al¬ ways carry us as far as natural confcience carried them ? The final period of the worldly man at length arrives ; but he will not believe his danger. Even if he fearfully glance round for an intimation of it in every furrounding 4 face, every face, it is too probable, is in a league to deceive him. What a noble op* portunity is now offered to the Chriflian Phyfician to fhew a kindnefs as far fuperior to any he has ever fhewn, as the concerns of the foul are fuperior to thofe of the body 1 Oh let him not fear prudently to reveal a truth for which the patient may blefs him in eternity! Is it not fometimes to be feared that in the hope of prolonging for a little while the exiflence of the perifhing body, he robs the never-dying foul of its lafl chance of pardon ? Does not the concern for the immortal % I 9 O INSENSIBILITY TO immortal part united with his care of the afflicted body, bring the Medical Profelfor to a nearer imitation than any other fuppofeable fituation can do, of that divine Phyfician who never healed the one without manifeft- ing a tender concern for the other. But the deceit is fhort, is fruitlefs. The amazed fpirit is about to dillodge. Who ihall fpeak its terror and difmay ? Then he cries out in the bitternefs of his foul, “ what capacity has a difeafed man, what time has a dying man, what difpofition has a finful man to acquire good principles, to unlearn falfe notions, to renounce bad practices, to eftablifh right habits, to begin to love God, to begin to hate fin ? How is the ftupen- dous concern of falvation to be worked out by a mind incompetent to the moll ordinary concerns ? The infinite importance of what he has to do — the goading conviction that it mufl be done — the utter inability of doing it — the dreadful combination in his mind of both the neceffity and incapacity — the de- - fpair ETERNAL THINGS. I 9 I fpair of crowding the concerns of an age into a moment — the impoflibility of beginning a repentance which fhould have been com¬ pleted — of fetting about a peace which fhould have been concluded — of fuing for a pardon which fhould have been obtained j —all thefe complicated concerns — with¬ out flrength, without time, without hope, with a clouded memory, a disjointed reafon, £ wounded fpirit, undefined terrors, remem¬ bered fins, anticipated punifhment, an angry God, an accufing confcience, all together, intolerably augment the fufferings of a body which (lands in little need of the infupport- able burthen of a diflra&ed mind to aggra¬ vate its torments. Though we pity the fuperflitious weaknefs of the German Emperor in acting over the anticipated folemnities of his own funeral; that eccentric a£t of penitence of a great but perverted mind ; it would be well if we were now and then to reprefent to our minds while in found health, the folemn certainties of a dying bed; if we were fometimes to image T «■ * • 4 • V ... CHAP. XIX. A ■ ^ j Happy Deaths. FEW circumftances contribute more fatally to confirm in worldly men that infeniibility to eternal things which was confidered in the precedingChapter, than the boaftful accounts we fometimes hear of the firm and heroic death-beds of popular but irreligious cha¬ racters. Manycaufes contribute to 'thefe happy deaths as they are called. The blind are bold, they do not fee the precipice they de- fpife.—Or perhaps there is lefs unwillingnefs to quit a world which has fo often difappoint- ed them, or which they have fucked to the lafi dregs. They leave life with lefs r el u fiance, feeling that they have exhaufted all its gra¬ tifications. —Or it is a difbelief of the reality j of tire date on which they are about to enter* —- Or it is a defire to be releafed from ex- ceffive pain, a defire ' naturally felt by thofe K2 *• who HAPPY DEATHS. 196 who calculate their gain, rather by what they are efcaping from, than by what they are to receive. — Or it is equability of temper, or firmnefs of nerve, or hardnefs of mind. — Or it is the arrogant wilh to make the lad aof life confirm its preceding pro- fefiions. — Or it is the vanity of perpetu¬ ating their philofophic chara&er. — Or if fome faint ray of light break in, it is the pride of not retracing the fentiments which from pride they have maintained : — the de¬ fire of pofthumous renown among their ow r n party ; the hope to make their difciples (land firm by their example; the ambition to give their laft pofiible blow to revelation — or perhaps the fear of exprefiing doubts which might beget a fufpicion that their difbelief was not fo fturdy as they would have it thought. Above all, may they not, as a punilhment for their long negleft of the warning voice of truth, be given up to a flrong delufion to believe the lie they have fo often propagated, and really to expeft to find in death that eternal lleep with which 3 they HAPPY DEATHS. I97 they have affeded to quiet their own con¬ fidences, and have really weakened the faith of others. Every new inftance is an additional but- trefs on which the fceptical fchool lean for fupport, and which they produce as a frefh triumph. With equal fatisfadion they cob led; ftories of infirmity, depreffion and want of courage in the dying hour of religious men, whom the nature of the difeafe, ti- ftioroufnefs of fpirit, profound humility, the fad remembrance of fin, though long re¬ pented of, and forgiven, a deep fenfe of the awfulnefs of meeting God in judgment; — whom fome or all of thefe caufes may oc- cafion to depart in trembling fear ; in whom, though heavinefs may endure through the night of death, yet joy cometh in the morn¬ ing of the refurredion. It is a maxim of the Civil Law that de¬ finitions are hazardous. And it cannot be denied that various defcriptions of perfons have hazarded much in their definitions of a happy death . A very able and juflly ad¬ it 3 mired happy deaths. .*98 mired writer ? who has diltinguiihed himfelf by the moil valuable works on political economy, has recorded, as proofs of the happy death of a no lefs celebrated contem¬ porary, that he chearfuLly amufed himfelf in his lafc hours with Lucian, a Game of Whist, and feme good humoured drollery upon Charon and his boat. But may we not venture to fay, with “ one of the People called Chriilians himfelf a Wit and a Philofopher, though of the School of Chrift, that the man who could meet dea.th in fuch a frame of mind might fmile over Babylon in ruins, efteem the Earthquake which deftroyed Lifbon an agreeable occurrence, and congratulate the hardened, Pharaoh on his overthrow in the Red Sea ?” This eminent Hiftorian and Philofopher, whofe great intelle&ual powers it is as impof- fible not to admire, as not to lament their un~ * The late excellent Bifliop Horne. See his Let¬ ters to Dr. Adam Smith. happy HAPPY DEATHS. 199 happy mifapplication, has been eulogifed by his friend, as coming nearer than almofl any other man, to the perfection of human- na¬ ture in his life; and has been almofl deified for the cool courage and heroic firmnefs with which he met death. His eloquent Pa- negyrifl, with as infidious an innuendo as has ever been thrown out againfl revealed re¬ ligion, goes on to obferve that, “ perhaps it “ is one of the very word: circumflances “ againfl Chriflianity, that very few of its “ profeffors were ever either fo moral, fo “ humane, or could fo philofophically go- “ vern their paflions, as the fceptical David “ Hume.” Yet notwithflanding this rich embalming of fo noble a compound of iC matter and motion,” we mud be permitted to doubt one of the two things prefented for our ad¬ miration ; we mufl either doubt the fo much .boafled happinefs of his death, or the fo much extolled humanity of his heart. We mufl be permitted to fufped the foundnefs of that benevolence which led him to devote K 4 his ICO HAPPY DEATHS. his lateft hours to prepare, under the label of an EJfay on Suicide, a potion for pofterity, of fo deleterious a quality, that'if taken by the patient, under all the circumftances, in which he undertakes to prove it innocent, might have gone near to effedt the extindtion of the whole human race. For if all rational beings, according to this pofthumous pre¬ scription, are at liberty to procure their own releafe from life 66 under pain or ficknefs, lhame or poverty/ 5 how large a portion of the world would be authorized to quit it uncalled ! For how many are fubjedt to the two latter grievances; from the two former how few are altogether exempt *! Another part of the Ej/ay on Suicide has this paflage. —“ Whenever pain or forrow fo far over- “ come my patience, as to make me tired of life, I “ may conclude that I am recalled from my ftation “ in the plained; and moil exprefs terms.” — And again — “ When I fall upon my own fword, I receive 44 my death equally from the hands of the Deity, as 44 if it had proceeded from a Lion, a precipice, or a 44 fever.” — And again — “Where is the crime of 44 turning a few ounces of blood from their natural “ channel ?” The HAPPY DEATHS. 201 The energy of that ambition which could concentrate the laft efforts of a powerful mind, the laft exertions of a fpirit greedy of fame, into a project, not only for deftroying the fouls, but for abridging the lives of his fellow-creatures, leaves at a difgraceful dis¬ tance the inverted thirft of glory of the man, who, to immortalize his own name, fet fire to the Temple at Ephefus. Such a burning zeal to annihilate the eternal hope of his fellow-creatures might be philofophy; but furely to authorize them to curtail their mortal exigence, which to the infidel who looks for no other, muff be invaluable, was not philanthropy. > But if this death was thought worthy of being blazoned to the public eye in all the warm and glowing colours with which affec¬ tion decorates panegyric, the difciples of the fame fchool have been in general anxioufly folicitous to produce only the more creditable inflances of invincible hardnefs of heart, while they have laboured to cafl an impenetrable veil over the clofing fcene of thofe among the , ■ , . K5 lefs HAPPY DEATHS. 3 02 lefs inflexible of the fraternity, who have exhibited in their departing moments, any fymptoms of doubt, any indications of dif- truft, refpe&ing the validity of their prin¬ ciples : — Principles which they had long maintained with fo much zeal, and dilfemi- nated with fo much indullry* In fpite of the fedulous anxiety of his Sa¬ tellites to conceal the clouded fetting of the great luminary of modern infidelity, from which fo many minor liars have filled their little urns, and then fet up for original lights themfelves; in fpite of the pains taken— for we mull drop metaphor — to Ihroud from all eyes except thofe of the initiated, the terror and difmay with which thePhilofopher of Geneva met death, met his fummons to appear before that God whofe providence he had ridiculed, that Saviour whofe character and offices he had vilified, — the fecret was betrayed. In fpite of the precautions taken by his alfociates to bury in congenial dark- nefs the agonies which in his laft hours con- tradifled the audacious blafphemies of a la¬ borious i HAPPY DEATHS. 203 •borious life fpent in their propagation, at laft like his great inftigator, he believed and trembled . > > < < . Whatever the fage of Ferney might be in the eyes of Journalifts, of Academicians, of Encyclopoedifts, of the Royal Author of Ber¬ lin, of Revolutionifts in the egg of his own hatching, of full grown infidels of his own fpawning; of a world into which he had been for more than half a century induftri- oufly infufing a venom, the effe&s of which will be long felt, the expiring philpfopher was no objed of veneration to his nurse. —> She could have recorded u a tale to harrow up the foul,” the horrors of which were fe- duloufly attempted to be configned to ob¬ livion. But for this woman and a few other unbribed witnefles, his friends would pro¬ bably have endeavored to edify the world with this addition to the brilliant catalogue of happy deaths *. It * It is a well attefted fa& that this woman, after his deceafe, being lent for to attend another perfon in k 6 dying 204 HAPPY DEATHS. It has been a not uncommon opinion that the works of an able and truly pious Chrif- tian, by their happy tendency to awaken the carelefs and to convince the unbelieving, may, even for ages after the excellent .Author is entered into his eternal reft, by the acceflion of new Converts which they bring to Chriftianity, continue to add in¬ dying circumftances, anxioufly enquired if the patient was a Gentleman, for that fhe had recently been fo dreadfully terrified in witnefiing the dying horrors of Monf. de Voltaire, which furpaffed all defcriptiorr, that fhe had refolved never to attend any other perfon of that fex unlefs fhe could be allured that he was not a philofopher. — Voltaire indeed as he was deficient in the moral honefty and the#ther good qualities which obtained for Mr. Hume the affection of his friends, wanted his fincerity. Of all his other vices hypocrify was the confummation. While he daily difhonored the Redeemer by the invention of unheard of blaf- phemies; after he had bound himfelf by a folemn pledge never to reft till he had exterminated his very name from the face of the earth, he was not afhamed to aifii'l regularly at the awful commemoration of his death at the Altar! creafing HAPPY DEATHS. .205 creaflng brightnefs to the crown of the al¬ ready glorified faint. — If this be true, how ihall imagination prefume to conceive, much lefs how fhall language exprefs, what mu ft be expelled in the contrary cafe ? How fhall we dare turn our thoughts to the progreflive torments which may be ever heaping on the heads of thofe unhappy men of genius, who having devoted their rare talents to promote vice and infidelity, continue with fatal fuc- cefs to make fucceflive profelytes through fucceflive ages, if their works laft fo long, and thus accumulate on themfelves anguifh ever growing, miferies ever multiplying, without hope of any mitigation, without hope of any end. A more recent inftance of the temper and fpirit which the College of Infidelity exhibits on thefe occafions is perhaps lefs generally known. A perfon of our own time and country, of high rank and talents, and who ably filled a great public fituation, had un¬ happily, in early life, imbibed principles and habits analogous to thofe of a noto- rioufly HAPPY DEATHS. 2 o6 rioufly profligate fociety of which he was a member, a fociety, of which the very appellation it delighted to diftinguilh itfelf by, is Offence and torture to the fober ear. In the near view of death, at an advanced age, deep remorfe and terror took pofleflion of his foul; but he had no friend about him to whom he could communicate the flate of his mind, or from whom he could derive either counfel or confolation. ' One day in the abfence of his attendants, he raifed his exhaufted body on his dying bed, and threw himfelf on the floor, where he was found in great agony of fpirit, with a prayer book in his hand. This detection was at once a 1 fubjeft for ridicule and regret to his col¬ leagues, and he was contemptuoufly fpoken of as a pufillanimous deferter from the good taufe . The phrafe ufed by them to exprefs their difpleafure at his apoftacy is too offen- five to find a place here*. Were we called » v * The writer had this anecdote from an acquain¬ tance of the noble perfon at the time of his death. upon HAPPY DEATHS. 20/ upon to decide between rival horrors, we fhould feel no hefitation in pronouncing this death a lefs unhappy one than thofe to which we have before alluded. Another well known fceptic, while in per¬ fect health, took meafuresby a fpecial order, to guard againfl any intrufion in his lafl ficknefs, by which he might, even in the event of delirium, betray any doubtful appre- henfion that there might be an hereafter; or in any other way be furprifed in uttering expreflions of terror, and thus expofing the ftate of his mind, in cafe any fuch revolution fhould take place, which his heart whifpered him might poflibly happen. But not only in thofe happy deaths which clofe a life of avowed impiety, is there great room for fufpicion, but even in cafes where without acknowleged infidelity, there has been a carelefs life; when in fuch cafes we hear of a fudden death-bed revolution, of much feeming contrition, fucceeded by ex¬ traordinary profeflions of joy and triumph, we fhould be very cautious of pronouncing on 2o8 happy deaths. on their real ftate. Let us rather leave the penitent of a day to that mercy againft which he has been finning through a whole life. Thefe “ Clinical Converts ” (to borrow a favourite phrafe of the eloquent Bilhop Taylor) may indeed be true penitents ; but how {hall we pronounce them to be fo ? How can we conclude that “ they are dead unto {in ” unlefs they be fpared to “ live unto righteoufnefs.” Happily we are not called upon to decide. He to whofe broad eye the future and the pafl lie open, as he has been their conflant witnefs, fo will he be their unerring judge *. But * The primitive church carried their incredulity of the appearances of repentance fo far as to require not only years of forrovv for fin, but perfeverance in piety, before they would admit offenders to their communion ; and as a teft of their fincerity, required the uniform practice of thofe virtues mofl oppofite to their former vices — were this made the criterion now, we fhould not fo often hear fuch flaming accounts of converts, fo exultingly reported, before time has been allowed to try their {lability. More efpecially we ' fhould HAPPY DEATHS. But the admirers of certain happy deaths do not even pretend that any fuch change appeared in the friends of whom they make not fo much the panegyric as the apotheofis. They would even think repentance a dero¬ gation from the dignity of their character. They pronounce them to have been good enough as they were; infilling that they have a demand for happinefs upon God, if there be any fuch Being ; a claim upon hea¬ ven if there be any fuch place. They are fatisfied that their friend, after a life fpent without God in the world,” without evi¬ dencing any marks of a changed heart, with¬ out even affecting any thing like repen¬ tance, without intimating that there was any call for it, died pronouncing himself HAPPY. But nothing is more fufpicious than a happy death , where there has neither been fhould not hear of fo many triumphant relations of death-bed converts, in whom the fymptoms muft fre¬ quently be too equivocal to admit the pofitive deci- £on of human wifdom. religion ,210 HAPPY DEATHS, religion in the life nor humility in its clofe, -where its courfe has been without piety, and its termination without repentance. Others in a ftill bolder Itrain, difdaining the poilhumous renown to be conferred by furvivors, of their having died happily, pru¬ dently fecure their own fame, and changing both the tenfe and the perfon ufual in monu¬ mental Infcriptions, with prophetic confi¬ dence record on their own fepulchral marble, that they Jhall die not only “ happy” but “ grateful” —the prefcience of philofophy thus alfuming as certain, what the humble fpirit of Chriftianity only prefumes to hope. There is another reafon to be affigned for the charitable error of indifcriminately con- jfigning our departed acquaintance to certain happinefs. — Affli&ion, as it is a tender, fo it is a mifleading feeling, efpecially in minds naturally foft, and but flightly tin&ured with religion. The death of a friend awakens the kindeft feelings of the heart. But by ex¬ citing true forrow, it often excites falfe cha- • * V rity. HAPPY DEATHS. 211 rity. Grief naturally foftens every fault, love as naturally heightens every virtue. It is right and kind to confign error to obli¬ vion, but not to immortality. Charity in¬ deed we owe to the dead as well as to the living, but not that erroneous charity by which truth is violated, and undeferved com¬ mendation lavilhed on thofe whom truth could no longer injure. To calumniate the dead is even worfe than to violate the rights of fepulture; not to vindicate calumniated worth, when it can no longer vindicate itfelf, is a crime next to that of attacking it # ; but on • ; • t * What a generous inftance of that difinterefted attachment which furvives the grave of its objeCt, and pioufly refcues his reputation from the affaults of ma¬ lignity, was given by the late excellent Bifhop Por- teus, in his animated defence of Archbifhop Seeker ! May his own fair fame never Hand in need of any fuch warm vindication, which, however, it could not fail to find in the bofom of every good man ! —- The fine talents of this lamented Prelate, uniformly devoted to the purpofes for which God gave them — his life di¬ rected to thofe duties to which his high profefiional ftation called him —■ his Chriftian graces —- thofe en¬ gaging 312 HAPPY DEATHS. on the dead,charity, though well underflood, is often miftakingly exercifed. If we were called upon to colled the greatefl quantity of hyperbole — falfehood might be too harfh a term—in the lead: given time and fpace, we fhould do well to fearch for it in thofe facred edifices exprefsly confecrated to truth. There we fhould fee the ample mafs of canonizing kindnefs which fills their mural decorations, expreff- cd in all thofe flattering records infcribed by every variety of motive to every variety of claim. In addition to what is dedicated to real merit by real forrow, we fhould hear of tears which were never fhed, grief which was never felt, praife which gaging manners which fhed a foft luftre on the firm fidelity of his friendfhips — that kindnefs which was ever flowing from his heart to his lips — the benignity and candour which diftinguifhed not his converfa- tion only, but his conduct — thefe, and all thofe amiable qualities, that gentle temper and correct cheerfulnefs with which he adorned fociety, will ever endear his memory to all who knew him intimately; and let his friends remember, that to imitate his vir¬ tues will be the bell proof of their remembering them* was HAPPY DEATHS. 2IJ was never earned; we fhould fee what is raifed by the decent demands of connec¬ tion, by tender but undifcerning friendffiip, by poetic licence, by eloquent gratitude for teftamentary favours. It is an amiable though not a correct feel¬ ing in human nature, that, fancying we have not done juftice to certain characters during their lives, we run into the error of fup- pofed compenfation by over eflimating them after their deceafe. On account of neighbourhood, affinity, long acquaintance, or fome pleafing qualities, we may have entertained a kindnefs for many perfons, of whofe ftate however, while they lived, we could not, with the utmoft ftretch of charity, think favourably. If their ficknefs has been long and fevere, our compaffion having been kept by that circumftance in a ftate of continual excite¬ ment ; though we lament their death, yet we feel thankful that their fuffering is at an end. Forgetting our former opinion, and the courfe of life on which it was framed, we fall 214 HAPPY DEATHS. fall into all the common places of confolatiotl — tg God is merciful — we truft that they are at reft—what a happy releafe they have had!”—Nay, it is well if we do not go fo far as to entertain a kind of vague belief that their better qualities joined to their fuf- ferings have, on the whole, enfured their Thus at once lofmg fight of that word of God which cannot lie, of our former regrets on their fubject, lofing the remembrance of their defe&ive principles, and thoughtlefs condud; without any reafonable ground for altering our opinion, any pretence for entertaining a better hope —»we aflume that they are happy. We reafon as if we be¬ lieved that the fuffering of the body had purchafed the Salvation of the foul, as if it had rendered any doubt almoft criminal. We feem to make ourfelves eafy on the falfeft ground imaginable, not becaufe we believe their hearts were changed, but be¬ caufe they are now beyond all poftibility of change. But HAPPY DEATHS.. 21 5 But furely the mere circumflance of death will not have rendered them fit for that j heaven for which we before feared they were unfit. Far be it from us, indeed, blind and fmful as we are, to pafs fentence upon theniy to pafs fentence upon any . We dare not venture to pronounce what may have paffed between God and their Souls, even at the lafl hour. We know that infinite mercy is not reftri&ed to times or feafons ; to an early or a late repentance ; we know not but in that little interval their peace was made, their pardon granted, through the atoning blood, and powerful interceflion of their Redeemer. Nor fhould we too fcru- pulouily pry into the flate of others, never, indeed, except to benefit them or ourfelves; we fhould rather imitate the example of Chrifl, who at once gave an admirable leffon of meeknefs and charitable judgment, when avoiding an anfwer which might have led to fruitlefs difcuflion, he gave a reproof under the fhape of an exhortation.—In reply to the inquiry, “ are there few that be * faved,” HAPPY DEATHS. SI 6 £aved,” he thus checked vain curiofity — Strive (you) to enter in at the fhrait gate.’* On another occafion, in the fame fpirit, he corrected inquifttivenefs, not by an anfwer but by an interrogation and a precept — “ What is that to thee ? Follow thou me.” But where there is ftrong ground to ap¬ prehend that the contrary may have been the cafe, it is very dangerous to pronounce pe¬ remptorily on the fafety of the, dead. Be- caufe if we allow ourfelves to be fully per- fuaded that they are entered upon a ftate of happinefs, it will naturally and fatally tempt us to lower our own ftandard. If we are ready to conclude that they are now in a Hate of glory whofe principles we believed to be incorreft, whofe practice, to fay the leaft •r .» _ , . • . of it, we know to be negligent, who, without our indulging a cenforious or a prefump- tuous fpirit, we thought lived in a ftate of mind, and a courfe of habits, not only far from right, but even avowedly inferior to our own; will not this lead to the conclu- fion, either that we ourfelves, ftanding on fo much HAPPY DEATHS*? 21 7 much higher ground, are in a very advanced ftate of grace, or that a much lower than ours may be a flate of fafety ? And will not fuch a belief tend to Hacken our en¬ deavours, and to lower our tone, both of faith and pra&ice ? By this conclufion we contradict the af¬ fecting afiertion of a very fublime Poet, For us they ficken and for us they die. ' For while we are thus taking and giving falfe comfort, our friend as to us, will have died in vain. Inftead of his death having operated as a warning voice, to roufe us to a more animated piety it will be rather likely to lull us into a dangerous fecurity. If our affection has fo blinded our judgment, we lhall by the indulgence of a falfe candor to another, fink into a falfe peace ourfelves. It will be a wounding circumftance to the feelings of fur living friendfhip, to fee a per- fon of loofe habits, whom though we loved yet we feared to admonifh, and that, be- caufe we loved him ; for whom though we faw his danger yet perhaps we negle&ed to - vol. 11 . l pray; 2l8 HAPPY DEATHS. pray; to fee him brought to that ultimate and fixed flate in which admonition is im« poffible, in which prayer is not only fruit- lefs, but unlawful. Another diffreffing circumflance fre¬ quently occurs. We meet with affe&ionate but irreligious parents, who though kind and perhaps amiable, have neither lived themfelves, nor educated their families in •chriftian principles, nor in habits of chriftian piety. A child at the age of maturity dies. s' \ Deep is the affliction of the doating parent. The world is a blank. He looks round for comfort where he has been accuflomed to look for it, among his friends. He finds it not. He looks up for it where he has not been accuflomed to feek it. Neither his heart nor his treafure has been laid up in heaven. Yet a paroxyfm, of what may be termed natural devotion, gives to his grief an air of piety. The firll cry of anguifh is commonly religious. The lamented object perhaps, through,, utter ignorance of the awful gulf which was opening HAPPT DEATHS* 219 opening to receive him, added to a tranquil temper, might have expired without evi¬ dencing any great diftrefs, and his happy death is induftrioufly proclaimed through the neighbourhood, and the mourning pa¬ rents have only to wifh that their latter end may be like his. They cheat at once their forrow and their fouls, with the foothing notion that they fhall foon meet their beloved child in heaven. Of this they perfuade themfelves as firmly and as fondly, as if both they, and the objedl of their grief had been living in the way which leads thither. Oh for that unbought treafure, a firicere, a real friend, who might lay hold on the propitious moment! When the heart is foftened by forrow it might poffibly, if ever, be led to its true remedy. This would indeed be a more unequivocal, becaufe more painful a£t of friendfhip, than pouring in the lulling opiate of falfe confolation, which we are too ready to adminifter, becaufe it faves our own feelings while it foothes, without healing, thofe of the mourner. l 2 But if 220 HAPPY DEATHS. But perhaps the integrity of the friend conquers his timidity. — Alas! he is honeftly explicit to unattending or to offended ears. — They refufe to hear the voice of the charmer. But if the mourners will not endure the voice of exhortation now, while there is hope, how will they endure the found of the lafl trumpet when hope is at an end ? If they will not bear the gentle whifpers of friend- fhip, how r will they bear the voice of the ac- cufing angel, the terrible fentence of the incenfed Judge? If private reproof be in¬ tolerable, how will they Hand the being made a fpedtacle to angels and to men, even to the whole affembled univerfe, to the whole creation of God ? Bui inflead of converting the friendly warning to their eternal benefit they are probably wholly bent on their own vindica¬ tion. Still their character is dearer to them than their foul. — u We never, 5 ’ fay they, “ were any mans enemy. 55 —Yes — you have been the enemy of all to whom you have given a bad example. You have efpe-' $:;S' ■£ daily HAPPY DEATHS, Ilf daily been the enemy of your children, in whom you have implanted no Chriflian princi¬ ples. Still they infill with the Prophet that “ there is no iniquity in them that can be 6C called iniquity.” “ We have wronged 1 “ no one” fay they, “ we have given to ! “ every one his due. We have done our “ duty.” Your firfl duty was to God. You have robbed your Maker of the fervice due to him. You have robbed your Redeemer of the fouls he died to fave. You have robbed your own foul and too probably the fouls of thofe whom you have fo wretchedly educated, of eternal happinefs. Thus the flalhes of religion which darted- in upon their confcience in the firfl burfl of forrow too frequently die away ; they expire before the grief which kindled them. They refort again to their old refource the world* which if it cannot foon heal their forrow, at leall foon diverts it. To fhut our eyes upon death as an objedl of terror or of hope, and to confider it only as a releafe or an extin&ion, is viewing it L 3_ * -' • under £22 H^PPY DEATHS. under a character which is not its own. But to get rid of the idea at any rate, and then boaft that we do not fear the thing we do not think of, is not difficult. Nor is it difficult to think of it without alarm if we do not include its confequences. But to him wno frequently repeats, not mechanic cally but devoutly, u we know that thou “ ffialt come to be our Judge/’ death can¬ not be a matter of indifference. Another caufe of thefe happy deaths is that many think falvation a flight thing, that heaven is cheaply obtained, that a merciful God is eafily pleafed, that we are Chriftians, and that mercy comes, of courfe to thofe who have always profefl to believe that Chrifl died to purchafe it for them. This notion of God being more merciful than he has any where declared himfelf to be, inftead of infpiring them with more gratitude to him, infpires more confidence in themfelves. This corrupt faith generates a corrupt mor¬ ality. It leads to this ftrange confequence, « not to make them love God better, but to venture on offending him more. People HAPPY DEATHS, £2 2 *» mA , -k. People talk as if the ad of death made a complete change in the nature, as well as in the condition of man. Death is the vehicle ‘'"••‘ S' * ■■■.■, . J - v- to another date of being, but poffeffes no power to qualify us for that date. In con¬ veying us to a new world it does not give us a new heart. It puts the unalterable damp of decifion on the charader, but does not transform it into a charader diametrically oppofite. Our affedions themfelves will be rather raifed than altered. Their tendencies will be the fame tho’ their advancement will be incomparably higher. They will be exalted in their degree but not changed in their na¬ ture. They will be purified from all earthly mixtures, cleanfed from all human pollu¬ tions, the principle will be cleared from its imperfedions, but it will not become ano¬ ther principle. He that is unholy will not be made holy by death. The heart will not have a new objed to feek, but will be direded more intenfely to the fame objed. l 4 They HAPPY DEATHS* :224 They who loved God here will love him far more in heaven, becaufe they will know' him far better. There he will reign with¬ out a competitor. They who ferved him here in fincerity will there ferve him in per¬ fection. If “ the pure in heart Ihall fee u God,” let us remember that this purity is not to be contracted after we have been admitted to its remuneration. The beati¬ tude is pledged as a reward for the purity, not as a qualification for it. Purity will be fublimated in heaven but will not begin to be produced there. It is to be acquired by palling through the refiner’s fire here, not through the penal and expiatory fire which human ingenuity devifed to purge offending man. From the foul deeds done in his days of nature. 1 ' ... .. ... > The extricated fpirit will be feparated from the feculence of all that belongs to fin, to fenfe, to felf. We fhall indeed find our- felves new, becaufe fpiritualized beings ; but if HAPPY DEATHS, 225 if the caft of the mind were not in a great meafure the fame, how fhould we retain our identity ? The foul will there become that which it here defired to be, that which it mourned becaufe it was fo far from beingl It will have obtained that complete victory over its corruptions which it here only de¬ fired, which it here only ftruggled to obtain. Here our love of fpiritual things is fuper- induced, there it will be our natural frame. The impreflion of God on our hearts will be ftamped deeper, but it will not be a different impreflion. Our obedience will be more voluntary, becaufe there will be no 1 rival propenfities to obftruCt it. It will be more entire, becaufe it will have to ftruggle with no counteracting force. — Here we fincereiy though imperfeCtly love the law of God, even though it controls our perverfe will, though it contradicts our corruptions. There our love will be complete, becaufe our will will retain no perverfenefs, and our corrup¬ tions will be done away. l 5 Repentance 22 6 ’ HAPPY DEATHS. Repentance, precious at all feafons, in the feafon of health is noble. It is a generous principle when it overtakes us furrounded with the profperities of life, when it is not put off till difir efs drives us to it. Seriouf- nefs of fpirit is mofl acceptable to God when danger is out of fight, preparation for death when death appears to be at a diflance. Virtue and piety are founded on the na¬ ture of things, on the laws of God, not on any viciffitudes in human circumftances. Irreligion, folly and vice are juft as unrea- fonable in the meridian of life as at the ap¬ proach of death. They ftrike us differently but "they always retain their own chara£ter. Every argument againfl an irreligious death is equally cogent againfl an irre¬ ligious life. Piety and penitence may be quickened by the near view of death, but the reafons for pra£lifmg them are not founded on its nearnefs. Death may {Emu¬ late our fears for the confequences of vice, but furnifhes no motive for avoiding it, which C.hriflianity had not taught before. The HAPPY DEATHS.. 22 J The neceffity of religion is as urgent now as it will be when we are dying. It may not appear fo, but the reality of a thing does not depend on appearances. Befides, if the necellity of being religious depended on the approach of death, what moment of our lives is there, in which we have any fecurity againfl it ? In every point of view therefore, the fame neceffity for being religious fubfifts when we are in full health as when we are about to die. We may then fairly arrive at this con- clufion, that there is no happy death but that which conducts to a happy immortality ; -— No joy in putting off the body, if we have not put on the Lord Jefus Chrifl — No confolation in efcaping from the miferies of time till we have obtained a Well grounded hope of a blelfed eternity. 228 ON THE SUFFERINGS 7 CHAP. XX. On the Sufferings of good Men. $ • b AFFLICTION is the fchool in which great virtues are acquired, in which great cha¬ racters are formed. It is a kind of moral Gymnafium, in which the difciples of Chrifl are trained to robuft exercife, hardy exertion, and fevere conflict. We do not hear of martial heroes in u the calm and piping time of peace ,” nor of the moft eminent faints in the quiet and unmolefted periods of ecclefiaftical hiftory. We are far from denying that the principle of courage in the warrior, or of piety in the faint continues to fubfifl, ready to be brought into aCtion when perils befet the country or trials afifail the church; but it muft be al¬ lowed that in long periods of inaCtion, both are liable to decay. The OF GOOD MEN, 229 The Chriftian, in our comparatively tranquil day, is happily exempt from the trials and the terrors which the annals of perfecution record. Thanks to the eftab- lifhment of a pure Chriftianity in the Church, thanks to the infufion of the fame pure principle into our laws, and to the mild and tolerating fpirit of both — a man is fo far from being liable to pains and penalties for his attachment to his religion, that he is prote&ed in its exercife; and were certain exifting ftatutes enforced, he would even incur penalties for his violation of religious duties, rather than for his obfervance of them *. Yet ftill the Chriftian is not exempt from his individual, his appropriate, his undefined trials. We refer not merely to thofe u cruel mockings,” which the acute fenfibility of the Apoftle led him to rank in the fame catalogue with bonds, imprifonments, exile and martyrdom itfelf. We allude not al- * We allude to the laws againft fwearing, attend¬ ing public worfhip, &c. together 230 ON THE SUFFERINGS together to thofe mifreprefentations and ca¬ lumnies to which the zealous Chriflian is peculiarly liable; nor exclufively to thofe difficulties to which his very adherence to the principles he profeffes, mull necelfarily fubjeft him; nor entirely to thofe occafional facrifices of credit, of advancement, of popular applaufe, to which his refufing to fail with the tide of popular opinion may compel him; nor folely to the difadvantages which under certain circumftances his not preferring expediency to principle may ex- pofe him. But the truly good man is not only often called to flruggle with trials of large dimenfions, with exigencies of obvious difficulty, but to encounter others which are better underflood than defined. • - it •' ' m. — « k - • ■ < And duller would he be than the fat weed That roots itfelf at eafe on Lethe’s wharf, were he left to batten undiflurbed, in peace¬ ful fecurity on the unwholefome paftures of rank profperity. The thick exhalations drawn up from this grofs foil render the at- mofphere OF GOOD MEN. 231 mofphere fo heavy as to obftruft the afcent of piety, her flagging pinions are kept down by the influence of this moifl: vapour ; fhe is prevented from foaring, to live infphered In regions mild of calm and ferene air Above the fmoke and ftir of this dim fpot Which men call earth. The pampered Chriftian thus continually gravitating to the earth, would have his heart folely bent to Strive to keep up a frail and feverifh being. Unmindful of the crown religion gives After this mortal change to her true fervants. It is an unfpeakable blefling that no events are left to the choice of beings, who from their blindnefs would feldom fail to chufe amifs. Were circumftances at our own dif- pofal we Ihould allot ourfelves nothing but eafe and fuccefs, but riches and fame, but protra&ed youth, perpetual health* unvaried happinefs* • ' All 232 ON THE SUFFERINGS All this, as it would be very natural, fo perhaps it would not be very wrong, for beings who were always to live on earth. But for beings who are placed here in a ftate of trial and not eftablifhed in their final home, whofe condition in eternity depends on the ufe they make of time, nothing would be more dangerous than fuch a power, nothing more fatal than the confequences to which fuch a power would lead. If a furgeon were to put into the hand of a wounded patient the probe or the launcet, with how much falfe tendernefs would he treat himfelf! How fkin-deep would be the examination, how flight the incifion! The patient would efcape the pain, but the wound might prove mortal. The practitioner there¬ fore wifely ufes his inftruments himfelf. He goes deep perhaps, but not deeper than the cafe demands. The pain may be acute, but the life is preferved. Thus He in whofe hands we are, is too good, and loves us too well to truft us with ourfelves. He knows that we will not con¬ tradict tf'XV'M -c fits*-* /' f'h 1 1 r OffwA OF GOOD MEN. 2 33 tradift our own inclinations, that we will not impofe on ourfelves any thing unpleafant, that we will not inflict on ourfelves any vo¬ luntary pain, however neceflary the infli&ion, however falutary the effect. God gracioufly does this for us himfelf, or he knows it would never be done. A Chriftian is liable to the fame forrows and fufFerings with other men : He has no where any promife of immunity from the troubles of life, but he has a merciful pro¬ mife of fupport under them. He confiders them in another view, he bears them with another fpirit, he improves them to other purpofes than thofe whofe views are bounded by this world. Whatever may be the in-" ftrument of his fuffering, whether ficknefs, Ioffes, calumnies, perfecutions, he knows that it proceeds from God; all means are his inftruments. All inferior caufes ope¬ rate by his directing hand. We faid that a Chriftian is liable to the fame fufFerings with other men. Might we not repeat what we have before faid, that his very 234 ON THE sufferings very Chriftian profeflion is often the caufe of his fufferings ? They are the badge of his difciplefhip, the evidences of his father’s love ; they are at once the marks of God’s favour, and the materials of his own future happinefs. What were the arguments of worldly ad¬ vantage held out through the whole New Teflament to induce the world to embrace V._ * ; . . v ~ J *. ... . / '**./;■* ' the religion it taught ? What was the con¬ dition of St. Paul’s introdu&ion to Chriftia- nity ? It was not —• I will crown him with honour and profperity, with dignity and pleafure, but — “ I will fhew him how great things he muft fuffer for my name’s fake.” What were the virtues which Chrift chiefly taught in his difcourfes ? What were the graces he mod recommended by his ex¬ ample ? Self-denial, mortification, patience, long-differing, renouncing eafe and pleafure. Thefe are the marks which have ever fince its firfl appearance, diflinguifhed Chriflianity from all the religions in the world, and on that OF GOOD MEN. 2 35 that account evidently prove its divine ori¬ ginal. Eafe, fplendour, external profperity, conqued, made no part of its edablifhment. Other empires have been founded in the blood of the vanquifhed, the dominion of Chrid was founded in his own blood. Mod of the beatitudes which infinite compaffion pronounced, have the forrows of earth for their fubjeft, but the joys of heaven for their completion. To edablifh this religion in the world, the Almighty, as his own tyord affures us, fub- verted kingdoms and altered the face of na¬ tions. “ For thus faith the Lord of Hods” (by his prophet Haggai) “ yet once, it is a little while, and I will fhake the heavens and the earth and the fea and the dry land; and I will fhake all nations, and the defire of all nations fhall come.” Could a religion, the kingdom of which was to be founded by fuch awful means, be edablifhed, be perpe¬ tuated, without involving the fufferings of its fubje&s ? If 236 ON THE SUFFERINGS • If the Chriftian courfe had been meant for a path of rofes, would the life of the Author of Chriftianity have been a path ftrewed with thorns ? “ He made for us,” fays Bifhop Jeremy Taylor, cc a covenant of Of¬ ferings, his very promifes were Offerings, his rewards were Offerings, and his argu¬ ments to invite men to follow him were only taken from Offerings in this life and the re¬ ward of Offerings hereafter.” But if no prince but the prince of peace ever fet out with a proclamation of the rever- fionary nature of his empire — if no other king, to allay avarice and check ambition, ever invited fubje&s by the unalluring decla¬ ration that “ his kingdom was not of this world”—if none other ever declared that it was not dignity or honours, valour or ta¬ lents that made them “ worthy of him ” but “ taking up the crofs” — if no other ever made the forrows which would attend his followers a motive for their attachment — yet no other ever had the goodnefs to pro- mife. OF GOOD MEN. 237 mife, or the power to make his promife good, that he would give cc reft to the heavy laden.” Other fovereigns have u over¬ come the world” for their own ambition, but none befides ever thought of making the 66 tribulation” which fhould be the effed of that conquefl, a ground for animating the fidelity of his followers — ever thought of bidding them “ be of good cheer,” becaufe he had overcome the world in a fenfe which was to make his fubjeds lofe all hope of rifing in it. * The Apoftle to the Phiiippians enumerated it among the honours and diflindions pre¬ pared for his molt favoured converts, not only that cc they fhould believe in Chrift” but that they fhould alfo “ fufFer for him.” Any other religion would have made ufe of fuch a promife as an argument to deter, not to attrad. That a religion fhould flourifh the more under fuch difcouraging invitations, with the threat of even degrading circum- ftances and abfolute Ioffes, is an unanfwer- able evidence that it was of no human origin. r v 1 it 238 ON THE SUFFERINGS It is among the mercies of God, that he ftrengthens the virtues of his fervants by hardening them under the cold and bracing climate of adverfe fortune, inflead of leaving them to languifh under the fhining but withering fun of unclouded profperity. When they cannot be attra&ed to him by gentler influences he fends thefe falutaiy florms and tempefts, which purify while they alarm. Our gracious Father knows that Eternity is long enough for his children to be happy in. The character of Chriftianity may be feen by the very images of military conflict under which the fcriptures fo frequently ex¬ hibit it. Suffering is the initiation into a Chrif- ian’s calling. It is his education for heaven, fhall the fcholar rebel at the difcipline which is to fit him for his profeflion, or the foldier at the exercife which is to qualify him for victory ? But the Chriflian’s trials do not all fpring from without. He would think them comparatively eafy had he only the oppo- fition OF GOOD MEN. 239 fition of men to ftruggle againft, or even the feverer difpenfations of God to fuftain ? If he has a conflict with the world, he has a harder conflict with fin. His bofom foe is his moft unyielding enemy; His warfare is within, there unfatigued His fervent fpirit labours. This it is which makes his other trials heavy, which makes his power of fuflaining them weak, which renders his conqueft over them flow and inconclufive; which too often folicits him to oppofe intereft to duty, indolence to refinance and felf indulgence to victory. This world is the flage on which worldly men more exclufively a£t, and the things of the world, and the applaufe of the world, are the rewards which they propofe to them- felves. Thefe they often attain — with thefe they are fatisfied. They aim at no higher end, and of their aim they are not difap- pointed. But let not the Chriftian repine at the fuccefs of thofe whofe motive he reje&s, whofe ON THE SUFFERINGS 1240 * 'V whofe practices he dares not adopt, whofe ends he deprecates. If he feel any difpo- fition to murmur when he fees the irreligious in great profperity, let him afk himfelf if he would tread their path to attain their end — if he would do their work to obtain their * * ** * * « ...... wages ? He knows he would not. Let him then cheerfully leave them to fcramble for the prizes, and joftle for the places, which the world temptingly holds out, but which he will not purchafe at the world’s price. Confult the page of Hiftory, and obferve, not only if the belt men have been the moft fuccefsful, but even if they have not often eminently failed in great enterprizes, under- taken perhaps on the pureft principles; while unworthy inflruments have been often employed, not only to produce dangerous revolutions, but to bring about events ulti- ^ * mately tending to the public benefit; enter¬ prizes in which good men feared to engage, which perhaps they were not competent to effect, or in effecting which they might have wounded their confcience and endangered their fouls. Good OF GOOD MEN. 241 Good caufes are not always conduced by good men. A good caufe may be connected with fomething that is not good, with party for inftance. Party often does that for virtue, which virtue is not able to do for herfelf; and thus the right caufe is promoted and ef¬ fected by fome fubordinate, even by fome wrong motive. A worldly man connecting himfelf with a religious caufe, gives it that importance in the eyes of the world which neither its own rectitude, nor that of its re¬ ligious fupporters, had been able to give it. Nay the very piety of its advocates — for worldly men always conneCt piety with im¬ prudence — had brought the wifdom, or at lealt the expediency of the caufe into fufpicion, and it is at laft carried by a means foreign to itfelf. The character of the caufe mull be lowered, we had almolt faid, it mult in a certain degree be deteriorated, to fuit the general talte, even to obtain the approbation of that multitude for whofe benefit it is intended. VOL. 11. m How 242 ON THE SUFFERINGS How long, as we have had occafion to obferve in another connexion, had the world groaned under the mofl tremendous Engine which fuperdition and defpotifm, in dreadful confederation, ever contrived to force the confciences, and torture the bodies of men ; where racks were ufed for perfuafion, and flames for arguments! The bed of men for ages have been mourning under this dread Tribunal, without being competent to effeft its overthrow; the word of men has been able to accomplilh it with a word. — It is a humiliating leflon for good men when they thus fee how entirely indrumentality may be feperated from perfonal virtue. We Hill fall into the error of which the Prophet fo long ago complained, “ we call the proud happy,” and the wicked fortunate, and our hearts are too apt to rife at their fuccefles. We pretend indeed that they rife with indignation; but is it not to be feared that with this indignation is mixed a little envy, a little rebellion againd God ? We murmur, though we know that when the indrument OF GOOD MEN, 243' inftrument has finiffied his work, the divine employer throws him by, cuts him off, lets him perifh. But you envy him in the midft of that work to accomplifh which he has facrificed every principle of juftice, truth and mercy. Is this a man to be envied ? Is this a prof- perity to be grudged ? Would you incur the penalties of that happinefs at which you are not afhamed to murmur ? But is it happinefs to commit fin, to be ab¬ horred by good men, to offend God, to ruin his own foul ? Do you really confider a tem¬ porary fuccefs a recompence for deeds which will infure eternal woe to the perpetrator ? Is the fuccefsful bad man happy ? Of what materials then is happinefs made up ? Is it compofed of a difturbed mind and an unquiet confcience ? Are doubt and difficulty, are terror and apprehenfion, are diftrufl and fufpicion, felicities for which a Chriflian would renounce his Peace, would difpleafe his Maker, would rifk his Soul ? Think of the hidden vulture that feeds on the vitals of m 2 fuccefsful 244 ON THE SUFFERINGS fuccefsful wickednefs, and your repinings, your envy, if you are fo unhappy as to feel envy, will ceafe. Your indignation will be converted into compafhon, your execrations into prayer. But if he feel neither the fcourge of con- fcience nor the fling of remorfe, pity him the more. Pity him for the very want of that addition to his unhappinefs: for if he added to his miferies that of anticipating his punifhment, he might be led by repentance to avoid it. Can you reckon the blinding his eyes and the hardening his heart, any part of his happinefs ? This opinion how¬ ever you pra&ically adopt whenever you grudge the profperity of the wicked. God, by delaying the punifhment of bad men, for which vye are fo impatient, may have defigns of mercy of which we lqiow nothing—» mercy perhaps to them, or if not to them, yet mercy to thofe who are fuffering by them, and whom he intends by thefe bad inflru- ments, to punifh, and, by punifhing, event¬ ually to fave. There OF GOOD MEN. £45 There is another fentiment which pros¬ perous wickednefs excites in certain minds, that is almoft more prepofterous than envy itfelf, and that is refped ; but this feeling is never raifed unlefs both the wickednefs and the profperity be on a grand Scale. This fentiment alfo is founded in Secret impiety, in the belief either that God does not govern human affairs, or* that the mo¬ tives of actions are not regarded by him, or that profperity is a certain proof of his fa¬ vour, or that where there is fuccefs there mud be worth. Thefe flatterers however forfake the profperous with their good for¬ tune ; their applaufe is withheld with the fuccefs which attra&ed it. As they were governed by events in their admiration, So events lead them to withdraw it. But in this admiration there is a bad tafle as well as a bad principle. If ever wicked¬ nefs pretends to excite any idea of fublimity it muft.be, not in its elevation but its fall* If ever Caius Marius raifes any fuch fenti¬ ment, it is not when he carried the world before him, it is not in his feditious and m 3 bloody ON THE SUFFERINGS 246 bloody triumphs at Rome, but it is when in poverty and exile his intrepid look caufed the dagger to drop from the hand of the executioner; — it is, when fitting among the venerable ruins of Carthage he enjoyed a defolation fo congenial to his own. — Dionyfius, in the plenitude of arbitrary power, raifes our unmixed abhorrence. We deteft the oppreftor of the people while he continued to trample on them; we execrate the Monfter who was not afhamed to fell Plato as a have. If ever we feel any thing like inter eft on his fubjeft, it is not with the Tyrant of Syracufe but with the School-Mafter of Corinth. But though God may be patient with triumphant wickednefs, he does not wink or connive at it. Between being permitted and fupported, between being employed and ap¬ proved, the diftance is wider than we are ready to acknowledge. Perhaps “ the ini¬ quity of the Amorites is not yet full.” God has always the means of puniftiment as well as of pardon in his own hands. But to punilh juft at the moment when we would hurl OF GOOD MEN. hurl the bolt, might break in on a fcheme of Providence of wide extent and indefinite confequences. cc They have drunk their hemlock” fays a fine writer “ but the poifon does not yet work.” Perhaps the convulfion may be the more terrible for the delay. Let us not be impatient to accom- plifh a fentence which infinite juftice fees right to defer — It is always time enough to enter into hell. Let us think more of re- draining our own vindictive tempers, than of precipitating their deftru&ion. They may yet repent of the crimes they are per¬ petrating. God may ftill by fome fcheme, intricate, and unintelligible to us, pardon the fin which we think exceeds the limits even of his mercy. But we contrive to make revenge itfelf look like religion. We call down thunder on many a head under pretence that thofe on whom we invoke it are God’s enemies, when perhaps we invoke it becaufe they are ours. m 4 But ON THE SUFFERINGS But though they fhould go on with a full tide of profperity to the end, will it not cure our impatience that that end mud come ? will it not fatisfy us that they mud die, that they mud come to judgement ? Which is to be envied, the Chridian who dies and his brief forrows have a period, or he who clofes a profperous life and enters on a miferable eternity ? The one has nothing to fear if the promifes of the Gofpel be true, the other nothing to hope if they be not falfe. The word of God mud be a lye, . r , „ J heaven a fable, hell an invention, before the impenitent finner can be fafe. Is that man tb be envied whofe fecurity depends on their falfehood ? Is the other to be pitied whofe hope is founded on their reality ? Can that date be happinefs, which refults from be¬ lieving that there is no God, no future reckoning ? Can that date be mifery which confids in knowing that there is both. In edimating the comparative happinefs of good and bad men, we fhould ever bear m OF GOOD MEN. 249 in mind that of all the calamities which can be inflicted or differed, fin is the greateil; and of all punifhments, infenfibility to fin is the heavieft which the wrath of God in¬ flicts in this world for the commiflion of it. God fo far then from approving a wicked man, becaufe he fuffers him to go on triumphantly, feems rather, by allowing him to continue his fmooth and profperous courfe, to have fome awful deftiny in ftore for him, which will not perhaps be revealed till his repentance is too late ; then his knowlege of God’s difpleafure, and the dreadful con- fequences of that difpleafure, may be revealed together, may be revealed when there is no room for mercy. But without looking to futurity — con¬ futing only the prefent condition of dif¬ fering virtue; if we put the inward con- folation derived from communion with God, the humble confidence of prayer, the devour truft in the divine protection — fupports commonly referved for the afflicted Chrif- tian, and eminently beftowed in his greatefl: m 5 exigence 5 250 ON THE SUFFERINGS exigence; if we place thefe feelings in the oppofite fcalewith all that unjuft power ever bellowed, or guilty wealth polfelfed; we (hall have no hefitation in deciding on which fide even prefent happinefs lies. With a mind thus fixed, with a faith thus firm, one great object fo abforbs theChriftian that his peace is not toft about with the things which difcompofe ordinary men, “ My fortune,'” may he fay, “ it is true, is filt¬ ered ; but as I made not “ fine gold my confidence” while I pofiefted it, in lofing it, I have not loft myfelf. I leaned not on power, for I knew its inftability. Had pro- fperity been my dependence, my fupport being removed, I muft fall.” In the cafe of the afflicted chriftian you lament perhaps with the wife of the perfe¬ cted hero, that he fuffers being innocent. But would it extract the fling from fuftering, were guilt added to it ? Out of two worlds te have all forrow in this and no hope in the next would be indeed intolerable. Would you have him purchafe a reprieve from fuf- 0 E GOOD MEN. 1 251 ferlng by fmful compliances ? Think how eafe would be deftroyed by the price paid for it! for how fhort a time he would enjoy it, even if it were not bought at the expence of his foul! It would be prepofterous to fay that fuf- fering is the recompence of virtue, and yet it may with truth be aflerted that the capa¬ city for enjoying the reward of virtue is en¬ larged by fuffering; and thus it becomes not only the inftrument of promoting virtue, but the inftrument of rewarding it. Beftdes, God chufes for the confirmation of our faith, as well as for the confummation of his gracious plans, to referve in his own hand this moft ftriking proof of a future retribu¬ tion. To fuppofe that he cannot ultimately recompence his virtuous afflicted children is to believe him' lefs powerful than an earthly father — to fuppofe that he will not, is to believe him lefs merciful. Great trials are oftener proofs of favour than of difpleafure. An inferior officer will fuffice for inferior expeditions, but the Sove- m 6 reign I 252 ON THE SUl-FERINGS reign fele&s the ableft General for the mod difficult fervice. And not only does the king evidence his opinion by the feledtion, but the foldier proves his attachment by re¬ joicing in the preference. His having gained one victory is no reafon for his being fet afide. Conqueft which qualifies him for new attacks, fuggefts a reafon for his being again employed. The bufferings of good men by no means contradid the affurance that c< Godlinefs 1 has the promife of the life that now is,” nor that promife “ that the meek ffiall inherit the earth.” They poffefs it by the fpirit in which they enjoy its bieffings, by the fpirit with which they refign them. The belief too that trials will facilitate falvation is another fource of confolation. Sufferings alfo abate the dread of death by cheapening the price of life. The affe&ions even of the real Chriftian are too much drawn downwards. His heart too fondly cleaves to the duff, though he knows that trouble fprings out of it. How would it be if OF GOOD MEN. 2 53 if he invariably poflefled prefent enjoyments, and if a long villa of delights lay always open before him ? He has a farther com¬ fort in his own honed confcioufnefs; a bright conviction that his Chridian feeling under trials is a cheering evidence that his piety is fincere. The gold has been melted down, and its purity is afcertained. Among his other advantages, the afflicted Chridian has that of being able to apply to the mercy of God, not as a new and untried, and therefore an uncertain refource. Pie does not come as an alien before a drange mader, but as a child into the well known prefence of a tender father. He did not put off prayer till this preffing exigence. He did not make his God a fort of dernier reffort to be had recourfe to only in the great waterfloods. He had long and diligently foup’ht him in the calm ; he had adhered to him, if the phrafe may be allowed, before he was driven to it. He had fought God’s fa¬ vour while he enjoyed the favour of the world. He did not wait for the day of evil to ON THE SUFFERINGS 254 to feek the fupreme Good. He did not defer his meditations on heavenly things to the difconfolate hour when earth has nothing for him. He can cheerfully affociate religion with thofe former days of felicity, when with every thing before him out of which to chufe, he chofe God. He not only feels the fupport derived from his prefent prayers, but the benefit of all thofe which he offered up in the day of joy and gladnefs. He will efpecially derive comfort from the fupplica- tions he had made for the anticipated though unknown trial of the prefent hour, and which in fuch a world of viciflitudes, it was reafonable to expedb Let us confefs then, that in all the trying circumfiances of this changeful fcene, there is fomething infinitely foothing to the feel¬ ings of a Chriftian, fomething inexpreffibly tranquillizing to his mind, to know that he has nothing to do with events but to fubmit to them; that he has nothing to do with the revolutions of life but to acquiefce in them, as the difpenfations of eternal wif- 9t dom; OF GOOD MEN. 255 dom; that he has not to take the manage¬ ment out of the hands of Providence, but fubmiflively to follow the divine leading; that he has not to contrive for to-morrow, but to acquiefce to-day; not to condition about events yet to come, but to meet thofe which are prefent with cheerful refignation. Let him be thankful that as he could not by forefeeing prevent them, fo he was not permitted to forefee them; thankful for ignorance where knowlege would only pro¬ long without preventing faltering ; thankful for that grace which has promifed that our (Length (hall be proportioned to our day; thankful that as he is not refponfible for trials which he has not brought on himfelf, fo by the goodnefs of God thefe trials may be improved to the noblefl purpofes. The quiet acquiefcence of the heart, the annihi¬ lation of the will under a&ual circumftances, be the trial great or fmall, is more accept¬ able to God, more indicative of true piety, than the ftrongeft general refolutions of firm a&ing and deep fubmiflion under the mo ft trying ON THE SUFFERINGS 256 trying unborn events. In the remote cafe it is the imagination which fubmits ; in the a6lual cafe it is the will. We are too ready to imagine that there is no other way of ferving God but by active exertions; exertions which are often made becaufe they indulge our natural tade, and gratify our own inclinations. But it is an error to imagine that God, by putting us into any fuppofeable fituation, puts it out of our power to glorify him ; that he can place us under any circumdances which may not be turned to fome account, either for our- felves or others. Jofeph in his prifon, under the dronged difqualifications, lofs of liberty and a blalted reputation, made way both for his own high advancement and for the deli¬ verance of Ifrael. Daniel in his dungeon, not only the dedined prey, but in the very jaws of furious beads, converted the King of Babylon and brought him to the knowlege of the true God. Could profperity have effe&ed the former ? Would not profperity have prevented the latter ? But OF GOOD MEN. 2 57 But todefcend to more familiar indances—- It is among the ordinary, though mod myderious difpenfations of Providence, that many of his appointed fervants who are not only eminently fitted, but alfo mod zealoufly difpofed, to glorify their Redeemer by iri- dru&ing and reforming their fellow crea¬ tures, are yet difqualified by difeafe, and fet afide from that public duty of which the necefiity is fo obvious, and of which the fruits were fo remarkable, whild many others poflefs uninterrupted health and drength, for the exercife of thofe functions for which they are little gifted and lefs difpofed. But God’s ways are not as our ways. He is not accountable to his creatures. The caviller would know why it is right. The differing chridian believes and feels it to be right. He humbly acknowleges the ne- cedity of the affli&ion which his friends are lamenting ; he feels the mercy of the mea- fure which others are fufpe&ing of injudice. With deep humility he is perfuaded that if the affli&ion is not yet withdrawn, it is be- . . caufe 258 ON THE SUFFERINGS caufe it has not yet accomplifhed the purpofe for which it was fent. The privation is pro¬ bably intended both for the individual inte- refts of the fufferer, and for the reproof of thofe who have neglected to profit by his labours. Perhaps God more efpecially thus draws ftill nearer to himfelf, him who had drawn fo many others. But to take a more particular view of the cafe, we are too ready to confider fuffering as an indication of God’s difpleafure, not fo much againfi: fin in general, as againfi: the individual fulferer. Were this the cafe, then would thofe faints and martyrs who have pined in exile, and groaned in dungeons, and expired on fcaffolds, have been the ob¬ jects of God’s peculiar wrath inftead of his fpecial favour. But the truth is, fome little tincture of latent infidelity mixes itfelf in almoft all our reafonings on thefe topics. We do not conftantly take into the account a future Ifate. We want God, if I may hazard the expreflion, to clear himfelf as he goes. We cannot give him fuch long cre¬ dit OF GOOD MEN. 259 dit as the period of human life. He muff every moment be vindicating his character againft every fceptical cavil; he mull unravel his plans to every lhallow critic, he mult anticipate the knowlege of his defign before its operations are completed. If we may adopt a phrafe in ufe among the vulgar, we will trull him no farther than we can fee him. Though he has faid, “judge nothing before the time,” we judge indantly, of courfe ralhly, and in general falfely. Were the brevity of earthly profperity and fuller¬ ing, the certainty of retributive juftice, and the eternity of future blelfednefs perpetually kept in view, we Ihould have more patience *■ with God. Even in judging fictitious compofitions, we are more juft. During the perufal of a tragedy, or any work of invention, though we feel for the diltrelfes of the perfonages, yet we do not form an ultimate judgment of the propriety or injuftice of their fufferings. We wait for the cataitrophe. We give the poet credit either that he will extricate them from 1 26o ON THE SUFFERINGS from their dillreflfes, or eventually explain the juftice of them. We do not condemn him at the end of every fcene for the trials of that fcene, which the fufferers do not appear to have deferved; for the fufferings which do not always feem to have arifen from their own mifconduct. We behold the trials of the virtuous with fympathy, and the fucceflqs of the wicked with indignation ; but we do not pafs our final fentence till the poet has palTed his. We referve our decifive judg¬ ment till the laft fcene clofes, till the curtain drops. Shall we not treat the fchemes of infinite wifdom with as much refpeft as the plot of a Drama. But to borrow our illuftration from rea¬ lities. — In a Court of Juftice the by-ftanders do not give their fentence in the midfl of a trial. We wait patiently till all the evidence is collected, and circumftantially detailed, and finally fummed up. And — to purfue the allufion — imperfect as human decifions may poflibly be, fallible as we mutt allow the molt deliberate and honeft verdict may prove, OF GOOD MEN. 26 1 prove, we commonly applaud the juftice of the jury and the equity of the judge. The felon they condemn we rarely acquit; where they remit judgment we rarely denounce it. — It is only infinite wisdom on whofe purpofes we cannot rely ; it is only infinite mercy whofe operations we cannot truft. It is only “ the Judge of all the earth” who cannot do right. We reverfe the order of God by fummoningHiM to our bar, at whofe awful bar we fhall foon be judged. But to return to our more immediate point — the apparently unfair distribution of profperity between good and bad men. As their cafe is oppoftte in every thing — the one is conftantly deriving his happinefs from that which is the fource of the other’s mi- fery, a fenfe of the divine omnifcience. The eye of God is “ a pillar of light ” ta the one, and u a cloud and darknefs ” to the other. It is no lefs a terror to him who dreads His juftice than a joy to him who de¬ rives all his fupport from the awful thought Thou God seest ! > . But 262 ON THE SUFFERINGS But as we have already obferved, can we want a broader line of difcrimination be¬ tween them, than their aCtual condition here, independently of the different portions re- ferved for them hereafter ? Is it not dif- tinCtion enough that the one though fad is fafe; that the other though confident is in- fecure ? Is not the one as far from reft as he is from virtue, as far from the enjoyment of quiet as from the hope of heaven ? as far from peace as he is from God ? Is it, nothing that every day brings the Chriftian nearer to his crown, and that the finner is every day working his way nearer to his ruin ? The hour of death which the one dreads as fomething worfe than extinction, is to the other the hour of his nativity, the birth-day of immortality. At the height of his fufferings, the good man knows that they will foon terminate. In the zenith of his fuccefs the finner has a fimilar affurance. But how different is the refult of the fame conviction! An invincible faith fuftains the one, in the fevereft calamities, while an inex- tinguifhable OF GOOD MEN. 2 63 tinguifhable dread gives the lye to the proudeft triumphs of the other. He then, after all, is the only happy man, not whom worldly profperity renders appa¬ rently happy, but whom no change of worldly circumftances can make effentially miferable ; whofe peace depends not on ex¬ ternal events, but on an internal fupport; not on that fuccefs which is common to all, but on that hope which is the peculiar pri¬ vilege, on that promife which is the foie pre¬ rogative of the Chriftian, i . \ c 264 ] CHAP. XXI. The Temper and ConduCt of the Chriftian in Sicknefs and in Death. THE Pagan Philofophers have given many admirable precepts both for refigning bleff- ings and for fuftaining misfortunes• but wanting the motives and fanCtions of Chrif- tianity, though they excite much intellectual admiration, they produce little practical elfeCt. The Stars which glittered in their moral night though bright, imparted no w r armth. Their mo ft beautiful diflertations on death had no charm to extraCt its fling. We receive no fupport from their mo ft ela¬ borate Treatifes on immortality, for want of him who “ brought life and immortality to light. J> Their confolatory difcuflions could 4| not flrip the grave of its terrors, for to them it was not “ fwallow r ed up in Victory.” To conceive of the Soul as an immortal princi¬ ple, without propofing a fcheme for the pardon 1 OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C. 265 pardon of its fins, was but cold confolation. Their future hate was but a happy guefs; their heaven but a fortunate conjecture. When we perufe their hnefl compoli- lions, we admire the manner in which the medicine is adminiftered, but we do not find it effectual for the cure, nor even for the mi¬ tigation of our difeafe. The beauty of the fentiment we applaud, but our heart conti¬ nues to ache. There is no healing balm in their elegant prefcription. Thefe four little words “ thy will be done,” contain a charm of more powerful efficacy than all the difciplme of the Stoic School. They cut up a long train of clear but cold reafoning, and fuperfede whole volumes of argument on fate and neceffity. What fufferer ever derived any eafe from the fubtle diflindtion of the hair-fplitting ca- fuifl, who allowed “ that pain was very trou- blefome, but refolved never to acknowlege it to be an evil r” There is an equivocation in his manner of hating the propofition. He does not dire&ly fay that pain is not an evil. VOL. 11. but N 2 66 THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT but by a fophiftical turn profefies that philo- fophy will never confefs it to be an evil. But what confolation does the fufferer draw from the quibbling nicety ? “ What difference is there,” as Archbifhop Tillotfon well en¬ quires, “ between things being troublefome and being evils, when all the evil of an affliction lies in the trouble it creates to us?” Chriflianity knows none of thefe fanciful diftinCtions. She never pretends to infill that pain is not an evil, but {he does more ; {he converts it into a good. Chriflianity, therefore, teaches a fortitude as much more noble than philofophy, as meeting pain with reiignation to the hand that inflicts it, is more heroic than denying it to be an evil. To fubmit on the mere human ground that there is no alternative, is not refignation but hopelefflnefs. To bear affliction folely becaufe impatience will not remove it, is but an inferior, though a juft reafon for bearing it. It favours rather of defpair than fubmif- fion OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C. 267 fion when not fandioned by a higher prin¬ ciple. — “ It is the Lord, let him do what feemeth him good,” is at once a motive of more powerful obligation than all the docu¬ ments which philofophy ever fuggefted ; a firmer ground of fupport than ail the energies that natural fortitude ever fupplied. Under any vifitation, ficknefs for inftance, God permits us to think the afflidion 66 not joyous but grievous.” But though he al¬ lows us to feel, we muft not allow ourfelves to repine. There is again a fort of heroifm in bearing up again!! afflidion, which fome adopt on the ground that it raifes their cha- rader, and confers dignity on their fullering. This philofophic firmnefs is far from being the temper which Chriftianity inculcates. When we are compelled by the hand of God to endure fuflferings, or driven by a com- vidion of the vanity of the world to renounce its enjoyments, we muft not endure the one on the low principle of its being inevitable, nor in flying from the other muft we retire to the contemplation of our own virtues* n 2 We 2 63 THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT We muft not with a fullen intrepidity, col¬ led; ourfelves into a centre of our own ; into a cold apathy to all without, and a proud ap¬ probation of all within. We muft not con- trad our fcattered faults into a fort of digni¬ fied felfiftmefs ; nor concentrate our feelings into a proud magnanimity; we muft not adopt an independent reditude. A gloomy ftoicifm is not Chriftian heroifm. A melan- choly non-refiftance is not Chriftian refig- nation. Nor muft we indemnify ourfelves for our outward felf-control by fecret murmurings. We may be admired for our refolution in this inftance, as for our generoftty and difin- tereftednefs in other inftances ; but we de- ferve little commendation for whatever we give up, if we do not give up our own incli¬ nation. It is inward repining that we muft endeavour to reprefs ; it is the difcontent of the heart, the unexpreffed but not unfelt murmur, againft which we muft pray for grace, and ftruggle for refiftance. We muft not fmother our difcontents before others, ' and OF TIIE CHRISTIAN, &C. 2 , 6 a and feed on them in private. It is the hid- den rebellion of the will we mull: fubdue, if we would fubmit as Chriftians. Nor muff we juflify our impatience by faying, that if our affliction did not difqualify us from being ufeful to our families, and active in the fer- vice of God, we could more cheerfully bear it. Let us rather be afflired that it does not difqualify us for that duty which we mod need, and to which God calls us by the very dilqualification. A conftant poflure of defence, again!! tire attacks of our great fpiritual enemy, is a better fecurity than an incidental blowy or even an occafional victory. It is alfo a better preparation for all the occurrences of life. It is not fome fignal act of mortifica¬ tion, but an habitual flate of difcipline which will prepare us for great trials. A foul ever on the watch, fervent in prayer, diligent in felf-infpedtion, frequent in meditation, for¬ tified againfl the vanities of time by repeated views of eternity — all the avenues to fuch a heart will be in a good meafure fhut N 3 againfl 2JO THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT againfl temptation, barred in a great degree againfl the tempter. “ Strong in the Lord and in the power of his might,” it will be enabled to refill the one, to expel the other. To a mind fo prepared, the thoughts of fick- nefs will not be new, for he knows it is the " condition of the battleThe profpedt of death will not be furprifing, for he knows it is its termination. The period is now come when we mull fummon all the fortitude of the rational being, all the refignation of the Chriflian. The principles we have been learning mufl now be made practical. —- The fpeculations we have admired we mufl now realize. All that we have been ftudying was in order to furnifh materials for this grand exigence. All the flrength we have been colle&ing mufl now be brought into a&ion. We mufl now draw to a point all the fcattered arguments, all the feveral motives, all the individual fup- ports, all the cheering promifes of religion. We mufl exemplify all the rules we have given to others ; we mufl embody all the refolutions OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C* 271 refolutions we have formed for ottrfelves; we mu ft reduce our precepts to experience ; we muft pafs from difcourfes on fubmiflion to its exercife; from diifertations on fuffering to fuftaining it. We muft heroically call up the determinations of our better days. We muft recoiled what we have faid of the fup- ports of faith and hope when onr ftrength was in full vigour, when our heart was at eafe, and our mind undifturbed. Let us collect all that remains to us of mental ftrength. Let us implore the aid of holy hope and fervent faith, to fhew that religion is not a beautiful theory but a foul-fuftaining truth. Endeavour without harrafling fcrutiny or diftrefting doubt, to a£t on the prin¬ ciples which your founder judgment for¬ merly admitted. The ftrongeft faith is wanted in the hardeft trials. Under thofe trials, to the confirmed Chriftian the higheft degree of grace is commonly imparted. Impair not that faith on which you refted when your mind was ftrong by fufpedting its validity now it is weak. That which had N 4 your 1 2 J 2 THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT your full alfent in perfect health, which was then firmly rooted in your fpirit, and ground¬ ed in your under {landing, mull not be un¬ fixed by the doubts of an enfeebled reafon and the fcruples of an impaired judgment. You may not now be able to determine on the reafonablenefs of proportions, but you may derive flrong confolation from conclu- fions which were once fully eftablifhed in your mindo The receding Chriftian will confider the natural evil of ficknefs as the confequence and punifhment of moral evil. He will mourn, not only that he fuffers pain, but becaufe that pain is the effed of fin. If man iiad not finned he would not have fufFered. The heaviefl aggravation of his pain is to know that he has deferved it. But it is a counterbalance to this trial to know that our t , « » merciful father has no pleafure in the fuffer - ings of his children, that he chaflens them in love, that he never inflids a flroke which he could fafely fpare \ that he inflids it to purify as well as to punifh, to caution as OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C. 273 as *well as to cure, to improve as well as to chaftife. * ' / ‘ What a fupport in the dreary feafon of ficknefs is it to refled:, that the Captain of our falvation was made perfed through fuff/ ferings ; that if we fuffer with him we fhall alfo reign with him, which implies alfo the reverfe, that if we do not fuffer with him, we fhall not reign with him; that is, if we fuffer merely becaufe we cannot help it, without reference to him, without fuffering for his fake and in his fpirit. If it be not fandified fuffering it will avail but little. We fhall not be paid for having fuffered, as is the creed of too many, but our meetnefs for the kingdom of glory will be increafed if we fuffer according to his will and after his example. He who is brought to fenous refledion by the falutary afflidion of a fick bed, will look back with aftonifhment on his former falfe eflimate of worldly things. Riches ! Beauty! Pleafure! Genius! Fame! —what are they in the eyes of the fick and dying ? n 5 Riches ! 2 74 THE TEMPER and conduct Riches ! Thefe are fo far from affording him a moment’s eafe, that it will be well if no former mifapplication of them aggravate his prefent pains. He feels as if he only wifhed to live that he might henceforth de¬ dicate them to the purpofes for which they were given. Beauty ! What is beauty, he cries, as he confiders his own funk eyes, hollow cheeks, and pallid countenance. He acknowledges with the Pfalmift, that the confuming of beauty is “ the rebuke with which the Al¬ mighty corre&s man for fin.” Genius ! What is it ? Without religion genius is only a lamp on the gate of a Pa¬ lace. It may ferve to caft a gleam of light on thofe without, while the inhabitant fits in darknefs. Pleasure ! That has not left a trace be¬ hind it. “ It died in the birth, and is not therefore worthy to come into this bill of Mortality*.” * Bifhop Hall. Fame! I OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C. 275 Fame ! Of this his very foul acknowleges the emptinefs. He is aftonifhed how he could ever be fo infatuated as to run after a found, to court a breath, to purfue a fha- dow, to embrace a cloud. Auguftus, afking his friends as they fur rounded his dying bed, if he had afted his part well, on their an- fwering in the affirmative, c?ded pi audit e. But the acclamations of the whole univerfe would rather mock than foothe the dying Chriftian if unfan&ioned by the hope of the divine approbation. He now rates at its juft value that fame which was fo often eclipfed by envy, and which will be fo foon forgotten in death. He has no ambition left but for heaven, where there will be neither envy, death, nor forgetfulnefs. When capable of reflexion, the fick Chriftian will revolve all the fins'and errors of his paft life \ he will humble himfelf for them as fmcerely as if he had never repented of them before ; and implore the divine for- givenefs as fervently as if he did not believe they were long fince forgiven. The remem- n 6 branch 1 2j6 THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT brance of his former offences will grieve him, but the humble hope that they are par¬ doned will fill him u with joy unfpeakable and full of glory.” Even in this date of helpleffnefs he may improve his felf-acquaintance. He may de* te6t new deficiencies in his charader, frefh imperfedions in his virtues. Omiflions will now ftrike him with the force of adual fins. Refignation, which he fancied was fo eafy when only the fufferings of others required it, he now finds to be difficult when called on to pradife it himfelf. He has fometimes wondered at their impatience, he is now humbled at his own. He will not only try to bear patiently the pains he ac¬ tually fuffers, but will recoiled gratefully thofe from which he has been delivered, and which he may have formerly found lefs fup- portable than his prefent fufferings. In the extremity of pain he feels there is no confolation but in humble acquief- cence in the divine will. It may be that he can fray but little, but that little will be fer¬ vent. OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C. 277 vent. He can articulate perhaps not at all, but his prayer is addrelfed to one who fees the heart, who can interpret its language, who requires not words but affe&ions. A pang endured without a murmur, or only fuch an involuntary groan as nature extorts, and faith regrets, is itfelf a prayer. If furrounded with all the accommoda¬ tions of affluence, let him compare his own fituation with that of thoufands, who pro¬ bably with greater merit, and under feverer trials, have not one of his alleviations. When invited to the diftafteful remedy, let him re- fle6: how many perifhing fellow-creatures may be pining for that remedy, to whom it might be reflorative, or who, fancying that it might be fo, fuffer additional diftrefs from their inability to procure it. In the intervals of feverer pain he will turn his few advantages to the bell account. He will make the moll of every Ihort refpite. He will patiently bear with little difappoint- ments, little delays, with the awkwardnefs or accidental negleft of his attendants, and, thankful <2jS THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT thankful for general kindnefs, he will accept good will inftead of perfection. The fuf- fering Chriftian will be grateful for fmall reliefs, little alleviations, Ihort fnatches of reft. To him abated pain will be pofitive pleafure. The freer ufe of limbs which had nearly loft their activity, will be enjoy¬ ment. Let not the reader who is rioting In all the madnefs of fuperfluous health, think lightly of thefe trivial comforts. Let him not defpife them as not worthy of grati¬ tude, or as not capable of exciting it. He may one day, and that no diftant day, be brought to the fame ftate of debility and pain. May he experience the mercies he now derides, and may he feel higher com¬ forts on fafe grounds! The fufferer has perhaps often regretted that one of the worft effects of ficknefs is the felfifhnefs it too naturally induces. The temptation to this he will refill, by not being exacting and unreafonable in his requisi¬ tions. Through his tendernefs to the feel¬ ings of others, he will be careful not to add to OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C. 279 to their diftrefs by any appearance of dis¬ content. What a lelfon againfl felfifhnefs have we in the conduct of our dying Redeemer ! — It was while bearing his Oofs to the place of execution, that he faid to the forrowing multitude, cc weep not for me, but for your- felves and for your children.”— It was while enduring the agonies of crucifixion that he endeavoured to mitigate the forrows of his mother and of his friend, by tenderly com¬ mitting them to each other’s care. — It was while fuftaining the pangs of dilfolution, that he gave the immediate promife of heaven to the expiring criminal. The Chriflian will review, if able, not only the fms, but the mercies of his paft life. If previoufly accuftomed to unbroken health, he will blefs God for the long period in which he has enjoyed it. If continued in¬ firmity has been his portion, he will feel grateful that he has had fuch a long and gra¬ dual weaning from the world. From either ftate he will extrad confolation. If pain be new. 280 the Temper and conduct new, what a mercy to have hitherto efcaped it! If habitual, we bear more eafily what we have borne long. He will review his temporal bleflings and deliverances; his domeftic comforts, his Chriflian friendships. Among his mercies his now “ purged eyes,” will reckon his dif¬ ficulties, his forrows and trials. A new and heavenly light will be thrown on that paf- fage, “ it is good for me that I have been affli&ed.” It feems to him as if hitherto, he \ had only heard it with the hearing of his ear, but now his “ eye feeth it.” If he be a real chriflian and has had enemies, he will always have prayed for them, but now he will be thankful for them. He will the more earneftly implore mercy for them as inflru- ments which have helped to fit him for his prefent flate. He will look up with holy gratitude to the great Phyfician, who by a divine chemiftry in mixing up events, has made that one unpalatable ingredient, at the bitternefs of which he once revolted, the very means by which all other things have worked 28-1 OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C. worked together for good; had they worked feparately they would not have worked effi- cacioufly. Under the mod fevere vifitation, let us compare, if the capacity of comparing be allowed us, our own fufferings with the cup which our Redeemer drank for our fakes; drank to avert the divine difpleafure from us. Let us purfue the comparative view of our condition with that of the Son of God. He was deferted in his mod trying hour ; defert- ed probably by thofe whofe limbs, fight, life, he had redored, whofe fouls he had come to fave. We are furrounded by un¬ wearied friends ; every pain is mitigated by fympathy, every want not only relieved but prevented ; the “ afking eye ” explored; the inarticulate found underdood; the ill- exprelfed wiih anticipated; the but-fufpected want fupplied. When our fouls are u ex¬ ceeding forrowful,” our friends participate our forrow; when dedred “ to watch ” with us, they watch not “ one hour 55 but many, not falling afleep, but both flefli and fpirit 282 THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT fpirit ready and willing ; not forfaking us in our “ agony” but fympathizing where they cannot relieve. Befides this, we muff acknowlege with the penitent malefa&or, “ we indeed fuffer juftly but this man hath done nothing amirs.” We fuffer for our offences the inevitable penalty of our fallen nature. He bore our fins and thofe of the whole human race. Hence the heart-rending interrogation, “ is it nothing to you all ye that pafs by ? Behold and fee if there be any forrow like unto my forrow, which is done unto me, wherewith the Lord hath affiided me in the day of his fierce anger.” How cheering in this forlorn ftate to re¬ flect that he not only fuffered for us then, but is fympathizing with us now; that “ in all our afflictions he is afflicted.” The ten- dernefs of the fympathy feems to add a value to the facrifice, while the vaftnefs of the facrince endears the fympathy by enno¬ bling it. If OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C, 283 If the intellectual powers be mercifully preferved, how many virtues may now be brought into exercife which had either lain dormant or been confidered as of inferior worth in the profperous day of activity. The Chriflian temper indeed feems to be that part of religion which is more peculiarly to be exercifed on a fick bed. The paflive virtues, the lead: brilliant, but the moil dif¬ ficult, are then particularly called into ac¬ tion. To fuffer the whole will of God on the tedious bed of languifhing, is more trying than to perform the moll fhining exploit on the theatre of the world. The hero in the field of battle has the love of fame as well as patriotifm to fupport him. He knows that the witneffes of his valour will be the heralds of his renown. The martyr at the flake is divinely flrengthened. Extraordinary grace is imparted for extraordinary trials. His pangs are exquifite but they are fhort. The crown is in fight, it is almofl in polTeilion. By faith “ he fees the heavens opened. He fees 284 THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT fees the glory of God, and Jefus {landing at the right hand of God.” But to be flrong in faith, and patient in hope, in a long and lingering ficknefs, is an example of more general ufe and ordinary application, than even the fublime heroifm of the martvr. j The ficknefs is brought home to our feel¬ ings, we fee it with our eyes, we apply it to our hearts. Of the martyr we read, indeed, with aftonilhment: Our faith is {lengthen¬ ed, and our admiration kindled \ but we read it without that fpecial appropriation, without that peculiar reference to our own circum- ftances, which we feel in cafes that are likely to apply to ourfelves. With the dying friend we have not only a feeling of pious tender- nefs, but there is alfo a community of inte- refts. The certain convi&ion that his cafe muft foon be our own, makes it our own now. Self mixes with the focial feeling, and the chriflian death we are contemplating we do not fo much admire as a prodigy, as propofe for a model. To the martyr’s Hake we feel that we are not likely to be brought. To OP THE CHRISTIAN, &C. 285 To the dying bed we muft inevitably come. Accommodating his flate of mind to the nature of his difeafe, the dying chriftian will derive confolation in any cafe, either from thinking how forcibly a fudden ficknefs breaks the chain which binds him to the world, or how gently a gradual decay unties it. He will feel and acknowlege the necef* fity of all he differs to wean him from life. He will admire the divine goodnefs which commifllons the infirmities of ficknefs to di¬ ved: the world of its enchantments, and to ft rip death of fome of its mod: formidable terrors. He feels with how much lefs reluc¬ tance we quit a body exhaufted by differing than one in the vigour of health. Sicknefs, inftead of narrowing the heart, its word: effect on an unrenewed mind, en¬ larges his. He earneflly exhorts thofe around him to defer no a£t of repentance, no labour of love, no deed of juftice, no work of mercy, to that flate of incapacity in which he now lies. 4 How £§6 THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT How many motives has the Chriflian to reftrain his murmurs! Murmuring offends God both as it is injurious to his goodnefs and as it perverts the occafion which God has now afforded for giving an example of patience. Let us not complain that we have nothing to do in ficknefs, when we are fur- jiifhed with the opportunity as well as called to the duty of refignation ; the duty indeed is always ours, but the occafion is now more eminently given. Let us not fay even in this depreffed flate that we have nothing to be thankful for. If fleep be afforded, let us acknowlege the blefling; if wearifome nights be our portion, let us remember they are “ appointed to us.” Let us mitigate the grievance of watchfulnefs by confidering it as a fort of prolongation of life ; as the gift of more minutes granted for meditation and prayer. If we are not able to employ it to either of thefe purpofes, there is a frefh oc¬ cafion for exercifmg that refignation which will be accepted for both. If OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C. a87 If reafon be continued, yet with fuffer- ings too intenfe for any religious duty, the fick chriftian may take comfort that the bu- finefs of life was accomplilhed, before the ficknefs began. He will not be terrified if duties are fuperfeded, if means are at an end, for he has nothing to do but to die. — This is the ad for which all other ads, all other duties, all other means, will have been pre¬ paring him. He who has long been habi¬ tuated to look death in the face, who has often anticipated the agonies of diffolving nature; who has accuftomed himfelf to pray for fupport under them, will now feel the blefled effed of thofe petitions which have long been treafured in heaven. To thofe anticipatory prayers he may perhaps now owe the humble confidence of hope in this inevitable hour. Habituated to the contem¬ plation, he will not, at leafl, have the dread¬ ful additions of furprize and novelty to ag¬ gravate the trying fcene. It has long been familiar to his mind, though hitherto it could only 288 THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT only operate with the inferior force of a pict¬ ure to a reality. He will not however have fo much feared his imagination by the terrors of death, as invigorated his fpirit by looking beyond them to the bleffednefs which fol¬ lows. Faith will not fo much dwell on the opening grave as fhoot forward to the glo¬ ries to which it leads. The hope of heaven will foften the pangs which lie in the way to it. On heaven then he will fix his eyes ra¬ ther than on the awful intervening circum- ftances. He will not dwell on the flruggle which is for a moment, but on the crown which is for ever. He will endeavour to think lefs of death than of its conqueror ; lefs of the grave than of its fpoiler ; lefs of the body in ruins than of the fpirit in glory; lefs of the darknefs of his clofing day than of the opening dawn of immortality. In fome brighter moments, when viewing his eternal redemption drawing nigh, as if the freed fpirit had already burfl its prifon walls, as if the manumiflion had actually taken place, he is ready exultingly to ex¬ claim, OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C. 289 claim u my foul is efcaped, the fnare is broken, and I am delivered.” If he ever inclines to wifh for recovery it is only that he may glorify God by his future life, more than he has done by the pail; but as he knows the deceitfulnefs of his heart, he is not certain that this would be the cafe, and he therefore does not wifh to live. Yet fhould he be reftored, he humbly refolves, in a better ftrength than his own, to dedicate his life to the reftorer. But he fufFers not his thoughts to dwell on life. His retrofpe&ions are at an end. His profpe&s as to this world are at an end alfo. He commits himfelf unrefervedly to his heavenly Father. But though fecure of the port he may ftill dread the paflage. The Chriflian will rejoice that his reft is at hand, the man may fhudder at the unknown tranfit. If faith is ftrong, nature is weak. Nay in this awful exigence ftrong faith is fometimes rendered faint through the weaknefs of nature. VOL. Ilr O At ago THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT At the moment when his faith is looking round for every additional confirmation, he may rejoice in thofe bleiTed certainties, thofe glorious realizations which fcripture affords. He may take comfort that the ffrongeft at- teftations given by the apoftles to the reality of the heavenly ftate were not con¬ jectural. They, to ufe the words of our Saviour, fpake what they knew and teftified what they had feen. “ I reckon ” fays St. Paul, “ that the afflictions of this prefent life are not worthy to be compared with the glory that fhall be revealed.” He faid this after he had been caught up into the third heaven ; after he had beheld the glories to which he alludes. The Author of the Apocalyptic vifion having defcribed the in¬ effable glories of the new Jerufalem, thus puts new life and power into his defcription. — ct I John faw thefe things and heard them.” The power of diftinguiffling Objects in- creafes with our approach to them. The Chriftian 291 OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C. Ghriftian feels that he is entering on a ftate where every care will ceafe, every fear vanifh, every defire be fulfilled, every fin. be done away, every grace perfected. Where there will be no more temptations to refill, no more pafiions to fubdue; no more infenfi* bility to mercies, no more deadnefs in fer- vice, no more wandering in prayer, no more forrows to be felt for himfelf, nor tears to be flied for others. He is going where his de¬ votion will be without languor, his love without alloy, his doubts certainty, his expe&ation enjoyment, his hope fruition. All will be perfect, for God will be all in all. From God he knows that he fhall derive immediately all his happinefs. It will no longer pals through any of thofe channels which now fully its purity. It will be offered him through no fecond caufe which may fail, no intermediate agent which may deceive, no uncertain medium which may difappoint* The felicity is not only certain but perfect, * mot only perfed, but eternal. o 2 As 292 THE TEMPER AND CONDUCT As he approaches the land of realities, the Ihadows of this earth ceafe to interefl or mif- lead him. The films are removed from his eyes. Objects are ftripped of their falfe luftre. Nothing that is really little any longer looks great. The mills of vanity are difperfed. Every thing which is to have an end appears fmall, appears nothing. Eternal things aflume their proper magnitude — for he beholds them in the true point of vifion. He has ceafed to lean on the world for he has found it both a reed and a fpear; it has failed and it has pierced him. He leans not on himfelf, for he has long known his weak* nefs. He leans not on his virtues, for they can do nothing for him. Had he no better refuge he feels that his fun would fet in dark- nefs; his life clofe in defpair. But he knows in whom he has trulted, and therefore knows not what he fhould fear. He looks upwards with holy but humble confidence to that great Shepherd, who having long fince condu&ed him into t green OF THE CHRISTIAN, &C. 293 green paftures, having by his rod corrected, and by his ftaff fupported him, will, he humbly trufts, guide him through the dark valley of the ftiadow of death, and fafely land him on the peaceful fhores of everlaft- ing reft. THE END. Strahan and Prefton, Printers-Street, London. I, \ € I N / ) ‘‘ * ♦ r . t I « "l \ V \ } • 1 t \ I l I o' * v . t