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ONE HUNDRED
SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS
FOR THE
UNITARIAN FAITH.
THIRD EDITION.
PRINTED FOR THE
American Unitarian Association.
BOSTON,
ISAAC R. BUTTS AND CO.
PRINTERS TO THE AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION,
1826 .
Price 2 Cents .
Digitized by the Internet Archive
/
in 2018 with funding from
University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign
https://archive.org/details/unitariantracts 1826 amer
SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS.
*1
Unitarian Christians believe Jesus Christ to be the
Son of God and the Saviour of men. They believe in the
divinity of his mission and in the divinity of his doctrines.
They believe that the Gospel, which he proclaimed, came
from God ; that the knowledge it imparts, the morality
it enjoins, the spirit it breathes, the acceptance it pro¬
vides, the promises it makes, the prospects it exhibits,
the rewards it proposes, the punishments it threatens, all
proceed from the great Jehovah. But they do not be¬
lieve, that Jesus Christ is the Supreme God. They
believe that, though exalted far above all other created
~ intelligences, he is a being distinct from, inferior to, and
dependent upon, the Father Almighty. For this belief
they urge, among other reasons, the following arguments
from the Scriptures.
I. Because Jesus Christ is represented by the sacred
writers to be as distinct a being from God the Father as
one man is distinct from another. “It is written in your
law, that the testimony of two men is true. I am one
who bear witness of myself, and the Father that sent me
beareth witness of me,'’ John viii, 17, 18.
4
SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS.
28
II. Because he not only never said that himself was
God, but, on the contrary, spoke of the Father , who sent
him as God, and as the only God. “ This is life eternal,
that they might know Thee the 07ily true God , and Jesus
Christ whom thou hast sent,” John xvii, 3. This lan¬
guage our Saviour used in solemn prayer to u his Father
and our Father.”
III. Because he is declared in unnumbered instances,
to be the Son of God. “ And lo, a voice from heaven,
saving, this is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased,”
Matth. iii, 17. Can a son be coeval and the same with
his father ?
IV. Because he is styled the Christ , or the anointed of
God. {t God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy
Ghost and with power,” Acts x, 33. Is he who anoints the
same with him who is anointed ?
V. Because he is represented as a Priest. <£ Con¬
sider the * * * high Priest of our profession, Christ
Jesus,” Heb. iii, 1. The office of a priest is to minister
to God. Christ, then, as a priest, cannot be God.
t
VI. Because Christ is Mediator between the “ One
God,” and “ men.” “ For there is one God, and one Me¬
diator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus,” 1
Tim. ii, 5.
VII. Because as the Saviour of men, he was sent by the
Father. “ And we have seen and do testify that the Fath¬
er sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world,” 1 John
iv, 14.
VIII. Because he is an apostle , appointed by God.
“ Consider the apostle, * * * Christ Jesus, who was faith¬
ful to him that appointed him,” Heb. iii, 1,2.
29
SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS.
5
IX. Because Christ is represented as our intercessor
with God. “ It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is
risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who
also maketh inter cession for us Rom. viii, 34.
X. Because the head of Christ is God. “ I would
have you know, that the head of every man is Christ ;
and the head of the woman is the man ; and the head of
Christ is God” 1 Cor. xi, 3.
XI. Because in the same sense, in which we are said
to belong to Christ, Christ is said to belong to God. “ And
ye are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s,” 1 Cor. iii, 23.
XII. Because Christ says, “ My Father is greater than
all,” John x, 29. Is not the Father, then, greater than
the Son?
XIII. Because he affirms, in another connexion, and
without the least qualification, “My Father is greater than
John xiv, 28.
XIV. Because he virtually denies that he is God, when
he exclaims, “ why callest thou me good? There is none
good but one, that is God,” Matth. xix, 17.
XV. Because our Saviour, after having said, “ I and
my Father are one,” gives his disciples distinctly to un¬
derstand that he did not mean, one in substance , equal in
power and glory, but one only in affection and design,
&c. as clearly appears from the prayer he offers to his
Father in their behalf,—“that they all may be one; as
thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee , that they also may
be one in us,” John xvii, 21.
XVI. Because the Father is called the God of Christ,
as he is the God of Christians. “Jesus saith unto her,
vol. i. 1*-
6 SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS. 30
* * * go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend un¬
to my Father and your Father ; and to my God and your
God ,” John xx, 17.
XVII. Because an apostle says of God, in distinction
from the “ Lord Jesus Christ,” that He is the “ only Po¬
tentate/’ and that He “ only hath immortality,” 1 Tim.
vi, 15, 16.
XVIII. Because it is the express declaration of the
same apostle, that the Father is the one God , and there
is none other . “ Though there be that are called Gods,
whether in heaven or in earth, (as there be gods many,
and lords many,) yet to us there is but one God , the Father ,
of whom are all things,” 1 Cor. viii, 5, 6.
XIX Because the power which Christ possessed
was, as himself affirmed, given to him. “ All power is
given unto me,” &x, Matth. xxviii, 18.
XX. Because he positively denies himself to be the
author of his miraculous works, but refers them to the
Father , or the holy spirit of God. “ The Father that
dwelleth in me, he doeth the works,” John xiv, 10. “If
I cast out devils by the spirit of Godf &c, Matth. xii,
28.
XXI. Because he distinctly states, that these works
bear witness, not to his own power , but that the Father
had sent him , John v, 36.
XXII. Because he expressly affirms, that the works
were done, not in his own, but in his FatheFs name , John
x, 25.
XXIII. Because he asserts, that “ him hath God the
Father sealed i. e. to God the Father he was indebted
for his credentials, John vi, 27.
31 SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS. 7
XXIV. Because he declares, that he is not the author
of his own doctrine. “ My doctrine is not mine , but his
that sent me,” John vii, 16, 17.
XXV. Because he represents himself as having been
instructed by the Father. “ As my Father hath taught me,
I speak these things,” John viii, 28.
XXVI. Because he refers invariably to the Father -as
the origin of the authority by which he spoke and acted,
“ The Father hath given to the Son authority,” &,c.
John v, 26, 27.
XXVII. Because he acknowledges his dependence on
his heavenly Father for example and direction in all his
doings. “ The Son can do nothing of himself, but what
he seeth the Father do,” John v, 19. “ The Father lov-
eth the Son, and sheweth him all things, that himself
doeth,” John v, 20.
XXVIII. Because he says, “ I seek not mine own
glory; but I honor my Father ,” John viii, 49, 50.
XXIX. Because he declares, “ if I honor myself, my
honor is nothing ; it is my Father that honoreth me,” John
viii, 54.
XXX. Because an apostle declares, that in Christ
dwelt all fulness, because it so pleased the Father, Col. i, 19.
XXXI. Because Christ is uniformly represented in
the scriptures, not as the primary , but the intermediate,
cause of all things relating to our salvation. One God,
the Father, of whom are ail things, and we in him ; and
one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things, and we by
himf 1 Cor. viii, 6.
XXXII. Because he declares, “ I am not come of
myself,” into the world, “for I proceeded forth and
8
SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS.
32
came from God,’ : John viii. 42, vii, 28. “ Jesus knowing
*** that he came from God and went to God &lc, John
xiii, 3.
XXX T II. Because he affirms, that he had not the dis¬
posal of the highest places in his own kingdom. u To sit
Gn mv right hand and on my left is not mine to give , but
it shall be given to them for whom it is prepared of my
Father Matth. xx, 23.
XXXIV. Because our Saviour, referring his disciples
to a future time, when they would understand more ac¬
curately concerning him, expressly declares that then they
would know him to be entirely dependent upon the Father.
“ When ye have lifted up the Son of man, [i. e. cru¬
cified him,] then shall ye know that 1 am he, [i. e. the
Messiah,] and that Ido nothing of myself; but as my Fath¬
er hath taught me, '1 speak these things,” John viii, 28.
XXXV. Because our Saviour always professed to
have no will of his own ; but to be ever entirely guided
and governed by the will of his heavenly Father. “ For
I came down from heaven, not to do mine own will, but •
the will of him that sent me,” John vi. 38.
XXXVI. Because he expressly denies that he is pos¬
sessed of the divine attribute of independent existence.
“ As the living Father hath sent me, and / live by the
Father .” &c, John vi, 57.
XXXVII. Because he expressly disclaims the pos¬
session of the divine attribute of underived existence. “ As
the Father hath life in himself, so hath he given to the
Son to have lhe in himself,” John v, 26.
XXXVIII. Because he positively denies, that he is
possessed of the divine attribute of omnipotence. “ I can
of mine own seif do nothing,” John v, 30-
33
9
SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS.
*
XXXIX. Because he expressly disclaims the possess¬
ion of divine attribute of omniscience. “But of that
day, and that hour, knoweth no man, no, not the angels
which are in heaven, neither the Son , but my Father onlyF
Matt. xxiv. Mark xiii, 32.
XL. Because Christ is said in the Scriptures to have
been “ tempted of the devil f Matth. iv, 1 . But “ God can¬
not be tempted with evil/’
XLI. Because it is related of our Saviour, that “ he
continued all night in prayer to God,” Luke vi, 12. Why
should Christ thus pray, if he himself were God 1
XLIL Because, in presence of a numerous company
before the resurrection of Lazarus, he gave thanks to the
Father for having heard him . “ Father, I thank thee
that thou hast heard me, and I knew that thou hearest
me always,” John xi, 41, 42.
XLIII. Because Jesus besought his Father to glorify
him . “ And now, O Father, glorify thou me with thyself,
with the glory which I had with thee before the world
was,” John xvii, 5. The being who prayed to God to
glorify him, cannot be God.
XLIV. Because he implored that, if it were possible,
the bitter cup might pass from him, adding, “ neverthe¬
less, not as I will, but as thou wilt,” Matth. xxvi, 39.
XLV. Because he said, “ Mv God, my God, why hast
thou forsaken me 1” Matth. xxvii, 46. Can he who utter-
ed this be the supreme God 1
XLVI. Because he never paid his adorations to him¬
self the Son, nor to the Holy Ghost, as he should have
done, had the Son and the Holy Ghost been God ; but
always to the Father.
34
i 0 SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS.
#-
XLVII. Because he never instructed his disciples to
worship himself or the Holy Ghost , but the Father , and
the Father only. “ When ye pray, say, our Father
which art in heaven/ 5 Luke xi, 2. “ In that day. ye shall
ask me nothing. Whatsoever ye ask of the Father in my
name,'’ &c, John xvi, 23. “ The hour cometh and now
is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in
spirit and in truth ; for the Father seeketh such to worship
him,” John iv, 23.
XLVIII. Because it was not the practice of the apos¬
tles to pay religious homage to Christ, but to God the
Father through Christ. “ I thank God through Jesus
Christ," Rom. vii, 25. “ To God only wise, be glory
through Christ,' Rom. xvi, 27. “ I bow my knees unto
the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," Eph. iii, 14.
XLIX. Because St Peter, immediately after being fill¬
ed with the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost, thus
addressed the Jews ; “ Ye men of Israel, hear these
words ; Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of God among
you, by miracles, and wonders and signs, which God did by
him in the midst of you, as ye yourselves also know ;
him, being delivered by the determinate counsel and fore¬
knowledge of God, ye have taken, and by wicked hands
have crucified and slain ; whom God hath raised upf
&c, Acts ii, 22—24.
L. Because St Paul expressly states, that “ all things
are of God , who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus
Christ,” 2 Cor. v, 18.
LI. Because the same apostle gives “ thanks to God ,
who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ,”
1 Cor. xv, 57
35
SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS.
li
LII. Because it is said, that it is “ to the glory of God
the Father ,” that “ eve'ry tongue should confess that Jesus
Christ is Lord/’ Phil, ii, 11.
LIII. Because the Scriptures affirm, that “ Christ
glorified not himself to be made a high priest, but He
[glorified him] who said unto him, thou art my Son, this
day have I begotten thee,” Heb. v, 5.
LIV. Because it is expressly asserted, that God gave
to Christ the Revelation which was made to the author
of the Apocalypse, Rev. i, 1.
LV. Because an apostle speaks of Christ, only as the
image of God. “ Who is the image of the invisible God,”
Col. i, 15. 2 Cor. iv, 4. It would be absurd to call any
one his own image.
LVI. Because Christ is stated to be 46 the first horn
of every creature Col. i, 15.
LVII. Because he is said to be “ the beginning of the
creation of God,” Rev. iii, 14.
LVIII. Because the Scriptures affirm, in so many
words, that “ Jesus was made a little lower than the
angels,” Heb. ii, 9. Can God become lower than his
creatures ?
LIX. Because Peter declares that, “ Christ received
from God the Father honour arid glory , when there came
such a voice to him from the excellent glory, this is my
beloved Son,” &c. 2 Peter i, 17.
LX. Because it is represented as necessary that the
Saviour of mankind should “ he made like unto his breth¬
ren f Heb. ii, 17.
LXI. Because, in the Epistle to the Hebrews, Christ
is compared with Moses in a manner that would be impi¬
ous, if he were the Supreme God. “ For this man
12
SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS
36
[Christ] was counted worthy of more glory than Moses
inasmuch,’* &c, Heb. iii,3.
LXII. Because he is represented as being the servant ,
the chosen , the beloved of God, and the recipient of God's
Spirit. “ Behold my servant, whom I have chosen, in
whom mv soul is well pleaded ; I will put my spirit upon
him/' &c. Matth. xii, 18.
LXIII. Because he himself expressly declares that, it
was in consequence of his doing what pleased the Father 9
that the Father was with him, and did not leave him alone.
“ He that sent me is with me; the Father hath not left
me alone, for I do always those things that please him,”
John viii, 29.
LX1V. Because he is said to have “ increased in wis¬
dom, and in favour with God and man/ Luke ii, 52.
LXV. Because he speaks of himself as one w r ho had
received commands from the Father. “ The Father, who
sent me, he gave me a commandment,” John xii, 49.
LX VI. Because he is represented as obeying the
Father, and as having been “ obedient unto death,” Phil,
ii, 8. Even as the Father said unto me, so I speak*
John xii, 50. “ I have kept my Father’s command¬
ments,” John xv, 10.
LXV1I. Because Christ “ learned obedience by the
things which he suffered f and through sufferings was
made perfect by God , Heb. v, 8 ; ii, 10.
LXV HI. Because he is spoken of in the Scriptures
as the first born among many brethren , Rom. viii, 29.
Has God brethren ?
LXIX. Because Christ calls every one, who obeys
God, his brother. “ W hosoever shall do the will of my
Father in heaven, the same is my brother , Matth. xii, 50.
37
SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS.
13
LXX. Because he offers to the faithful the like dis¬
tinction and honour that himself has with the Father. “ To
him that overcometh, will I grant to sit with me in my
throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with
my Father in his throne,” Rev. iii, 21.
LXXI. Because God , in the latter ages, hath spoken
by his Son , and appointed him heir of all things, Heb. i, 2.
LXXII. Because Christ is styled the first begotten of
the dead , Rev. i, 5.
LXXIII. Because it is declared that God raised him
from the dead. “ This Jesus hath God raised up, where¬
of we are all witnesses,” Acts ii, 32.
LXX1V. Because God poured out upon the Apostles
the Holy Spirit, through Jesus Christ , Tit. iii, 6.
LXXV. Because the reason, assigned for the Holy
Spirit not having been received earlier, is, that Jesus was
not then glorified. “ The Holy Ghost was not yet given,
because that Jesus was not yet glorified,” John vii, 39.
LXXVI. Because it is affirmed that Christ was exalt¬
ed by God to be a Prince and a Saviour, Acts v, 31.
LXXVII. Because God made that same Jesus, who
was crucified, both Lord and Christ, Actsii, 36.
LXXVIII. Because God gave him a name which is
above every name, Phil, ii, 9.
LXXIX. Because Christ was ordained of God to be
the judge of quick and dead, Acts x, 42.
LXXX. Because God will judge the secrets of men
by Jesus Christ, Rom. iii, 16.
LXXXI. Because all judgment is committed to Christ
by the Father , John v, 22.
LXXXII. Because our Saviour grounds the impor¬
tance of his judgment solely upon the circumstances, that
vol. i. 2
14
SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS.
38
it is not exclusively his own judgment, which he pro¬
nounces, but that of the Father who sent him. “If I
judge, my judgment is true ; for I am not alone, but /
and the Father that sent me,” John viii, 16.
LXXXIII. Because it is said, that when he was re¬
ceived up into heaven, he “ sat on the right hand of Godf
Mark xvi, 19.
LXXXIV. Because St Paul affirms, that Christ, even
since his ascension, “ liveth unto God,” and “ liveth by the
power of God,” Rom. vi, 10. 2 Cor. xiii, 4.
LXXXV. Because it is affirmed of Christ, that “ when
all things shall be subdued under him, then shall the Son
also himself be subject unto him that put all things un¬
der him, that God may be all in allf 1 Cor. xv, 28.
LXXXVI. Because the Apostle John asserts that
“ no man hath seen God at any time ;” which is not true,
if Christ were God.
LXXXVII. Because, in the prophecies of the O. T.
that relate to Christ, he is spoken of as a being distinct
from and inferior to God, Deut. xviii, 15. John i, 45.
LXXXVIII. Because the Jews never expected, that
any other than a being distinct from and inferior to God,
was to be their Messiah, and yet there is no evidence
that our Saviour ever so much as hinted to them that
this expectation was erroneous.
LXXXIX. Because it does not appear from the
Scriptures, that the Jews, except in two instances, ever
opposed our Saviour on the ground that he pretend¬
ed to be God or equal with God; whereas, had it been
his custom to assume such identity or equality, in his
conversation with a people so strongly attached to the
doctrine of the divine unity , he would have found him-
39
SCRIPTURAL ARGUMENTS.
15
self involved in a perpetual controversy with them on
this point, some traces of which must have appeared in
the N. T.
XC. Because in these two instances , when charged,
in the one case, with making himself God, and in the
other, with making himself equal with God, he posi¬
tively denies the charges. In reply to the charge of
assuming to be equal with God , he says immediately,
u The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth
the Father do and directly after, “ I can of my mine
own self do nothing,” John v, 19, 30. In answer to the
charge of making himself God , he appeals to the Jews,
in substance, thus ; Your own Scriptures call Moses a
god, and your magistrates gods ; I am surely not inferior
to them, yet I did not call myself God, but only Son of
God, John x, 34, 35, 36.
XCI. Because, had his immediate disciples believed
him to be the Almighty, would they have been so familiar
with him, have argued with him, betrayed him, denied him,
fled from him, and left him to be dragged to the cross?
XCII. Because the Apostles, after they had been
filled with the Holy Ghost on the day of pentecost,
did not preach that Christ was God ; but preached
what was altogether inconsistent with such a doctrine ;
Acts ii, 22 ; xiii, 23 ; xvii, 3, 31 ; xxii, 8.
XCIII. Because there is no evidence to prove, that the
first converts to Christianity ever incurred the imputation
of idolatry from the Jews, as they must have done, had
they believed and taught that the Son, as well as the
Father , is Jehovah ; while it is notorious that this impu¬
tation has been among the most common of the Jewish
scriptural arguments.
40
16
reproaches against Christians, since the Trinity became
a doctrine of the church.
XCIV. Because there are, in the N. T. seventeen pas¬
sages, wherein the Father is styled one or only God, while
there is not a single passage in which the Son is so styled,
XCV. Because there are 320 passages, in which the
Father is absolutely, and by way of eminence, called God;
while there is not one in which the Son is thus called.
XCVI. Because there are 105 passages, in which the
Father is denominated God, with peculiarly high titles and
epithets , whereas the Son is not once so denominated.
XCVII. Because there are 90 passages, wherein it is
declared that all prayers and praises ought to be offered
to Him and that every thing ought to be ultimately di¬
rected to his honour and glory ; while of the Son no such
declaration is ever made.
XCV III. Because, of 1300 passages in the N. T.
wherein the word God is mentioned, not one necessarily
implies the existence of more than one person in the
Godhead, or that this one is any other than the Father .
XCIX. Because the passages, wherein the Son is de¬
clared, positively , or by the clearest implication, to be
subordinate to the Father, deriving his being from Him , re¬
ceiving from Him his divine power , and acting in all things
wholly according to His will , are in number above 300.
C. Because in a word, the supremacy of the Father,
and the inferiority of the Son, is the simple unembarrass¬
ed , and current doctrine of the Bible ; whereas, that of
their equality or identity is clothed in mystery, encum¬
bered with difficulties, and dependent, at the best, upon
few passages for support.
HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
By EDMUND Q. SEWALL.
THIRD EDITION.
PRINTED FOR THE
American sanitarian Association.
BOSTON,
PRINTED BY ISAAC R. BUTTS AND CO.
1826 .
Price 5 Cents.
DISCOURSE.
*
Ecclesiastes vii. 29.
Lo ! this only have I found., that God hath made man upright;
but they have sought out many inventions.
It is obvious that the term “ man” occurs here in its
generic sense, denoting the race collectively. The word
rendered “ upright” may with more precision be trans¬
lated “ right.” It implies no qualities positively virtuous,
but simply the absence of all obliquity. And the whole
passage conveys this important sentiment, God hath made
man right ; with a proper nature, possessing such powers
as are requisite in the place he fills, and for all the de¬
signs of his being. When we begin to live there is
nothing in our moral frame which is itself wrong, or must
necessarily produce sin. Whatever be the amount of
wickedness in the characters of men, it is not the
proper fruit of the human nature, but results entirely
from a voluntary abuse and perversion of that nature.
This doctrine is opposed to some opinions commonly
inculcated on the subject of man’s condition, but not op¬
posed to Scripture ; not opposed to facts, as they lie
around us in society ; not opposed to conscience and to
reason. From each of these sources are drawn the ar-
4
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY*
44
guments we employ for its support. The discussion I
propose on this occasion will hear chiefly on the point of
native hereditary depravity , which gives us a false ac¬
count of the cause of that moral evil which is seen and
felt in the world. But before I enter on this main de¬
sign, let me suggest a few remarks on another branch of
the general subject ; I mean, total depravity , which gives
us as false a view of the degree of sin found among men,
as the other does of its origin. The two dogmas are
inseparable in the popular notions of human character,
and both have a bad tendency so far as they operate
without modification from other principles.
If the word “total** have any meaning in the phrase
“ total depravity,” it excludes every good feeling, desire,
purpose, and action, and makes the character of mankind
consist solely of bad dispositions, passions, and deeds.
To be totally depraved is to he evil in every part, and evil
always. Where now is the being on the face of the earth,
who has done nothing but sin ; whose every act has been
wicked, and all his thoughts, emotions, and desires, cor¬
rupt ? Where is the man, concerning whom, it is true
that since he was born he has had in his mind nothing-
pure, and in his conduct nothing right ? You cannot find
such a being; this may he the description of a devil, but
not of a man. We may imagine such a sinner, but we
never saw one. We are greatly deceived by the popular
theological division of our race into two classes, between
which is drawn a line straight and inflexible, as between
two distinct orders of beings having no alliance, and un¬
able to pass from one to the other. That division is a
mere fiction. That line is nowhere apparent among the
45
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
5
real characters which we meet and mingle with on the
stage of life. The world contains no such beings as the
saints and sinners described in many sermons and painted
in many tracts and magazines. They are as unlike the
actual men and women around us, as if the one were
described as having no senses, and the other as having
no souls.
But of what use is any description of mankind which
wants a counterpart in nature and life ? It cannot be
true—for a glance at the world as it is, belies it. Look
abroad for yourselves, brethren, and tell me if you
can discover among the good, one who has ceased to be
frail, and incapable of becoming evil. Take the accounts
which men give you of themselves—take their own judg¬
ments of their own characters—will you conclude that
any are totally holy ? But is it fair to pronounce all who
may be sinners, totally depraved , when you dare not pro¬
nounce all who are saints, totally pure ? There is as
much evidence of a partial depravity in the one case, as
of a partial holiness in the other. There are as many
proofs of a little remaining good in those who pass for
wicked men, as of some remaining corruption in those
reputed pious men. It is as correct to esteem the latter
entirely holy, as to esteem the former entirely depraved.
The fact is, there are no unmixed characters among men.
The best are not perfect in virtue, the worst may still be
capable of a recovery from vice. There are degrees of
goodness, and degrees of sin ; the former ascending from
a very low, to almost angelic virtue, the latter descending
from simple failing to the deepest guilt. How r ever, to my
narrow view it may seem that no vestige of what is good
1 *
VOL I.
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITV.
46
6
remains in some of my fellow-beings, or even that their
capacity of goodness is extinct, yet there is an eye which
discerns more clearly, and may discover symptoms of
reviving health, where all to me wears the aspect of
death. I dare not, I never will say, that there slumbers
not beneath the ruins, on which I gaze with despair, a
spark of virtue, which shall be kindled yet into a celestial
tlame. I leave an abandoned sinner, hopeless of restor¬
ing him myself, but remembering that what is impossible
with man is possible with God. And as to the doctrine
that we are all totally depraved, I must consider it as I
should a proposition which declared that all men w ere
fools, or all men were giants, all men were monsters.
We are not totally any thing whatever, for be the quali¬
ty what it may, there are ten thousand chances that we
have a little of its opposite too. Some are wise ; but
not always, nor in all things. Some are timorous gene¬
rally ; yet on an occasion can be bold as lions. Some
are indolent generally ; yet, for some desired end, will
rouse themselves to the most vigorous activity. Where
nothing is fixed and permanent, but all in progress,
pressing onward, it is rash to attempt nice definitions and
descriptions, for the object may change under your hand.
So it is, to affix such characteristics as denote com¬
pleteness in good or evil, to mutable men. The only
just and true account of human character is that wffiich
represents it as mixed and imperfect in all its forms.
The Scriptures are often quoted to prove the total de¬
pravity of mankind. But there are tw r o very obvious
principles of interpretation, which ought to be applied to
the passages thus employed, and vffiich remove at once
47
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY".
7
all pretence for using them in evidence of such a doc¬
trine.
1. What is declared in universal terms is not always
to be received without limitation. We often affirm ab¬
solutely, and in the most unqualified language, what we
know to be true, only for the most part and with some
exceptions. All books contain more or less examples
of such propositions as the author designs his readers
should understand, not to the full extent of their literal
import, but as general truths. When God was about to
destroy a guilty generation by the deluge, it is recorded,
“ And God looked upon the earth, and behold it was cor¬
rupt, for all flesh had corrupted its way.” “ All flesh” is
a universal term, including every man alive. But there
was, at least, one exception ; for “ Noah found grace in
the eyes of the Lord.” Paul, in his address to the Lys-
trians, says, that “ God had, in times past, suffered all
nations to walk in their own ways.” But he had not so
suffered the Jews, who had enjoyed a revelation and
been subjected to peculiar restraints. John tells the
early converts, “ Ye know all things.” We are compel¬
led by the very nature of the case to put a limitation on
the word “ all,” which reduces the meaning of the pas¬
sage to the bare affirmation, that they knew whatever
they needed as Christians to know. The proposition, as
it stands, ascribes omniscience to them.
In like manner, although some passages of Scripture,
which speak of the degeneracy of mankind at certain
periods, are so expressed, that we might suppose not an
individual remained, who had the least goodness in him.
we learn from sacred history, that there was always a
8
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
48
remnant ot righteous men in periods the most degenerate.
The first chapter of Romans describes the character of
the nations in the darkest colours, and of Gentiles and
Jews affirms, “they are all under sin.” But corrupt as
were the great body of the Jews when Messiah came,
we are made acquainted in the Gospels and Acts with
many excellent characters. Of Simeon we read, “ He
was a just and devout man.” Nathaniel was “ an Israel¬
ite indeed, without guile.” Anna “ served God with alms
and prayers.” The Baptist’s parents “ w r ere righteous
before God, and w T alked in his ordinances blameless.”
Among the Gentiles, the Roman Centurion and Corne¬
lius, with “ devout Greeks not a few, are worthy exam¬
ples and vindicate us in the assertion, that there was,
doubtless, a large portion of society, who had not shared
that depravity wffiich Paul so vividly describes. Indeed,
if you will go over the catalogue of crimes of which he
accused the heathen, you will see that it is utterly im¬
possible for such wickedness to have been universal.
He himself allows us to make an extensive exception,
for he speaks of Gentiles “ wffio did by nature the things
contained in the law.” From Psalm liii. Paul quotes a pas*
sage, and accommodates it to his own description. That
passage applies to men at a particular period, and not to
the race. It is misunderstood for want of a little fair¬
ness and attention ; “ Every one of them is gone back—
they have altogether become filthy—there is none that
doeth good, no, not one.” The persons here intended
w r ere then living or had lived previously. There is no¬
thing which justifies us in including all the human beings
who shall ever live. Besides, not even all that genera-
49
OX HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
9
tion is comprehended ; for it is added immediately after
these words ; “ have all the workers of iniquity no know¬
ledge, who eat up my people ?” It seems, then, there
were some who were good enough to he called God’s
people, in opposition to the workers of iniquity, notwith¬
standing it was affirmed that not one of the children of
men did good, no, not one. If we persist in giving an
absolute acceptance to all general propositions, we shall
get into difficulties from which nothing can relieve us.
There is obviously no justice in our interpreting passages
which speak in the strong language of eastern hyperbole
of the corruption of men, as if they were strict philoso¬
phical statements. We must take these passages as they
were meant to be taken, as vivid representations of a
fact, not exact definitions of a doctrine.
2. The second rule to be applied to those parts of
Scripture, which relate to the moral condition of particu¬
lar persons, communities, or generations, is this ; All
which w r as true of them, may not be true of us ;—we
have been educated with all the benefits of Christian
light, and under the influence of Christian institutions.
It would be false, and no credit to the Gospel, to say
that a very great difference is not perceptible between
Christian countries and others,—a difference, which af¬
fects the whole population of such countries, and not
merely the body of professed believers. Now to take
phrases, employed to represent the moral character of
ancient heathens, and apply them with no modification
to all people of all ages and climes, Christian as well as
Pagan, is unjust to the last degree, if not palpably ab-
syrd. Just so far as we resemble the characters de-
10
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
50
picted in Scripture, the language used respecting them
will convey a fair account of us, and no further.
It is truly astonishing that people do not see this, and
that so many feel obliged to take to themselves a de¬
scription of guilt of which they are not conscious, be¬
cause the description is in the Bible. What a stumbling
block does it throw 7 in the way of simple minds, thus to
bind them down to acknowledge, as their own, a charac¬
ter, the original of which lived some thousand years
ago ! No less than this is done by those who make the
account in the first chapters of Romans, a description of
the human race, or who, from such passages, infer the
doctrine that all men are entirely depraved. Those por¬
tions of Scripture, w T hich, like this, describe in glowing
language the prevalent corruptions of present or past
times, are not to be made the basis of any doctrine re¬
specting human nature itself, or the human character
universally, and in all periods ; we must interpret them
accordingly ; the nature of the case requires and justifies
it. When we have collected into one horrid group, all
the sick, maimed, blind, deaf, decrepid, w r ho crowd the
hospitals or streets of a great city, we have, surely, not
gained materials for a description of its inhabitants. A
traveller, passing through a fine fertile country, would be
deemed mad, if he filled his journal with accounts of the
barren spots which w r ere scattered here and there in his
way, or gave us a grave narrative of the beggars, thieves,
and knaves, whom it was his fortune to encounter, as an
index to the morals of the people. A historian who
should collect a long catalogue of bad princes ; with de¬
scriptions of public calamities, and political mistakes, not
ol
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
11
noticing at all the blessings which followed from the go¬
vernment of good princes, or the numerous prosperous
events of their several reigns, would hardly be respected
as authority. But the history of mankind, their moral
history, demands no less fidelity than this ; and we ought
not to take it from those who have studied men only in
their vices.
But regard the general character of the race as
bad as you may, it is not a beneficial habit to dwell
chiefly on what is evil in it. The individual who does
so, injures himself, and society shares the injury.
Whence has proceeded that chilling scepticism which
confounds all moral distinctions, laughs at virtue and vice
as mere names, and at the goodness apparent in society,
as the silly efforts of fools to cheat each other ? In
many cases, I believe, from this very practice of which
I now complain. Begin by allowing yourself to put the
worst colouring on human actions, habitually to see
things in their evil aspects, and to ascribe what seems
good to doubtful motives, you may soon come to make
no important difference in your opinion, between the best
men and the worst ; and you may end, at last, by dis¬
owning all moral distinctions, that you may sneer alike at
all mankind.—It is worthy of remark, that the most no¬
torious sceptics, the bitterest enemies to Christianity,
are the very men who have laboured most zealously in
the base work of degrading the species. In their writ¬
ings, every good affection is derided ; every pretence to
virtue mocked ; and the noblest actions and sentiments,
resolved into some vile principle. No such lessons on
depravity as they teach ; none so thorough, and none so
i 2
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITV.
52
appalling ; but they are consistent. Having reduced
man to a level with the brutes, they give him brutal
pleasures as his proper good, and a brute’s death as
his proper end.
Besides the danger of causing scepticism, there are
others in the habit of magnifying what is bad in human
character, which ought to put us equally on our guard.
These may he made apparent to any one who has ob¬
served the tendency of excessive feelings, to disease the
mind in all its powers. It cannot be denied that very
serious mischief is occasioned by allowing the sense of
shame and remorse to be too strongly and too long ope¬
rative in cases where there is a natural proneness to
despondence. But there are no instances where a habit
of self-disparagement will not, at length, produce evils
nearly, or quite, as great. And these are sometimes
fatal to the character, where they are not to the present
enjoyment of the individual. Let the constant feeling in
a man’s mind, respecting himself, be such as degrades
him in his own eyes, and you will discover in him that
moral apathy which refuses all exertion, under the plea
that it is useless ; and which has ceased, at once, to
hope and to desire improvement, from an idea that it is
not possible. To strive after moral excellence, one
must retain the consciousness that he is capable of it;
when that is gone, all is lost. Now the morbid habit of
exaggerating one’s own sins, takes away this feeling ;
and a similar effect, in a wider extent, may be produced
by unduly magnifying what is faulty in the character of
mankind generally. Confine a young man of warm
heart, with all that confidence in the professions of oth-
oJ
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
1.3
ers, usual at his age, to the society of persons, profess¬
edly religious, but from whom he shall daily hear the
language of self-abuse, mingled with unsparing censures
of their neighbours,—who shall question sarcastically the
soundness of every apparent virtue, and colour every
fault in the deepest dye,—who, in line, shall habitually
inveigh against human depravity, and set mankind be¬
fore him in their worst possible lights,—and what may you
expect ? If he rely on their statements, or from igno¬
rance be unable to refute them, how must they affect
his mind ? Will they not inspire him with unwonted
jealousy, not only of his own emotions, but of the mo¬
tives of others ? Will they not supplant his generous
confidence by base suspicion ; his disposition to admire,
esteem, and love, by the malignant feelings of abhorrence
and resentment ; his desire of excellence, by doubts of
the reality of all virtue ?
However it may seem to us now, we may be assured
that the habit of looking only at the bad qualities of men,
has a tendency like a constant association Yvith wicked
people. As he who should dwell in the midst of assas¬
sins. knaves, and sharpers, would insensibly acquire a
temper, quite averse to the friendly sympathies, so will
the man whose mind seeks the dark images of guilt for
its common company. He will have their hues reflected
on himself. His respect for others will necessarily be
impaired by contemplating them most often in the light
of depraved beings, adversaries to God and goodness.
His self-respect can hardly be retained with the belief
that he is no better than they. And it would not be
surprising if his permanent disposition should settle into
2
VOL. I.
14
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
54
something resembling the moral apathy, which we have
before traced from a kindred cause.
I have said that society shares the evils of too exclusive
a regard to what is bad in human character ; and it is easi¬
ly shewn. If the doctrine of depravity produced its full,
natural effects, we should be, indeed, “ hateful, and hating
one another social intercouse would be more like the
herding of animals of pr«sy, than the associating of Chris¬
tians. And even its most modified influence has some
such consequences as this supposes. Two men, who look
upon each other as totally corrupt, cannot feel mutual
confidence or affection ; and the pious people, who, with
still stronger emotions, must approach those, whom they
believe the enemies of all they ought to love most, will
not cherish a sentiment kinder than pity, even if they do
not allow themselves in abhorrence towards them. If a
temporary check of benevolent affections will weaken
them ; how can brotherly love exist, with much strength,
in the heart which is daily filled with new bitterness, by
the faith, that nearly all, who might be the objects of
its sympathy, are thoroughly wicked, and so, unworthy
of affection ?
An attentive observer, will, perhaps, see cause to trace
that spirit of exclusion, which erects its high walls in the
vineyard of Christ, and. repels, with such cruelty, the
hand offered from without, and answers the voice of cha¬
rity with the rebuke of bigotry, to this origin. To shut
out from your fellowship those, who are believed to be
excluded from God’s mercy, is not strange ; to hate a
being who is utterly odious, is no more so. And thus,
in learning; the lesson of total depravity, we learn how to
indulge our bad feelings with a good excuse.
55
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
15
Better then,—yes, infinitely better, is it for us all, to
turn away our eyes from the spectacle of guilt, and gaze
intently on the lovelier picture of virtue ; better forget
as much, and as fast as we can, the vices of others, how¬
ever we may preserve the memory of our own ; better
hold up for our imitation the illustrious good, than study,
amid the shades, the totally depraved. In other w T ords,
if we must confine ourselves to either extreme, in our
contemplation of human character, let us choose the best
and not the worst . By too fair an estimate of men, wo
may lose something, perhaps, but it will not be our gen¬
erous affections, our love of excellence, our admiration
for virtue, and the purpose to emulate what we admire.
By dwelling on man’s corruptions only, whatever we may
gain, it will not be a kinder, nor a purer heart. Who
would prefer to have the image of a Judas continually
present to his thoughts, rather than commune at the
lonely hour, with the benignant Jesus ?
I return now, to that part of the common doctrine of
Depravity, which concerns its origin. In this it is main¬
tained that men are born sinners. The vices apparent
in mature life, are traced back to a corrupt nature, and
represented as its proper and necessary fruits. Now,
to such an opinion, we cannot assent, for many strong
reasons.
I. In the first place, it implies an impossibility . Sin
has been defined “ the transgression of the law.” That
law cannot have been transgressed which is not known,
together with the obligations of obedience, and conse¬
quences of disobedience. But we come into life, in total,
blank ignorance, not possessing the knowledge of a sin-
16
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
56
gle substance in nature, much less of the principles of
moral duty. How can we be sinners by birth, when we
are not then conscious even of the power to sin ? Who
can look upon a sleeping infant and say, there slumbers
an enemy of God ; when, upon that helpless creature’s
mind, not even the image of the mother that fosters it.
has, as yet, been impressed, and it has felt no love , far
less hatred ? We shrink instinctively from charging guilt
on a being so evidently innocent ; but this is only shrink¬
ing from truth, if men are born sinners ; for then, every
infant of a day old is as truly depraved, as the criminal
of half a century. Should this seem inadmissible, reject
the doctrine that implies it.
But our opponents urge against all this, that the
corruption of human nature, if not discoverable in
an infant, will certainly be developed as soon as he
becomes capable of moral action at all—and is fairly
inferred from the earliest intelligent conduct. On
what does this inference rest ? From what may we so
confidently draw a conclusion of such extent and im¬
portance ? Does it fairly spring from the indications of
character after the age of infancy ? I ask, then, whether
we ought to draw our conclusions from one side oi the
case, without looking at the other ; and if it be not un¬
just to infer more from the indications of what is bad in
childhood, than from the indications of what is good ?
Let any man produce an instance of a human being, at
that period, who has manifested no other disposition or
propensity than such as are evil; it is impossible. Our
blessed Saviour said, concerning children, “ ot such is
the kingdom of heaven “ Except ye be converted and
become as little children, ye cannot enter the kingdom ”
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
17
') (
The Apostle says, “in malice be ye children. ‘ And
what eye, but one jaundiced with the darkest prejudice,
can have failed to discover, in the conduct of youth,
abundant evidences of purity of heart ? If bad tempers
sometimes appear, yet, let us not make too much of
them, or because of them, underrate the more numerous
proofs of better qualities. I do not hesitate to put it
to any man’s conscience to declare, whether he has not
seen as much that was attractive and amiable, as of the
contrary in children; whether, in all their artless conver¬
sation, their joyous sports, their ardent attachments,
their open, unsuspicious conduct in the presence of their
elders, their sense of shame, when reproved, and their
readiness to forgive the faults of others, he can discover
nothing but the malignity of a heart entirely corrupt ?
I maintain there is, at least, equal reason to infer the ab¬
solute purity and innocence of human nature, from the
indications of disposition in childhood, as to presume the
opposite. And since it will not be denied that the least
sinful portion of every community is its youth ; since the
nearer you approach the fountain, the purer are the
streams ; I know not but we are warranted in believing
that the fountain itself is unpolluted.
If the sinful actions of men at any period of life, are
proofs of a nature originally corrupt, what are we to af¬
firm of Adam’s sin ? Our opponents are wont to extol
him as not only sinless, but positively righteous ; he
transgressed, however. And his offence just as strongly
proves that his nature was originally tainted, as our of¬
fences prove the depravity of our nature. And if they
-are compelled to own, that in him there was no sin when
vol i.
18
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
58
created, why do they not believe that in us there was no
sin when born ? God is our creator as he was Adam’s,—
Our nature is the same as our progenitor’s,—we sin,—he
sinned ; we have a corrupt nature,—his nature was un¬
corrupt. How does this hold together ? If our having
sinned, proves us to have been born sinful, his having
sinned, proves him to have been made sinful. The
premises are equally broad in both cases ; and the same
conclusion must be drawn.
If we recur to the passage in Genesis, which is often
quoted on this subject, we find it there recorded, that
God created man “in his own image.” Now, whatever
that image be, I affirm it was not impressed on Adam
only, but is also ascribed to his posterity. The Apostle
James, speaking of the vices of the tongue, says,
“ Therewith bless we God, and therewith curse we men
which are made after the similitude of God.” If, then*
this similitude v T as, in the case of Adam, not destroyed
by his offence, shall we infer from our sins, that we never
possessed it, in express contradiction of scripture ?
Again, it may be inquired with propriety, what evi¬
dence we have, respecting those deemed by our oppo¬
nents Regenerate, that their nature is not the same which
they had before they “ v r ere born again ?” this ought to
be proved, before we infer from the doctrine of Regen¬
eration that men are born totally depraved. The Scrip¬
tures do not assert or imply, in all they contain on this
subject, that “ a new nature” is received, but only that a
new character is acquired. Putting off the old man with
his deeds, turning from the error of the wicked, to the
obedience of the just, being redeemed from a vain con-
59
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
19
versation, neither of them intends parting with human
nature itself. Nor is it an uncommon thing to hear
those who are reputed to be “ new creatures” complain¬
ing of their remaining corruption ; a circumstance which
does not seem to indicate, that in conversion they gained
a new nature .
If, indeed, we inquire what it is, in the most re¬
markable instances of a moral renovation, which con¬
stitutes the difference between their present and their
former state, it would be discovered that the better use
and direction of the powers and affections they had al¬
ways possessed , was the principal distinction. The same
appetites, desires, passions, which once disturbed the
mind, would still do so, if the control of conscience were
to be removed, and the habits of virtue broken. To
pass from a high place in the religious esteem of his
brethren, to a very low one, might require less of every
supposed convert, than he or they imagine. This would
be seen more clearly, if it were not that a man who “ falls
away” is immediately reported a hypocrite ; although his
sincerity was probably less deservedly questioned than
his share in our common nature was palpably manifested.
Regeneration is called by such as believe the doctrine
of native depravity, a work of special grace ; God only
can accomplish it; and it is finished , at once, wherever he
undertakes. But the fact that, after all, there should be
so much left of what regeneration is supposed to remove,
native depravity, gives the affair a nearer resemblance to
human, than divine, transactions. And it shews, that
nothing can be justly argued respecting the character
of our nature, from the testimony of those who think
their own has been changed.
s©
OX HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
60
II. It has been pretended, by some advocates of the
doctrine of hereditary depravity, that it implies no more
than that men are “ destitute of holiness at birth.” If
this signify that we have no positively virtuous qualities,
then, none deny it. But we believe there are no sinful
qualities either ; and by the same kind of reasoning
which satisfies them, without going a step further, we
may arrive at our own conclusion. Is it said for instance,
on their part, sin cannot proceed from a holy nature ?
We add, with as much propriety, neithei can virtue pro¬
ceed from an unholy nature. The fact is as clear that
men do good, as that they do evil; and one kind of moral
action proves as much in regard to the quality of our
nature, as the other, so far as it goes.
But, in truth, the doctrine I now oppose, does com¬
prehend more than a simple destitution of holiness ; and
we are taught in it, that men are naturally indisposed to
all good, and inclined to all evil, having no power to
obey the will of God. To this doctrine we object, sec¬
ondly, because it is contrary to the Analogy of the rest of
God's works . Every other creature of God, so far as
our knowledge extends, is formed with a nature exactly
adapted to the place it fills, and the purposes of its be¬
ing. We can discover no exception ; where we are ac¬
quainted with the kind of life and action any particular
class of animals were designed for, we perceive every
part of their frame nicely fitted to its proper use. In
our own bodies, how admirably are the various organs pre¬
pared for the purposes intended in their formation. For
what end, then, did God make man ? What is the ulti¬
mate design of our being ? Is not virtue, religion, holi-
G1 ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
ness allowed to be the principal thing ? Was it not wim
a view to these objects that our moral nature w^as con¬
ferred ? Is it possible, then, that God, who has created
all other animals with just such a nature as they require,
apd who has so wonderfully adjusted our own corporeal
frame, that not a muscle or fibre—not the minutest part
is out of place, or incapable of its proper action, has vet
sent us into life, with our souls in such a state, that we
are utterly incapable of the very purpose for which alone,
we have souls ? How are we to explain this departure
of infinite wisdom from its ordinary course ? Is man the
only being, concerning whom, it is of no importance that
his faculties should be fitted for their service ? Is he,
who is but a little lower than the angels, made with less
care and kindness, than the sparrow that falleth to the
ground ?
But, rejoins an opponent, the first human being acted
for his posterity, and they partake his guilt. Thus says
the Westminster Catechism, “the Covenant being made
with Adam, not only for himself but his posterity, all
mankind sinned in him. The sinfulness of that state, into
which man fell, consists in the guilt of Adam’s sin, the
want of original righteousness, and the corruption of his
whole nature. All mankind by the fall, lost communion
with God, are under his wrath and curse, and so made
liable to the miseries of this life, to death, and the pains
of hell forever.” Where in the Bible, I ask, do you find
such language as this ? Where are we told that the
covenant with Adam was made for his posterity likewise ?
The Bible says only, “ in the day thou eatest, thou shah
die.” There is not even an allusion to his posterity.
22
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
62
And how can we have sinned sixty centuries before we
began to live ? How can we be guilty of that, which,
but for history, we never should have known ? Does not
guilt imply the consciousness of having sinned ? What
penitent was ever smitten with remorse for Adam's sin ?
This is a most absurd theory indeed ; but its absurdity
is not its worst feature.
Suppose a human tribunal should arraign a young man
as a capital offender, because of a murder committed by
one of his remotest ancestors, and condemn him to die ;
would society suffer such a judgment ? And is the na¬
ture of the transaction altered by carrying it up to the
Court of Heaven ? Is it any the less unjust for uncount¬
ed millions to be laid “ under the wrath and curse of
God" forever, in consequence of a single offence of a
man who lived ages before they were born, than for one
to be put to death for his immediate progenitor’s crime ?
Where shall we find a name for that Covenant, which
barters the salvation of a world of beings not yet exist¬
ing, and suspends their eternal weal or wo upon the first
act of a frail creature, who, it is foreseen, will fall ? We
know no Covenants, made by one man for another, with¬
out his consent ; and will the infinitely good God own
such a contract as his ? No. If there is any thing cer¬
tain in religion, it is that God cannot be the author of
that which would be criminal in his creatures. The
Bible is silent about this Covenant. No page of it re¬
cords the fatal instrument.
III. Another argument against the doctrine of native
depravity, is, that it destroys the foundation of human
Accountability .
G3 ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY. 23
When we see a man who has been blind from his
birth, do we regard the consequences of that defect as
subject of blame ? Would it not be alike foolish and
cruel to upbraid him for his ignorance of letters, or stum¬
bling in his walk ? When we see a man who was born an
idiot, witness his wild and melancholy movements, or
hear that shriek which fills the heart .with anguish, do
we not lament this absence of intellect as a misfortune ?
Suppose by some strange occurrence he were to cause
the death of another, would he be guilty of murder ?
What then, if instead of a deficiency of reason, he were
born with some moral defect, which hinders his doing
right, as the other would hinder his judging right ; is he
any more to blame for the consequences ? I think not.
An idiot’s wild behaviour is ascribed to his mental un¬
soundness. A sinner’s vices proceed from his moral un¬
soundness. But be it mental or moral, if we were born
thus unsound, no power save the Creator’s could have
prevented the defect ; and if the sinner is, notwithstand¬
ing, blameworthy, so is the idiot. A child of parents
whose frame is diseased may inherit that disease, yet
who dares accuse the child ? And by what right are we
accused if we inherit diseased souls, while, we are not to
blame for inheriting diseased bodies ?
The whole affair of deriving moral qualities from our
parents by birth, has absurdity on its front. We might
as well talk of inheriting learning from an erudite father
as sin from a corrupt father. To make a proper moral
agent there must be all the power of whatever kind that
is requisite for the performance of duty. If we have a
part of this power, hut not the whole, we are not moral
24
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
64
agents. For the insane man has a part, and yet while
insane is not acxountable. If by nature we have a ca¬
pacity to discriminate between good and evil, to under¬
stand moral rules, and feel our obligations, and yet have
no power to fulfil them, we then have only a part of
what moral agents must have in order to their being
accountable for their actions ; and so by nature we are
not responsible. You may say all of native depravity
which you can say of insanity here ; both are accidents,
brought on men by the providence of God, without their
own agency. The accident of being born is surely not
less beyond our control than a blow on the head, or a
brain fever. And if to the former we owe our bad
hearts, are we not as excusable as if we could trace them
to the latter ? Ascribe sin to any thing out of ourselves,
and which we can neither escape nor remedy, you have
then destroyed our accountability. Our birth is just
such a circumstance, and by tracing iniquity to nativity,
you make us no more to blame for the one than the
+ •
other,—no more answerable for sinning than for having
been born.
An evasion is often resorted to, which attempts to
shun this dilemma by resolving all sin into a fault of the
will. Men have power to do right, but they will not.
Was this bad will equally bad when we first exercised
the power of volition? Was our will perverse when we
came into life ? Did the cause why we do not will to
obey God, exist at our birth and in our souls, as they
were then ? If so, the same conclusion follows. W^e
are not accountable. *If not, native depravity vanishes.
Define that depravity as you please ; call our inability to
ON HUMAN DEFRAVITV.
25
65
do our duty by any name you choose ; I only ask if we
were born with it ? That is the great and only point in
question. And be it a disjointed limb, or idiocy, or a
moral taint or any thing else, if the cause of sin he native,
we are not responsible, since we could not help it. But
all human experience proves that we are accountable.
All men feel guilty when they sin, and are conscious that
they have done not only what they ought not, but what
they need not have done. Conscience blames us for our
sins, not nature. Every reproof it utters is an argument
against native depravity. We never learn from that the
apology of inability,—conscience knows no inability to
do what God commands to be done. It upbraids us for
every fault as the consequence of our own folly ; for every
crime as the result of our own self-indulgence, and volun¬
tary desertion of the right way. The doctrine of native
sinfulness cannot be reconciled to its dictates ; the one
affirms what the other denies ; the one makes us feel
worthy of punishment, the other makes all punishment
unjust, because it must be inflicted for what we could
not help. Conscience traces back the sins of men to a
cause wholly in themselves ; native depravity traces them
all back to another person ; derives them from a cause
which God alone could have hindered, and God alone
can remove.
IV. We object once more to this doctrine—that it
Casts reproach on the divine character and government.
Our first instruction in religion is the reply to that
solemn question of our Catechism, “ Who made you ?”
can we ever forget‘the holy awe, the melting tenderness,
which possessed our minds, when, at the fond parents
VOL. i. 3
26 Oft HUMAN DEPRAVITY. 66
knee we uttered that truth, which so mysteriously con¬
nected us with the mighty power of Heaven, and the
wide universe below ? Can we ever forget the new feel¬
ing of alliance to every object around us, which sprung
from our first conceptions of the meaning of the words
“ God made me and all things V' Can we ever forget
the sweet emotions of confidence and love, which rushed
into the heart, when the revered instructor taught us
what God was, by giving him his own name, and direct¬
ing to our Almighty Creator, the soft affections which
already bound us to himself? And, in after lifj, at those
sad, melancholy moments, when the consciousness of
our unworthiness has weighed down our spirits, and we
have contemplated the iniquity of our fellow-creatures
with deepest sorrow ; when triumphant vice has cast its
baleful glare upon our path, and fraud, oppression, cru¬
elty, stung the soul to madness ; have we not felt it a
blessed refuge to remember God ? Yes, we have turned
gladly away from the heart-sickening scenes of an evil
world to hold peaceful communion w T ith the Just and
Holy One. We have been comforted by the thought
that in him virtue still had a friend, and innocence a
protector ; but alas ! the doctrine of depravity takes
away this last refuge. God made us, indeed, but how ?
He made us what we were when we began to live—
when we were born ; and if we were born depraved, he
made us so. Thus, then, surrounded with a throng of
miserable creatures “ under the wrath and curse of God,”
utterly sinful, and capable of nothing better, we can only
look upward to the Being who made them what they are,
^nd see in Heaven but the God who has created that sin
61
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
i>7
which defiles the earth. The pall of moral death hangs
over the tainted mass of human society ; and above, are
spread out the black clouds of vengeance before the
throne of him, who waits but till he can gather a few out
of the corrupt multitude, to save them, and then will
pour out upon our heads his burning vials ; and begin,
in our helpless souls, a series of torments, which shall
never be mitigated and never end.
In other words, the doctrine of depravity teaches us,
that, having given us a nature entirely corrupt, incapable
of good, and prone to all evil, God placed us in this
world with a command to do what he knows we cannot
do ; and then condemns us to eternal wo for doing that
which he knows we cannot help doing. He continually
afflicts us for sins, which can only be prevented by an in¬
fluence of his Spirit ; while that he purposely withholds.
Moreover, taken in connexion with its kindred doc¬
trines, this teaches us that it was the divine will from all
eternity that human beings should act just as they do,
and perish everlastingly, for having acted thus. That
God selected out of the human race, before they were
created, or the world was , a certain definite number, con¬
cerning whom, he determined that they should be holy
and happy ; and the rest he made to he sinners, that in
punishing them he might glorify his vindictive justice.
Or, to come nearer still, although we all have the same
corrupt nature, and deserve one no more than another
trom our Creator, he is pleased, by an act of his power,
to make a part of us new creatures ; giving them power
and disposition to do his will, arid rewarding them for obe
28 ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY. 88
dience ; leaving the remainder as morally helpless as
they were born, and then punishing them for disobe¬
dience.
We can never reconcile such views of the divine go¬
vernment with what the Bible, reason, and nature, all
proclaim respecting it. Is God impartial to give his
Spirit, which all alike need, and for the same reason, a
reason out of their reach, to a few only ? Is God just
to punish us for the consequences of not possessing a
new heart, when he alone can give it to us ? Is God
merciful to make us w T ith a nature which is incapable of
goodness ; and then inflicting endless torments on us for
not being good ? Turn this doctrine which way you
will, it is equally unworthy of the Creator and Father of
mankind. And the only possible solution to the over¬
whelming mystery of such a method of treating his cre-
tures, is divine sovereignty. God does so because he
chooses to do so ; and none can say to him, u W hy dost
thou this ?” A similar apology to that for the cruelties
of an earthly despot ; and one as valid, in that case, as
in this ; it is no apology at all. Power gives no right ;
will alters not what, in itself, is bad. The very thing to
be explained is, how God can thus will, what, in itself,
is so unrighteous and cruel.—But He has not so willed,
and blessed be his Holy Name 1 we are not compelled
to receive such opinions as his truth. We have not so
learned Christ.
V. The doctrine of native depravity is further shewn
to be false by its inconsistency with the design of our pre¬
sent life as probationary.
We are placed in this world to be trained by a course
6 #
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
29
of discipline and trial, for another ; preparation is our
great work here ; this all admit ; this the Scriptures
teach. On any other supposition, human life cannot be
explained. But in the very idea of probation, it is im¬
plied, that the subject to be proved has not yet a fixed
character when the trial begins. And if we are sent into
this world to prepare for another, it is to be presumed
that we are not already fitted when we enter it, for the
doom which that preparation is intended to decide. Nor
can we imagine that God would appoint a long series of
moral discipline, and provide an ample store of moral
means, for the training of a creature, whom he knew to
be incapable of deriving the least benefit from them.
%
According to thi&-doctrine, however, we come into
life with a fixed character; we are then decidedly, en¬
tirely, and for aught we can ever do, incurably wicked.
We are “ under the wrath and curse of God, and liable
to the pains of hell forever.” If so, how can the days or
years which may follow, be termed a season of probation?
We deserve hell as soon a/s we are born ; can we ever
deserve more ? Our doom is decided at the outset, and
cannot be the consequence of a trial which it precedes . In
tact, to talk of trial here, is idle and absurd. Especially
when we recollect that it is also declared by the advo¬
cates of this doctrine, that nothing less than a special ir¬
resistible agency of God can ever alter the character we
bring with us into the world. Such an agency, says Dr
Chalmers, as would be requisite to turn stones into bread .
Such an agency, says another, as was put forth in cre¬
ating the world. And to hasten, retard, or even procure
this divine interposition, is alike impossible, let us do
VOL i. 3*
30
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
70
what we may. It lies in the counsel of his own will, and
God only knows how, when, or on whom the regenerate
ing grace shall descend. If any one share the blessing,
his change of character will be as much the sole act of
God, as if he had himself been without sense or motion
«
up to the very moment of its occurrence. In his own
time God will operate on the soul for its recovery. Till
then, existence is a mere blank. We can lose nothing,
since all was lost at the beginning ; we can gain nothing,
because all we do prior to regeneration, is done in vain ;
we are not made worse by the neglect of moral means,
for it is impossible to be more than totally depraved ; we
are not improved by the use of them, for that would de¬
tract from the sovereignty of divine grace to which as
the sole unaided cause, all change for the better is attri¬
buted. Now, I may ask, if there is any probation wdiere
a man is neither made better nor worse, gains nothing,
and loses nothing, and is left just as he was found ? It
is idle to pretend so ; as idle as to call that a race for
victory, in which one is compelled to run against another,
but is told, at the outset, that it is determined to crown
his companion, and not him, be the result what it may.
There are many important facts, which, w r hile they
oo to establish the doctrine that the present life is pro¬
bationary, are not to be reconciled w T ith the doctrine that
* *
men are born totally depraved. For instance, how vari¬
ous are the actions of mankind. But for this variety of
action, there is no room, on the supposition that we are
entirely wicked before we have done any thing. Were
this true, we should persist in one unvaried series of sins,
with not a virtuous thought or wish intervening. Ask
71
ON HUMAN DEt>RAVlTl\
31
now your own history for its reports ; does it give in only
a tale of ceaseless guilt ? Do you remember no time
when you were comparatively innocent ? Do you find
far back among your early days, no sincere prayers, no
pure desires, no good resolutions, no kindness for man,
and no fear of God ? Be it that you feel yourself a sin¬
ner, yea, one of the deepest die ; yet, were you always
as bad as you are now ? Would your chance for salva¬
tion have been no better, if you had died in infancy, than
if you were summoned to day ? Admit this, and you
give up native depravity ; for that teaches that all men
are liable to eternal wo as soon as they come into the
world ; more than that cannot be awarded in any case.
But where punishment is equal* the guilt must be pre¬
sumed so.
The phenomena of Habit, likewise, furnish us with
an argument. By slow degrees, and the most gradual
advances only, we become established in our moral
habits. Here a virtue may be forsaken, and there a vice
approached ; but such instances must occur often, before
the indulgence can become habitual sin, and virtue be
wholly renounced. There is a reluctance to be over¬
come at each stage of vice, as there is an effort to be
made at each advance in improvement. But would a
being whose nature is totally depraved, require much
time to reconcile him to evil practice ? Could he shrink
from sin in any shape ? Could he feel the least reluc¬
tance to enter the only appropriate, and therefore, it
would seem, the only easy course of action for him ?
Look now at Education, Example, and all other great
moral instruments : their effects are infinitely diversified,
' m
32
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
72
and incalculably great. But we shall find it hard to ac¬
count for this, on the supposition that all men begin life
with a settled character, and a bias toward evil so strong
that divine power alone is sufficient to overcome it. In¬
deed, when external influence produces pernicious conse¬
quences, we know the subject affected, was not as bad
before, as he was capable of becoming. And when they
cause good results, we know the subject must have had
a capacity for virtue.
VI. Lastly, the Scriptures afford as a far different
view of human nature from that presented by the doctrine
we have attempted to refute . They every where take it
for granted, that a man is a sinner only through his own
act and choice. “ The soul that sinneth, it shall die.
The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father. The
righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and
the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him. Every
tree is known by its own fruit. He that committeth sin,
transgresseth the law. Know ve not that to whom ve
yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to
whom ye obey ; whether of sin unto death, or of obedi¬
ence unto righteousness. He that doeth righteousness
is righteous.”
The sacred volume contains many severe Rebukes
s
pointed at offenders. But rebuke is unjust where the
offence could not be avoided, and is the consequence of
something else, and not our own choice.
There are also numerous pathetic Lamentations and
Remonstrances addressed in the name of God, to his er¬
ring creatures. “Turn ye from your evil ways, and keep
my commandments. Turn ye, for why will ye die.
73
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY,
33
What could I have done more for my vineyard that I
have not done. How often would I have gathered thv
children together, as a bird gathereth her brood under
her wings, and ye would not. O that thou hadst known!
My people will not consider/’ Now such language as
this, is mere mockery of human wo, unless it was by their
own conduct, the guilt lamented, was incurred, and un¬
less they had power to do otherwise. Why lament an
evil which he himself had caused, by bringing them into
the world with a depraved nature, and which, none but
he, can ever cure ? It is impossible to reconcile these
expostulations with the idea, that, at any moment, the
occasion might instantly have been removed by the di¬
vine power, and that without a special interposition on
the part of God, there was no possibility of its removal.
We ought to consider them as sincere ; and if we do,
we must conclude that the people concerned in them,
had been the authors of their own ruin, and always pos¬
sessed the ability to prevent it.
The Bible abounds with Precepts. For whom ? A
being, who, by his nature, is utterly unable to observe
them ?
The views of future Retribution , exhibited in the
same volume, are so many contradictions to native
depravity. We are taught that we shall be judged by
our deeds . And they only, who have done evil, shall
arise to condemnation. But what influence have our
deeds upon that sentence, which was passed ages ago on
the whole race, and by which we are 44 liable to the pains
of hell ?” The judgment is already completed, when we
begin the race of life, and cannot be reversed by all we
M
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
74
may perform. Is this being rewarded according to our
deeds ?
All men are represented, as alike interested in the
blessings of Christianity, and its invitations are according*
ly addressed to all with the same earnestness. Jesus
knew what was in man, both our strength and our weak¬
ness. He was without guile. He ever spake the truth.
If, then, these calls of divine goodness were not designed
for every one’s acceptance, or if none had power to com¬
ply with them, would he not have said so ? If our nat¬
ural depravity be the origin and cause of all our actual
offences, would he not have said so ? He might have
lamented our blindness, but he could not have asked,
“ Why even of yourselves judge ye not w r hat is right ?”
He might have been anxious for our unbelief, but could
not have inquired, “ Why do ye not believe ?” He
might have exhorted us to w r ait patiently for the coming
of the Holy Ghost, but could not have upbraided us for
a guilt which that coming only could terminate. He
might have expatiated on the miseries of our condition,
but could not have held up the promises which concern¬
ed none but the elect, to a dying w T orld ; thus adding
fresh anguish to their helpless woes.
But w r e are not taught in the New r Testament that our
nature is depraved. Our Lord once exclaimed, “ How
can ye believe, who seek honour one of another,” but
never, “ How r can ye believe, who w r ere altogether born in
sins.” He uniformily ascribes the ruin of the wicked to
their own immediate fault, and not to any foreign cause,
least of all to one prior to their existence. There are
no words in the Bible, by w r hich a bare statement of the
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITV.
36
doctrine we oppose, can be made out, with even a shew
of fairness. From a few passages, it has been extorted,
however ; and the candid reader of Scripture, may justly
express surprise at the manner in which a sentiment, so
inconsistent with its whole spirit and instructions, has
been drawn from it. As I have before observed, most of
the passages relied upon in the argument, contain vivid
and striking descriptions of the vices of particular men,
communities, or generations. Some only declare the
general truth, 44 There is no man that liveth and sinneth
not.” And scarce one can even by force, be made to al¬
lude to human nature itself, abstractly considered.
Three texts are cited always on this occasion ; and
they are all which I shall now notice. Both because
the mode of interpretation which applies to these, may
apply to every other which is referred to, and because
constant use of these, shews the dearth of good proof
sufficiently to indicate the weakness of the cause they
are supposed to establish.
One of these passages lies in the 51st Psalm. David is
there giving utterance to some very strong emotions of
his heart, excited by the recollections of his own crimes.
The whole piece is an exercise of private, personal de¬
votion, and should be interpreted as such. Shall we
take up his words and analyse them, as if they were the
language, not of emotion, but cold philosophy ? Shall
we read his Psalm as a lecture, instead of an humble
prayer of private penitence ? If any one supposes David
designed to be understood literally, when he says, 44 I
was shapen in iniquity,” then let him be consistent, and
equally literal in such sentences as the following ; 44 The
36
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
76
wicked go astray as soon as they are born, speaking
lies.’' That is, infants speak as soon as they come into
the world, and they speak lies too. “ Rivers of water
run down mine eyes.” Here you may imagine his
cheeks two channels or beds of rivers. “ Purge me with
hyssop.” That is, take the herb hyssop and cleanse me.
“ Break the teeth of the young lions.” “ There is no
soundness in my flesh, because of my sins.” It is easily
seen to what absurdities w T e are led by this mode of in-
terpretaion ; yet no reason exists for applying it to the
words of the penitential hymn, which does not equally
require its use in those just recited. The truth is, all
these passages are properly regarded as the expressions,
which naturally suggest themselves to the mind of an
oriental poet, in a state of strong emotion ; but not as
literal representations of fact or opinion.
Ephesians ii. 3, is another text much relied upon in
this argument. “ And were, by nature, children of w r rath.
even as others.” To whom is this said ? To persons re¬
cently converted from idolatry; who had, in times past,
“ walked according to the prince of the power of the
air, w r ho were Gentiles in the flesh, and aliens from the
commonwealth of Israel.” This heathenish state with
its attendant vices, Paul contrasts w r ith the condition into
which Christianity had brought them. The phrase, “ by
nature” occurs in another Epistle, in a manner which il¬
lustrates its meaning here. “ We, who are Jews by na¬
ture, and not sinners of the Gentiles.” Now it is certain
Paul does not intend their nature as human beings, for
that is peculiar to no nation, and makes us simply men ,
not Jews nor Gentiles. The latter clause proves that
77 ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY. 37
we are to understand the former thus, if any proof were
needed. For sin, as an attribute of man, is surely not
limited by national divisions, and the phrase 44 sinners of
the Gentiles” would have no sense, if we did not know
that, by this title, the Jews were accustomed to distin-
guish idolaters from their own people. To be a Jew by
nature, is to be one by parentage, education, and affinity.
44 Children of wrath, children of disobedience,” are terms
significant of the actual character of those to whom
they apply, a character acquired by themselves, when
they 44 gave themselves over to lasciviousness, and walk¬
ed according to the course of this world.” So Peter
styles similar characters, 44 cursed children,” indicating
their liability to punishment for their vices. And, in like
manner, virtuous Christians walk as 44 children of the
light.” If any one prefers to understand the Apostle as
affirming that the Ephesians were proper subjects of di¬
vine wrath, on account of their birth simply, without any
regard to their own subsequent conduct, he may enjoy
his opinion. But he turns aside entirely from the argu¬
ment of the writer, to hang a fond notion of his own
upon the naked words.
The only remaining passage I shall notice, lies in the
Epistle to the Corinthians. 44 The natural man receiveth
not the things of the spirit of God.” A wrong transla¬
tion alone, occasions the least mistake here. The Greek
word does not signify what the English term implies.
Its true meaning is expressed in Jude xix, 44 sensual.”
So also in James iii. 15, 44 sensual” is the rendering. It is
found in three places in this Epistle besides the passage
just quoted. Paul, speaking of the human frame, says,
vol i. 4
38
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
78
it is “ sown an atural body.” He means “ a fleshly body.”
This expresses bis sentiment more clearly ; for “ flesh
and blood cannot inherit the kingdom.” The Apostle,
in the chapter containing the words under discussion,
declares, respecting the future happiness of the good,
that “ eye hath not seen the things which God hath pre¬
pared for them that love him, but God hath revealed
them unto us by his spirit.” In reference to the same
things, he afterwards says, the natural or sensual man,
he who is immersed in sensual indulgences, receiveth not
the things of the Spirit of God ; that is, the things
which he hath revealed unto us by his Spirit. “ They
are foolishness unto him.” Why ? Because spiritual
joys, the bliss of virtue, has no charms for the sensual¬
ist. “ Neither can he know them.” Why ? “ Because
they are spiritually discerned." They are of a purely in¬
tellectual and spiritual nature ; they are not to be un¬
derstood, or valued by one w 7 hose gross mind is bound
to the earth, and who has never experienced a felicity
which has no relation to the gratideations of sense. His
moral perceptions and taste, are blunted, obscure, per¬
verse. He sees no attractions in the prospect of a hap¬
piness, whose nature he cannot comprehend,—whose
worth he is incapable of appreciating. Let his mind be
spiritualized—let it be restored to purity and virtue, he
will then discern spiritual things.
Before I close this protracted discussion, allow me for
a moment to advert to some popular charges, brought
against those who adopt our views of the subject w r e
have been considering.
79
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
1. It is often alleged that we diminish the evil of sin.
make it a trifling matter, and are disposed to think most
men good enough as they are. But how does this ap¬
pear ? Our argument concerns a false account of the
origin, and a very exaggerated statement of the amount
of sin among mankind. We leave room for the whole
mass of facts which have been, or may be gathered out
of human history, to prove that a man is a sinner, and
a great sinner too. But we stand in front of these
facts, and beg our opponents not to add to them a
pile of their fanciful creation. We think that there
is as much danger of overstating in a case of this
kind , as there is where only an individual’s reputation is
concerned. We desire only to have the whole truth told.
And beside the dark picture of guilt, we would hang
that of virtue, and point to the one as well as to the oth¬
er, when we are describing man. It surely does not af¬
fect the magnitude of any evil to trace it to one, rather
than another source. Or if it does, the evil of sin is en¬
hanced by a doctrine which attributes it to every man’s
own folly, and perverse abuse of his nature, instead of
deriving it from that nature itself, which, being a gift of
God, ought to be presumed worthy of the giver. We do
not make sin an infinite evil, for the same reason that
our opponents do not make virtuous qualities infinite.
There can be nothing infinite in a finite being. We do
not deny that there is much wickedness among men ; we
believe that the whole world once “lay in wickedness.”
But we are unwilling, for the sake of accounting for this
amount of guilt, to resort to a theory which makes God
its author. No man, in his right mind, can regard sin as
40
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
30
a “ trifle.” We believe every form of it a subject of
great sorrow. With intense anxiety have we seen the
mad course of the ungodly, and we lift up our voices
with our brethren, to entreat them to fly from the wrath
to come. And we can do this with more consistency,
for our peculiar views of the point in question. Not
sheltering ourselves under the broad covering of native,
hereditary, given corruption, we are compelled to feel
more earnestly the danger to which we have exposed
ourselves by our acquired guilt. We look at sin as it is
exhibited in the individual transgressor, and are thus as¬
sisted in our efforts to impress its evil on our hearts, and
fill them with apprehension at the thought of partaking
it. All excuse is taken away, where each one is repre¬
sented as the author of his own ruin.
The standard of Christian holiness is common to all
Christians. We compare men with Jesus, and the pre¬
cepts of Jesus. Thus we judge of their virtues, and
their depravity. This can hardly produce the fault of
thinking the majority good enough as they are. None
are good enough ; Regenerate or Unregenerate, we all
come far short of the mark of our high calling. It is
not always they who most decry the virtue of'mankind,
that most justly appreciate their sins, or feel the most
solicitude for their improvement.
2. It is also alleged that we take away the proper
ground of humility. In reply, I need only remind you of
a well known principle. That which we possess in com¬
mon with every body else, never makes us proud. So
that which we suppose all the world has as well as we,
never causes the feeling of humility. \ou are not proud
81
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
41
because you are a rational animal. You are not humble,
because you are no angel ; you may be proud of that
which raises you above others, and humbled by that
which sinks you in their esteem. If human nature be
depraved, yet it is no more so in one, than all ; and
therefore, I believe few would venture to assert, that they
are humbled by the thought of native depravity alone.
No : humility is a just sense of our own imperfections
and unworthiness ; and he will have the most of it, who
compares, most faithfully, his heart and life, with the
characters which deserve admiration, and perceives his
want of resemblance ; who studies his duty well, and un¬
derstands the defects in his performance of it. We are
not disposed to boast of our humility ; but there is noth¬
ing in our opinions which destroy it. There is a spiritual
pride whose appropriate food is sought in rehearsing to
others, the corruptions it really does not feel ashamed
of; and bemoaning a guilt, the charge of which, it would
resent, should it come from another’s lips.
3. Again, we are accused of undervaluing “ the great
Salvation” by our views of human nature ; but just the
opposite is true. It is for the very reason that we think
as we do of our nature, that we are disposed to set a
high value on the Christian scheme of mercy. We feel
that by our sins, we have done a wrong to ourselves, the
most mournful and dangerous. We compare the nature
God has given us, which is “ but a little lower than the
angels,” with our own conduct, and confess that we de¬
serve a heavy punishment for so degrading it. We look
up to the bright eminence, from which the sinner falls,
and bless more earnestly the hand which lifts him from
42
ON HUMAN DEPRAVITY.
82
the dust, and leads him back to virtue and to God. We
* #
welcome the Saviour, who comes to restore self-ruined
men. But did we believe that God gave us at first, a
ruined nature, and sent us helpless and abandoned into
the waste, howling wilderness, with no capacity to do
good, and condemned to woes eternal for doing evil, we
should not value highly the grace which afterward calls
home a few of us, leaving all besides, to perish without
relief. We do not, and we cannot feel grateful for a
Gospel made up of decrees of Election, irresistible in¬
fluences, and eternal death. But we rejoice, yea, and
will rejoice, in that Gospel of the blessed God, which
reveals a Saviour to the world, and opening wide the
gates of Heaven, proclaims the soul-cheering words,
“ Whosoever will, let him come. 5 ' We do, and we will
give thanks to the Father of Jesus, and of us, that he
sent his Son to turn us from our iniquities, reconcile us
to himself, and, by forming us to virtue here, prepare us,
for a holy rest hereafter.
Brethren, while we divert your attention from false
views of human nature, and strive to banish them from
your minds, we still call upon you to look steadfastly to
the characters you have yourselves acquired. If, for the
sin of our first father, we be neither guilty nor exposed
to punishment, for our own, we most assuredly are.
May God incline our hearts to repentance, cherish in us
every good desire and affection, fill us with the love of
his own perfections, and give us fervent charity toward
all mankind !
A
Vi
LETTER
ON
\
THE PRINCIPLES
\
OF THE
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE
PRINTED FOR THE
American Sanitarian sassociatton.
BOSTON,
PRINTED BY ISAAC R. BUTTS AND CO.
1826 .
Price 4 Cents.
The Executive Committee of the American Unitarian Associa-
lion have been induced to publish this as one of their series of
tracts, by a conviction that the subject discussed is highly impor¬
tant, and the manner in which it is here treated cannot fail “ to pro-
>
mote the interests of pure Christianity throughout our country.”'
LETTER.
To
The Executive Committee of the
American Unitarian Association.
Gentlemen,
Debarred as I am at present, from the exercises of
the pulpit, by the feeble state of my health, and greatly
solicitous for the success of that appeal, which has re¬
cently been made to Unitarian Christians, for the cause of
Christianity in India, I would ask for permission, through
you, to address a few thoughts to the members of
your Association, upon the principles of the foreign mis¬
sionary enterprise . There have long been, and still are,
as I think, both great vagueness, and great extrava¬
gance of language upon this subject, alike among the
friends and the opposers of the cause of foreign mis¬
sions. Some of our orthodox brethren have taken the
ground, that all the heathen, merely as such, are con¬
demned to endless, and to irremediable misery, unless
indeed they shall be converted to Christianity ; a doc¬
trine from which Unitarians turn with horror ; and others
of them, in advocating the enterprise, in their care to
use terms less objectionable, have employed those only
which are too indefinite to bring home a strong sense of
its obligation to any mind, which was not previously di«~
4
Olf THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
158
posed to engage in it. And most Unitarians, resting on
the principles, that men will be judged according to what
they have, and not according to what they have not ;
and that, when God will have any section of the heathen
world to be enlightened by Christianity, he will himself
indicate his purpose, and provide the means for its ac¬
complishment, have either thought but little upon the
subject, or have waited for very distinct instructions
respecting their duty in the service. A new' era, how¬
ever, seems now to have begun among Unitarians, on the
question of the duty of Christians to unite in the w’ork of
extending the knowledge, and the influences of our reli¬
gion. The primary objects for which your Association
was formed, I know, were “ to diffuse the know ledge,
and to promote the interests, of pure Christianity through¬
out our country But I observed that at the annual
meeting of the Association, a resolution was unanimous¬
ly passed, “ that this Association views with high
gratification the prospect, which is opened of a more
extended mutual acquaintance and cooperation among
Unitarian Christians throughout the world.” This shows
that your thoughts have been directed to the situation of
other lands, and the extent and activity of your opera¬
tions recommend an address to you in preference to any
other mode of communicating my view r s to those w hom
I am desirous to reach. I hope, therefore, that, as my
attention has been for sometime employed on this sub¬
ject, I may, without exposure to the imputation ol arro¬
gance. call the attention of Unitarian Christians among us
to the general,—the original question, in regard to foreign
missions. This is a question, whi^h, I think, has not yet
159
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
5
obtained the attention, which it claims from us ; and a
fair and full consideration of which, it seems to me, can
hardly fail to bring Christians of every name, to a cordial
cooperation in every well devised scheme, for the great¬
est possible extension of the privileges, and the blessings
of christianitv.
y
I would then propose to the members of the Ameri¬
can Unitarian Association, and to all Unitarian Christians,
the inquiries, the missionary spirit , what is it? What are
its principles? Are they, or are they not among the
essential principles of our religion ? Are they or are they
not the principles by which our Lord and his apostles were
actuated ? Does the cause, or does it not, demand the
sympathy, the earnestness, and the aid of every Christian ?
I am aware that there are those, and they are probably
not few, who will not at once be disposed to view the
missionary enterprise, as we now see it, as essentially
the very enterprise of our Lord and his apostles. I know,
too, that are those who consider the missionary spirit, as
often as they hear of it, but as one of the many forms,
which an ungoverned religious enthusiasm assumes, and
that there are those also, who are accustomed to view it
even more unfavourably ; and but as one of the forms,
which are assumed by ambition, or by avarice, for mere
party, selfish, or worldly objects. There are those,
who will meet our first suggestion of this subject with
the inquiries, “ have not the heathen as good a right to
their religion, as you have to yours ? Is not their religion
as dear to them, as yours is to you ? Are they not as sin¬
cere believers as you are ; and will not God accept them
in their sincerity ?” We shall be asked, “ what injury
1 *
VOL. I.
6
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
160
results to you from the faith, or practices of the heathen
world ? Or, who has commissioned you to quench the fire
of their sacrifices, and to overthrow their altars ? Think
you, that they will be cast out from the presence and
favour of God, in the life to come, because they know
not him of whom they have never heard ; or that, at the
bar of heaven they will be tried by a law, which they
have never had an opportunity to know ? Are they not
as happy in their faith as you are in yours ; and, if God
intends their conversion to Christianity, will he not him-
self bring them to the faith of the gospel ?”—These are
inquiries which are abroad, and which are to be fairly
met. They involve objections to the missionary cause,
w r hich ought to be fairly answered. They may be, and
they are, proposed by mere cavillers ; by men who care
not for religion in any form ; and who would advocate,,
or oppose any thing, by which they may either justify
their own irreligion, or thwart, and vex those, who, they
think, are mere pretenders to more religion than they
have themselves. But they are made, too, by men,
whom they restrain from sympathy in the missionary
cause, only because it has not been viewed by them in all
its bearings, and obligations. They are made by men, who
have been disgusted w ith the cause, or at least have been
rendered averse from it, by the overcharged statements
that have been made in defence of it ; by the injudicious
manner in w T hich it has often been conducted ; by the
means which have been employed in its support; by the
spirit and manner of some of its agents ; and, by what
has been thought to be the waste of treasure that has
been made, in most ostentatiously doing nothing. Let us
then meet these inquiries, as the objections of fair minds :
161
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
7
and answer them, by an appeal to principles, which
fair minds will readily acknowledge. In other words, let
us follow back the missionary enterprise into its essential
principles. Let us consider the subject, not as belonging
to one or another of the parties of Christendom, but,
purely as one belonging to our common interests, and
duties, as disciples of Christ. Let it even be forgotten,
if it may be, that any missionary efforts are now making;
that any missionary societies are now existing ; and let
us dispassionately consider the enterprise, as a subject for
speculation ; as a question upon which we are to deter¬
mine, what is our duty as Christians ? If it be not a work,
which God will have us to do, the sooner it comes to
nought, the better. But if it be his will that we engage
in it, let us not oppose it, lest haply we be found to fight
against God.
I resume, then, the inquiry, the missionary spirit,—what
is it ? what are its principles ?
I answer, the first principle of a missionary spirit, or a
spirit which is earnest in the cause of diffusing the
knowledge and influence of our religion,—is, a Christian
sense of the moral and religious condition of those, who are
living under the influences of heathenism , and of false
religion .
The question arises, what is a Christian sense of the
religious and moral condition of those, who are living
under the influences of heathenism, and of false religion ?
I know of but one way, in which we can obtain a sat¬
isfactory answer to this inquiry ; or, an answer to it,
with which we ought to be satisfied ; and that is, by en¬
deavouring as well as we may, to see the world, to the
3
ON THE PRINCIPLES? OF THE
162
extent to which it is unenlightened by our religion, as
our Lord and his Apostles saw it ; to see the religious
and moral condition of our fellow creatures, who are
Unblessed with Christianity, as it is exposed to us in the
light of the will and purposes of God, in regard to the
world, as they are made known to us in the New Testa¬
ment. No one,—I mean, no sincere believer in Christ,—
can doubt whether he ought to view those w r ho are with¬
out the pale of Christianity, as our religion itself views
them ; or whether we ought to feel, to cherish, and to
exercise towards them, the sentiments which our religion
expresses in regard to them. What, then, are the views
and sentiments of our religion, in respect to the heathen
w r orld, and to all v r ho are without the knowledge of
Christ ?
I say not, for Christianity does not say, that among the
heathen, and the believers of a false religion, none are
virtuous. There were in the time of our Lord, and there
are now, virtuous and good men under every form of
religion in the world. Nor do I say, for our religion
does not say., that the offerers of a false worship, as far
as this worship is offered in simplicity, and sincerity of
heart, are not accepted by God. I have not a doubt
upon the question, whether they are accepted by him.
I believe, for I think that our religion teaches us, that
in every nation, he that fears God, according to the best
conceptions w r hich he has of him, and does righteousness,
as far as he understands the law of righteousness, is spir¬
itually a child of God, and will not fail of a part in
the inheritance of the children of God. And I further
believe, and doubt not, that no one who has lived, or who
163
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
9
will live, from the necessity of his condition, ignorant of
the true God, in false religion, and in an idolatrous wor¬
ship, will at last be condemned, because he knew not
what he could not know ; and did not, what he had not
the means of understanding that it was his duty to do.
These, I hope, will be considered as ample concessions.*
But, with all these concessions distinctly before us, let
us view the heathen world,—the world that is without
Christianity,—as our religion views it, and as it actually
is. I would not, if I could, excite a false, an artificial
sympathy, in the cause of missions. Christianity needs
no plotting, no trick, no concealment, no overcharged re¬
presentations, for the accomplishment of any of its pur¬
poses. But let us not shut our eyes against the truth.
* I here quote with pleasure the sentiments of Macknight upon
the question of the salvation of heathens. I do not know any other
writer, of those who are called orthodox, who has treated this
subject with equal liberality of feeling. “ That the pious hea¬
thens should have their faith counted to them for righteousness at
the judgment, notwithstanding it may have been deficient in many '
particulars, and even erroneous, is not unreasonable ; provided in
these instances of error, they have used their best endeavours to
know the truth, and have ftot been led by these errors into habitual
sin.***For it can no longer be pretended, that by making faith the
means of salvation, the gospel hath consigned all the heathens to
damnation. Neither can God be accused of partiality, in conferring
the benefit of revelation upon so small a portion of the human race,
in the false notion, that the actual knowledge of revelation is ne*»
cessary to salvation. For although the number of those who have
lived without revelation, hath hitherto been much greater than of
those who have enjoyed that benefit, no unrighteousness can be im¬
puted to God, since he hath not excluded those from salvation, who
have been denied revelation.” Translation of the Apostolical
Epistles, vol. 1. pp. 197—201
10
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
164
Let us not view heathenism, and false religion, only as
they are seen in the characters of a few individuals, who
stand out in most honorable prominence, in the picture
which has come down to us of their age ; and who, against
every adverse influence, were illustrious as models of a
piety and virtue, which would have made them worthy
of honour in any age. Nor let us determine the charac¬
ter of heathenism, and of false religion, by considering
them as they are manifested merely in their gorgeous
shows ; in their pomp and splendour ; or, as they are
sometimes brought before us, in their most simple and
harmless rites. They have other features, which are the
indices of another character. They have other princi¬
ples, and interests, and ends, that are to be seen in a
casual glance at them ; other practices and consequences,
which open to us very different views of their nature and
character ; and which are suited to excite a corresponding
difference of sentiment, in regard to those who are under
.their influence. Let us, then, view them in the light in
which they are brought before us by the sentiments, the
feelings, and conduct, of Christ and his apostles, in re¬
gard to them.
In this aspect of the subject, I would say that, even
if there w T ere not to be found in the records of our reli¬
gion any clear and expressions of its sentiments in re¬
spect to the heathen, and to all to w T hom a knowledge of
it has not been imparted, it still would not be doubtful
what are these sentiments ; and w'hat are the feelings
with which we should view the world, which is without
the knowledge of Christ. Take only the conduct of our
Lord and of his apostles, their labours, and their suffer-
165 MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE. 11
ings even to death, in the cause of extending and es¬
tablishing our religion; in the cause of opposing, and of
exterminating error, superstition and sin ; in the cause
of rescuing men from the delusion, and the debasement*
of idolatry and of all false worship ; and who that be¬
lieves that Christianity is a dispensation from God, can
doubt whether the rescue of men from this delusion, and
this debasement,—whether the recovery of heathens*
and of those who are living under the influences of false
religion, from their errors, superstitions and sins, was in
itself a cause as great and important, as essential to hu¬
man good and to human happiness, as this plan in the
divine economy, and these toils, and privations, and suf¬
ferings for its accomplishment, were themselves great
and peculiar ? Let us conceive, as distinctly as we can,
of the character of our Lord. Let us bring him before
our minds, as he is brought before us in the New Testa¬
ment, as the Son of God ; the long promised Messiah, and
Saviour, whom the Father had sanctified and sent into
the world, for the express end, 44 that the world through
him, might be saved.” Let us bring him before our minds,
associated, as he is throughout the New Testament, in
his mission, and life, and death, if I may so express my¬
self, with the deep interest of God himself, in the cause
of suppressing every where idolatry, and false religion ;
and of recovering men from the degradation, the vices
and crimes, to which ignorance of himself, and supersti¬
tion had brought them. Let us conceive of this most
exalted, this most holy of all the messengers of God,
laboring daily, and daily suffering, that he might bring
men to the truth, and sanctify them by the truth ; en¬
during the scoffs, the insults, the artifices, and the perse-
12
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
166
cutions of those, whom he came “ to save, and to bless,
by turning them from their iniquities unto God and at
last, in the cause of that salvation which he preached,
and for which alone he lived, “ humbling himself to death,
even the death of the cross.” Let us hear him, when he
sends forth his apostles to preach the gospel to every
creature, saying to them, “ he that believeth, and is bap¬
tized, shall be saved, and he that believeth not, shall be
condemned and let us follow these apostles, who have
given up every thing of this world, that they might
preach everywhere “ the unsearchable riches of Christ,”
as they spread themselves through Syria, Phenicia, the
populous provinces of Asia Minor, and of Macedonia
and Greece, comprehending the cities of Antioch, of
Lystra and Derbe, of Thessalonica and Philippi, of Co¬
rinth and Ephesus, of Athens and Rome ; and, if we should
believe tradition, visiting even Spain, and the shores of
Gaul and Britain. Like their master, they are willing to
spend, and to be spent, in the work ; and they “ account
all things to be but loss, for the excellency of the knowl¬
edge of Christ ;” for the privilege, as widely as possible,
of extending it over the earth ; and, like their Master,
every one of them dies in the cause ; and most of them,
the victims of their fidelity in it. Suppose, then, that
our religion had not given to us any very definite ex¬
pressions of the religious and moral state of those, who
were living in heathenism, and false religion. Must not
the ; f condition, I would ask, have been most deplorable,
to have excited this sympathy, this interest, stronger
than death, in their recovery ; to have led to this won¬
derful plan, in God’s moral providence, and to these
167
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
1 o
o
wonderful means, for their rescue, their salvation ? And.
can it be a question, what is the interest, the earnestness,
which we should feel, in the cause of diffusing the know¬
ledge, the spirit, and the blessings of our religion ?
But the language of our Lord and of his apostles, in
reference to the religious and moral condition of those
who are without the gospel, is not equivocal. Interpreted
as they should be, by the import which his own, and the
conduct of his apostles have given to them, the expres¬
sions, surely, are full of most solemn and affecting mean¬
ing, “ the Son of man came, to seek, and to save, that
which was lost.*’ Again, “ God so loved the world, that
he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth
in him should not perish, but have everlasting life ; for,
God sent not his Son into the world, to condemn the
world, but that the world through him might be saved.”
Again ; “ They that are whole have no need of a physi¬
cian, but they that are sick. I came not to call the
righteous, but sinners to repentance.” Again ; “ I am
come a light into the world, that whosoever believeth in .
me, may not abide in darkness, but may have the light
of life.” And, in conformity with this language, the
apostle of the Gentiles represents them as “ without God
in the world,” and without any rational hope. He says
to them, “ ye were darkness ; but now are ye light in the
Lord.” “ Ye were afar offbut now are “ made nigh by
the blood of Christ.” But instead of quoting detached
expressions on this subject, let me refer any one, who
would conceive rightly of it, to the three first chapters
of the epistle to the Romans. Here is a picture of de¬
gradation, of sin and misery, which will prepare any
2
VOL. I.
14
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
168
one, who has read the evangelists with any serious at¬
tention, for the inference of the author of this epistle,
“ We have proved both of Jews and Gentiles, that they
are all under sin.” Our Lord, indeed, uttered no denun¬
ciations against the mere offerers of a false worship ; nor
did his apostles, great as was their zeal for the conver¬
sion of men, pronounce anathemas against them, merely
as idolaters. But our religion contemplates idolatry,
and all false religion, even in their best state, and least
corrupting influence, as a delusion, from which God in
his mercy would rescue those who are living under them.
It also brings idolatry and false religion before us, as
the history of all time represents them, as the prolific
mothers of all the vices and crimes, that can debase
our nature and disqualify for heaven. In the view of
Christ and his apostles, the world was worshipping,
“they knew not what.’’ Men were not only in dark¬
ness, but were “ loving darkness better than light, be¬
cause their deeds were evil.” They were immortal
beings ; yet “ alienated from the life of God, through
the ignorance that w T as in them “ given up to un¬
cleanness, and to vile affections degraded from the
condition, and lost to the purposes, for which God
designed them. Let it be admitted then, that there
were those, both among Jews and Gentiles, who, be¬
fore they had heard the teaching of our Lord and of
his apostles, were prepared to sit down with Abra¬
ham, and Isaac and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven.
Still, the records of the evangelists, of the apostles, and
of profane history, alike assure us, that offences both
against piety and virtue, which are not to be named
169
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
15
among Christians, were not only established by usage,
but were sanctioned by all the authority, which the
opinion and example of the master spirits of the age
could give to them. We do not violate charity, when
we say of the decidedly virtuous heathen in the time of
our Lord, that they wer efew ; that they shone as stars,
appearing here and there in a night, when heavy and
black clouds had gathered, and were rolling tumultuous¬
ly through the air, accumulating in their progress new
elements of a storm, which was threatening to burst
with tremendous violence upon the earth. And I would
ask, has any important change, since that time, been
made in the character of heathenism, and of false reli¬
gion ? If not, what should be our sentiments of them ?
And, what are our obligations in regard to those, wdio
know not God, and Jesus Christ whom he has sent ?
“ While Paul waited at Athens,” as we are told, “ his
spirit was stirred in him, when he saw the city wholly
given up to idolatry.” This translation of the words of
the evangelist, however, expresses but feebly the emo¬
tions, which were excited in the mind of the apostle,
when he saw every where about him the images, that
were worshipped by the Athenians. So zealous, indeed,
as is well known, were the Greeks, and especially the
Athenians, for this species of worship, that, not satisfied
with the number of deities, which had come down to them
from their fathers, they not only often consecrated new
ones of their own invention, but freely adopted also the
gods of other nations. Nay, so careful were they not
to omit the acknowledgment of any divine power,
whether celestial, terrestrial, or infernal, which they even
16
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
170
suspected might claim their homage, that they erected
altars to unknown gods ; until they had no less than
thirty thousand objects of worship.* Paul, therefore,
saw the city, not only given up wholly to idolatry, but
full of the images of the gods of Greece. He saw the
city, the most renowned in the world for the triumphs of
art, the most splendid on the earth in its temples, the
proudest in its schools of philosophy ; the city to which
even imperial Rome sent the most distinguished of its
youth, to train them for the forum, and to qualify them to
be instructers at home, filled with idols. He saw the city,
which was the centre of the learning of the world, lying
in the darkness of utter ignorance of the one true God.
He saw the human mind, there, at once exalted by eve¬
ry earthly attainment, and depraved and debased, by
the most licentious and corrupt superstition. He saw
those immortal beings prostituting the highest powers
of their nature to the lowest and vilest services ;
and dishonoring alike themselves, and God their ma¬
ker. Not only, therefore, was his spirit “ stirred with¬
in him but his was at once, a mingled emotion of
indignation against those, who, “ professing themselves
to be wise,” had closed their minds against the know¬
ledge of God, and were blind leaders of the blind ;
of pity towards the miserably deluded multitude ; of
zeal for the cause of God and of human nature ; and
of earnestness for the reformation, and the salvation of
men, so lost in ignorance and sin. It was the excite¬
ment of a mind, which was enlightened and sanctified
by Christian conceptions of God, and by Christian senti
' Robinson’s Archeeologia Grseca, p. 195
171
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
17
merits of the worship and duty, which man owes to his
Maker. It was the action of a mind, under the influence
of Christian views of the condition of man, while yet in
idolatry and sin ; and of the designs of God in regard to
the world, by his Son Jesus Christ. It was the move¬
ment of a mind, which felt the infinite worth of the
religion of Christ ; which felt an unquenchable zeal for
the extension of its blessings ; and which could not be
satisfied with itself, while any thing was neglected, that
could be done to reform, and to save the world. We
have, indeed, no reason to suppose, that Paul was more
strongly affected by the spectacle of idols and of idolatry
at Athens, than he was at Rome, or at Corinth, or at
Ephesus, or at Thessalonica ; or than he was at any
place, in which he witnessed the triumph of a false, and
a debasing worship, and the corruption of heart and man¬
ners that are associated with it. We have here but the
incidental expression of a feeling, or rather, of a state
of mind, with which he every where, and at all times,
looked upon the heathen world. He had been sent forth,
like the other apostles, “ to preach the gospel to every
creature to call men, “ every where, to repent, and to
turn to God ; to open their eyes, and to turn them from
darkness to light and every where to establish the
worship and service of the one God, “ through the one
mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus.”
And, in this cause, he had made the greatest personal sa¬
crifices to which man could be called ; and had endured all
that man could sustain. I need not enter into a detail of his
journeyings, of his labours, and of the persecutions which
he suffered, while, with unimpaired fortitude and resolu-
VOL. i.
18
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
m
tion, he ceased not, in the city and the country, on the
land and on the sea, while at liberty and while in chains,
by conversation, by preaching and by his letters, to do
all that man could do, to reclaim his fellow-men from
idolatry and sin, to the faith of Christ ; to the know¬
ledge, and love, and worship of God ; and to holiness
here, in preparation for immortal happiness hereafter.
We all know that, in this work Paul persisted against all
obstacles, and under every accumulation of suffering,
untired, and undiscouraged ; and that, like his master,
he gloriously terminated his life and his toils together in
the cause.—I would then ask any one, who is opposed
to the missionary cause, or who is indifferent concern¬
ing it, here to pause and seriously to consider, whence
was this sympathy of Paul in the moral condition of the
heathen world ? Was it unreasonable ? Was it ex¬
cessive ? Were his efforts, or his sacrifices, beyond the
fair demands, or the true importance, of the object ?
Or, did he in truth feel no more for this cause, than
ought to be felt for it by every Christian ?
The true view of heathenism is, not that it is a
condition, in which, if a man die, he is therefore ne¬
cessarily under eternal condemnation. Terrible thought;
and most dishonourable alike to God, and to Christ¬
ianity ! But, still, that it is a condition of darkness,
of sin, and wretchedness, from which it is God’s pur¬
pose to redeem the world. Paul saw not, nor did
any of the apostles see, in the heathen ♦ world, men
who were doomed to endless perdition, only because
they were pagans. But he saw in them the human na¬
ture degraded and debased ; and his was a deep, and
173
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
19
strong feeling of the greatness of the change, in charac¬
ter, in condition, and in happiness, which a cordial recep¬
tion of Christianity would bring to them. He saw in
them men, who were groping their way, they knew not
whither ; and who were sinking deeper in moral turpi¬
tude by the very efforts, the very services, to which
their false and debasing conceptions of religion were
leading them. He saw the moral image of God in the
soul to be marred and defiled; and he saw, and felt
that, by the religion of Christ alone, its beauty and
its purity could be restored. In these sentiments, and
these feelings, is the first element of the mission¬
ary spirit ; or, of a spirit alive to the cause of the
greatest practicable extension of the gospel of Christ.
Although, as a Jew, he had from his childhood known
and worshipped God, yet, as a Jew, Paul had felt no
interest in the cause of extending a knowledge of God
to the heathen. But Christianity had given to him new
conceptions of the character and designs of God ; and
new views of the condition of man, while-living in igno¬
rance of God, and in sin. And if we see our fellow
creatures in the darkness, and debasement, and misery
of superstition, idolatry and crime, and have none of the
sympathy with their condition which Paul felt, and none
of the interest which our religion breathes from every
page of its records, in the cause of their deliverance,
their redemption, have we the spirit of the disciples
of Christ ? or, are we Christians ?
Different views are taken of heathenism, and of false
religion, and very different sentiments are excited in re¬
gard to them, far less from the actual diversity of their
20
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
174
character,—although, indeed, it differs greatly in different
places,—than from the diversity of the state of mind in
*
which it is contemplated by men. An infidel has told
us, that “ the religion of the pagans consisted alone in
morality and festivals ; in morality, which is common to
men in all ages and countries ; and in festivals, which
were no other than seasons of rejoicing, and which could
bring with them no injury to mankind.’'*' And with a
merely speculative Christian, by whom religion is regard¬
ed only as a matter of opinion,—a subject for occasional
discussion, the pagan idolatry was, and is, a mere specu¬
lative absurdity. With those who view religion only as
a political engine, paganism, and all religion, is good or
bad, at it is favourable or unfavourable, to their views
of civil policy. And by those who care little or nothing
for the religion in which they have been educated, in
any of its forms, or of its characteristic sentiments, no
interest whatever will of course be felt, in the religious
or moral condition of the world. But neither did our
Lord nor his apostles, look upon heathenism with indif¬
ference ; nor alone, nor peculiarly in its political bearings ;
nor as a mere error of judgment ; nor as an innocent, or
a moral institution. No. Had our Lord and his apostles
reasoned of the world, as too many now reason of
those who are without the knowledge of God, and the
blessings of his gospel ; had they said, “ the time has
not come to bring Jews and heathens to the knowledge
of the truth. They are not qualified to receive it. God
will execute his own work, in his own time. They are
safe. They will be judged in equity, and in mercy.
* Voltaire’s Louis XIV.
175
MISSIONARY" ENTERPRISE.
c 2i
Why then interfere, where our interference is not re¬
quested?”—Had our Lord and his apostles thus rea¬
soned of the world, what would now have been our
condition ? How much better than that of the ancient
idolaters of Athens, or of Rome ; or the modern idola¬
ters of Hindoostan, or of China ? Let impartial justice
preside over the inquiry, and I have no fear concerning
the decision upon it in every mind.
May I not then say to you, reader, whoever you may
be, cultivate a Christian sense of the religious and moral
condition of those, who are living under the influences
of heathenism, and of false religion, and, like Paul’s, your
spirit will be “ stirred in you,” when you look upon the
nations that are “ wholly given up to idolatry ?” Yes, carry
with you into those dark regions of the earth, the light
and spirit of the gospel of Christ, and your heart will
“ burn within you,” with compassion for their miserable
condition, and with Christian zeal in the cause of their
deliverance from it. What, indeed, is there, that is low,
what that is vicious, or what that is wretched, which was
not comprehended in ancient, and which is not compre¬
hended in modern, heathenism 1 There is nothing to be
conceived either of lewdness, or of cruelty, which had
not the sanctions of the religion of Greece and Rome ;
and which is not now a part of the idolatrous worship of
the world. Nor, in any section of the world, was moral
instruction ever connected with any department, or office,
of heathen worship. Nay, more. This worship, with
the vices that were not only incidental to it, but which
found, in some of its exercises, their very spirit and life,
was not left, even in the most cultivated ages of antiqui-
22
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
17G
t) r , alone to exert its full influence upon the multitude.
Even legislators and philosophers, instead of endeavour¬
ing to instruct, and to reclaim their ignorant and corrupt¬
ed countrymen, encouraged this degrading service by
their teaching, required it by their laws, and sanctioned
it bv their examples. I ask only, then, that the world
which is without our religion, should be seen by us in
the light, and considered with the sentiments, with which
it w F as seen and considered by our Lord and his Apos¬
tles; and we shall be secure of the first element, or prin¬
ciple, of that spirit, which will earnestly desire, and gladly
seize the occasion, as widely as possible to diffuse the
knowledge, and influence, of the truth as it is in Jesus.
The second element, or principle, of that spirit, which
feels its obligation to do all that it may for the diffusion
of our religion, is, a deep and strong sense of the reality,
and power, and worth of our religion; and of the inesti¬
mable blessings which it will not fail to impart to those , who
shall cordially receive , and faithfully obey it.
I have dwelt, perhaps, longer than it may be thought
by many to have been necessary that I should have
dwelt, on the sentiments with which our religion re¬
gards the heathen w r orld. But I know 7 that there are not
a few 7 , even of those who have made some progress in
religious knowledge, whose opinions on this subject are
unformed and unsettled; and that there are not a few 7
also, who reason, as I think, most unjustly concerning it.
I was willing, also, to detain attention for a few minutes
longer than 1 would otherwise have done, upon the first
element, or principle, of the missionary enterprise, from
a conviction that, if this principle be distinctly understood
177
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
and strongly felt, a preparation will be secured for the
succeeding topics of this letter. These topics I will now
treat as briefly as I can.
Is our religion, then, a reality ? Are its doctrines re¬
specting the character and government of God, respect¬
ing the condition of man in this world, respecting our
Lord Jesus Christ, and the eternal life that is beyond the
grave, actually a revelation from God to us 1 I appeal, then,
to the consciousness which the Christian has of the power,
and the worth of his religion. I appeal to his experi¬
ence of its purifying, its heavenly influence, upon the
heart that receives, and loves it, and yields to it. 1 ap¬
peal to his experience of its adaptation to the strongest
wants of his nature ; to the wants of his immortal nature ;
to his experience of its power of exalting the soul above
all that would degrade and debase it; of bringing man to
the greatest nearness to God, to which he can be brought
in this world ; and of giving, even here, a foretaste of the
blessedness, which it assures to its obedient believers
hereafter.
Who that thus knows the power and the worth of the
religion of Christ, will not most earnestly, most solici¬
tously desire its widest, its universal extension 1 We
may possess knowledge, and riches, and other sources of
great immediate gratification, and be strongly sensible of
their worth, and yet not only not desire their diffusion,
but even feel our own interest and happiness essentially
to depend upon the very fact, of our exclusive possession
of them. But so it cannot be in regard to the principles
and the spirit of the religion of Christ. In each one of
its principles, and in every object of it, Christianity is
24
OX THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
178
stamped with a character of universality , which belongs
to no other religion; and, corresponding with this pecu¬
liarity of it, is the spirit which it awakens in its sincere
believers. Christian benevolence, the love which Christ¬
ianity inspires, is a principle that cannot lie inactive in
the soul that receives it. It will even expand itself be¬
yond the sphere of its capacity of action. It will wish,
and it will pray for, the amelioration of the suffering, to
which it can extend only the emotions, and the breath¬
ings, of its compassionate desires. It will wish, and it
will pray for, the universal diffusion of truth, and purity,
and happiness. Nor will it evaporate in a wish ; or think
that its end is attained, only by a prayer for the good of
all men. It will not indeed waste itself on the expanse
of ignorance, and weakness, and suffering, and sin ; or
spend its strength, where it can impart no light, or com¬
fort, or improvement. But while it diffuses itself, like
that subtile, elastic, all pervading fluid, which surrounds
and fills our earth, and is the life of every living thing,
it will ever delight to concentrate its power; and here,
and there, and every where, as it may, to accomplish the
greatest good of w 7 hich it is capable. Christian benevo¬
lence will never hesitate upon the question, whether it
shall act, wherever it may act, for the good of others. It
can no more live without this action, than the selfish
principle can live without action for its own indulgence.
Do I, then, address those who have a Christian sense of
the reality, and power, and worth of our religion 1 With
them, the knowledge of an opportunity, and the possess¬
ion of the means, of more wddely extending it, will at
once secure all that Christian earnestness, and that Christ¬
ian benevolence, can accomplish in this enterprise
179
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
25
In thinking of the early extension of our religion,—
the unexampled rapidity of its extension during the life
of the apostles ; and in pursuing the inquiries, “ why has
it not since been more widely diffused ? Why has it not
long ago penetrated into every region, where civil gov¬
ernment is established, and the arts of civilized life are
cultivated, and where men are qualified to weigh the
evidences of its truth ? and, why has it not overshadow¬
ed, and withered the superstitious, and exterminated the
false religion, and the idolatries, of Turkey, of Persia, of
Hindoostan, and of the vast empire of China ? Why has
it not yet spread through Africa, and through South
America ; why has it not accomplished in the islands of
the Indian ocean, and in all those of the Pacific, the good
w r hich it is said recently to have accomplished in the So¬
ciety isles ?”*—In thus comparing what our religion has
* In the year 1773, Capt. Cook estimated the number of inhab¬
itants in the Society Islands at 200,000. The missionaries think
that there must have been, at that time, at least 150,000. But in
1797, when the missionaries arrived there, the number did not ex¬
ceed 20,000 ; and before Christianity began to exert much influ¬
ence there, the number had diminished to little more than 15,000.
It is believed that two thirds of the children that were born, were
sacrificed to idols ; or were thrown into the sea to propitiate the
sharks, which were worshipped as gods ; or were buried alive.
In the years 1801 and 1802, Mr John Turnbull resided at Otaheite
for commercial purposes ; and has since published “ A Voyage
round the World, in the years 1800, 1,2, 3, and 4.” Of the in¬
habitants of these islands, he says, “ their pollution beggars all
description ; and my mind revolts from a recollection, which re¬
calls so many objects of disgust and horror. Their wickedness is
enough to call down the immediate judgment of heaven ; and un¬
less their manners change, I pronounce that they will not long
VOL. I. 3
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
130
26
done, with what we are very plainly taught that it was
intended to do, we too easily rest in causes of its past,
and present condition, which leave the blame of the nar¬
rowness of the present bounds of Christendom any where,
but where indeed it belongs ; that is, with those who
have called themselves Christians. It is said too, in our
own justification, that the age of miracles has passed ;
and that converts are not therefore now to be made, as
they were made in the days of the apostles. And then
we resort to the consideration, that there is work enough
to be done at home, without going abroad to proselyte.
And, if still pressed upon the subject, we ask, “ where,
remain in the number of nations.” Note, however, not less than
12,000, in these islands, can read the word of God intelligibly ;
considerable portions of which have been translated into their lan¬
guage, printed, and circulated. Three thousand children and
adults are now in the school. Many are .able to write, and some
are considerably acquainted with arithmetic. The pleasures of
the domestic circle are now known among them. Industry has
increased. Drunkenness has become rare. Theft seldom occurs ;
and murder is still more unfrequent. The aged and infirm are
kindly treated. Hospitals have been established ; and charitable
societies instituted, to relieve the afflicted poor. Their govern¬
ment is defined, and limited by a constitution ; and the king and
his chiefs have power only to execute the laws. Their wars are
ended, and the weapons of war are perishing. Family prayer is
almost universal. Twenty eight houses of worship are opened on
the Sabbath, and eighteen natives are employed as missionaries
in the neighbouring islands. These are facts which require no
comment. It would be easy to adduce many others, in regard to
these islanders, which are not less interesting. But I would rather
refer the reader, who would know more of this subject, to the
London Quarterly Chronicle for July and October, 1823; and to
the Missionary Herald for September, 1825.
181
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
27
and what, are the indications of providence, that our
labours in the work of extending our religion among the
heathen will be successful ?” But I would ask any one who
so reasons concerning the missionary cause, to bring home
to himself the inquiry, as far as respects the intellectual
and moral condition of the world, “ what better indications
had our Lord and his apostles, of success in the work of
diffusing his religion, than we now have ?” I may ask,
too, even at the hazard of startling those who have not
so viewed it, if our religion be not, essentially, a religion
of proselytism ? Are not its designs respecting all man¬
kind forcing themselves upon our notice, on every page
of its records ? Does it offer any compromise with false
religion, or with idolatry, in any of their forms ? Nay,
more, I would ask, if Christianity is to be extended over
the whole world, and if the age of miracles be gone by,
not to return, where is the consistency of waiting for a
miraculous direction in this work, and for miraculous as¬
sistance in its execution ? Shall we then wait for miracu¬
lous manifestations, to excite us to do what we may for
its universal extension ? The only miracle, indeed, which
is necessary for our success, in the enterprise is, that they
who call themselves Christians, should strongly feel the
power and worth of the religion of Christ ; and, that
their hearts should be drawn out in the exercise of that
benevolence, without which, I know not on what ground
we can claim to be his disciples. I will even proceed a
step further, and ask, if we have not some advantages for
the propagation of our religion, which the apostles had
not ? With them, Christianity was an experiment that
was yet to be tried. But we have the evidence of its
28 ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE 182
truth and excellence, which is derived from the admira¬
ble institutions that have grown out of it ; and which as
much belong to it, and depend upon it, as the branches of
a vine belong to, and depend upon, the stock to which
they are attached. We can shew, and prove, that in the
degree to which it has been left to itself, unfettered by
civil and ecclesiastical restrictions, it has triumphed
over the strongest passions, and the most inveterate
prejudices and customs ; and has repressed abuses and
crimes, which have been established and sanctioned by
every other religion. By the knowledge, also, which it
has imparted of mutual rights and duties, it has modified,
«
and, we hesitate not to say, has improved civil govern¬
ment, and public morals, to an extent to which no other
than Christian principles could have advanced them.
Who that has thoroughly studied the history of our own
country, has a doubt whether we owe our peculiar civil
institutions to Christianity ?* Nor may we alone defend
our religion, and recommend it, by these most obvious
and grand results of it. The countless associations which
it has originated, for all the conceivable purposes of be¬
nevolence ; the systems of education, that are essentially
Christian, which are forming and advancing throughout
Christendom ; the new responsibleness which it devolves
upon woman, and the new rank which it has given to
her ; the emancipation which it has effected of the poor,
from the entailed ignorance, degradation and debasement,
in which every other religion finds, and leaves them ; its
'* I would refer the reader, who has not much time for inquiry
on this subject, to the very able sermon, preached before the Le¬
gislature of the Commonwealth, on the 31st of May, by the Rey\
Mr Dewev, of New Bedford
183 MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE. 29
efforts, and its success, in the work of abolishing slavery ;
and its influence on the domestic relations, and on domes¬
tic happiness ;—these are effects of our religion, which,
in proportion as they are comprehended, and are seen in
their true character by the intelligent of other religions,
will do much, and cannot fail to do much, lor its exten¬
sion*. From what it has done, had as Christendom is,
we can demonstrate its adaptation to the condition, and
to the wants of all men, and its tendency to an indefinite
improvement of the human mind and character.
* u Before going to war, it is right to count the cost ; and in the
conflict which Christians have begun to wage for the moral sub¬
jugation of the world, it is proper to estimate whether, with their
few and scattered numbers, they can cope with the myriads of
their opponents. Certainly at no former period had they such
means, and such promising success, as we now have. All the
ancient 1 war weapons’ of victory, excepting miracles, are at
their disposal; and new instruments of still greater potency, which
the science of the latter days has been accumulating for a univer¬
sal revolution of the mind, are ready to be brought into action,
upon a scale of overpowering magnitude. Even the single re¬
source which is lost, may yet be recompensed by equivalents;
and a substitute, in many respects, may be found for mira¬
cles. The first effect of a miracle is, to arouse the atten¬
tion, and to overawe opposing prejudices. The second, to afford
a proof of the truth of the religion, of which it is a sealing accom¬
paniment. The first object may be gained by experimental phi¬
losophy. And as to the second, the difference in the proof of our
religion, to any to whom it shall now be proposed, from its mira¬
cles, lies rather in the fact, that this proof is at the present day
more circuitous, than that it is less conclusive, than it was in the days
of the apostles. Besides, the turning point of receiving Christianity,
even in the apostolic age, consisted less in having seen the mira¬
cles, than in seeing their own need of a revelation, and its adapta-
VOL. i. 3*
30
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
184
The third, and last element, or principle, of that spirit,
which feels a paramount obligation to do all that it may
for the diffusion of our religion, is the feeling, that God.
in dispensing signal blessings to men, designs that they
whom he so distinguishes, shall be his agents in giving
the widest possible extension to these blessings. In
other w r ords, God designs that man shall be his instrument,
for imparting the blessings of Christianity to man; and he
who has the means, and the opportunities, thus to benefit
his fellow creatures, will be held responsible at the bar
%
lion to the present circumstances of humanity. Moral influence
has always prevailed more than supernatural influence. The gen¬
eration that literally lived on miracles, and had i angels’ food’ for
their daily bread, perished from unbelief in the desert; whilst their
children, brought up in the loneliness of the wilderness, far from
the corruptions of the surrounding nations, were even eminent to
after times, as an example of 1 a right godly nation.’ ”
Hints on Missions, by James Douglas, Esq. pp. 22—24. This is
a sensible little book ; and far better worth reading, than have been
many books upon the subject of missions, which have been, and
are, more popular.
A friend suggests to me the expediency of remarking here, that
the effect of miracles, as a means of missionary success, has been
overrated ; for the apostles seem to have resorted to them only in¬
cidentally ; and Rammohun Roy says, they are not of the value
in the East, which many Christians are accustomed to ascribe to
them. It is indeed well known, that the Hindoos boast of far
more wonderful miracles, than are related by the Evangelists; and
though these reputed miracles are as wonderful absurdities, as were
ever imposed upon human credulity, they must, and will dispose
unconverted natives of India, to allow but little importance to
the miracles of our religion. But converts to Christianity, in that
country, will obtain new sentiments of the miracles of Hindooism ;
and then also will they see, in the miracles of the gospel much to
confirm their faith, that it is, what it claims to be, a dispensation
from God.
105
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
31
of heaven, for the execution of the work which God
thus requires of him.
That man should sympathize with man, that he should
feel an interest, deep and strong, in the condition of his
feliow-men ; and, especially, that we should be affected,
and strongly affected, by the wants and sufferings, not
alone of those around us, but of our whole race, I fear
not to say is as much a law of our nature, as it is that we
should feel a deep and strong interest in those, who are
immediately connected with us, in the nearest rela¬
tions of life ; or, as it is, that we should love ourselves.
This feeling may be, and it is, kept down within us, by the
ascendant influence, which is obtained in our hearts by
narrow, local and selfish interests. It is a feeling, which
many of the circumstances in our early education are suit¬
ed to repress, and to enfeeble in us ; and w^hich our daily
habits of business and of pleasure, as mere men of the
world, may be counteracting, and restraining, and dead¬
ening within us. But there are occasions in the life of
every one, whose heart has not been shut up by bands of
brass, or iron, or adamant, when this feeling, chilled and
dead as it may have seemed to be, is warmed into life,
and puts forth its strength, and breaks from its enclo¬
sures, and speaks in a language not to be misunderstood ;
at once vindicating our nature from the charge, that,
11 There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart,
“ It does not feel for man
and demonstrating that it is the purpose of God, that
man shall be his instrument for the communication of all
possible blessings to man. I need not refer you to the
effects, which are produced within us, while w^e are read-
32
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
186
mg narratives of real, or of imaginary scenes and circum¬
stances of distress. These effects alone demonstrate,
not only that God has made us for one another, but that,
in an important sense, he has made each one of us for
the whole of our species. Who, I ask, dwells upon
the pages of history, merely that he may possess its facts ;
or simply for the mere personal uses which he may make
of them ? Or who that knows the blessings of civil
rights, and of civil liberty, has not felt all his indignation
awakened against the despot, that has trampled upon
these rights, even though ages have revolved, since the
tyrant and the tyranny have passed away? And who has
not felt a joy, an exultation, to be surpassed only by that
of an emancipated people, when the tyrant has fallen,
and when at least one well directed effort has been made
in the cause of human freedom ? Who, as he has pon¬
dered on the pages of history, has not gone forth with
the armies, over whose dust centuries have revolved,
and joined the standard of the leader whom he has
chosen, and fought for the rights of man ; rejoicing, or suf¬
fering, as they were obtained, or lost; filled with the inte¬
rests, the hopes, the fears of the distant age, to which his
existence for the hour has been transferred ; and prepar¬
ed for all the efforts and sacrifices of the cause which he
has espoused, and w T hich he believes to be the cause of
truth, and right, and human happiness ? Who has read
of the wise, intrepid, persevering, disinterested benefac¬
tors of their age,—be that age as distant from us as it
may,—and has not felt that they were the glory of our
race ? Who has not sympathized with them in their pur¬
poses, shared their toils, triumphed in their successes.
187
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
33
and lamented their defeats ? Who has not felt, when
under the influence of their examples, the true greatness
and dignity of an heroic, self-denying, upright, and be¬
nevolent spirit ; struggling against the difficulties that
opposed it ; sacrificing its ease, its security, its peace, and
all its immediate interests, for the advancement of the
condition and happiness of others ; and who has not felt
himself to be raised in the scale of being, by the conscious¬
ness that he is united, by the bond of a common nature,
wfith all this virtue, this greatness, this excellence ? Yes,
it is not less a law of our nature, that we should go out of
ourselves, that we should feel a strong interest in others,
and not only in the wants and the happiness of our fami¬
ly, our neighborhood, our country and our age, but in
those too of men in every country, and in all time, than
it is that we should love ourselves. I say not, that one
principle is as strong, and steady, and active at all times,
or that it is as generally manifested in human conduct, as
is the other. It is not. In many it is bound in the
chains of a sordid avarice. In many, it is kept in sub¬
jection by a miserable ambition, which values nothing,
but as it conduces to personal distinction. And in many,
it lies buried under heaps of the rubbish of cares and
interests, of appetites and propensities, of prejudices and
passions, not one of which has an object beyond the in¬
dividual, to whom they are the chief, and perhaps the
only good of life. But the principle of sympathy,—of
sympathy, I mean, with the cause of human nature, of
human good and happiness,—dead and buried as it some¬
times seems to be, does also sometimes rise, and mani¬
fest itself; and, with an electric influence, at once ani-
34
OX THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
188
mate, and give new vigor, to thousands, and millions.
How has the thril of its power been felt, in the cause of
the abolition of the slave trade ? How was it felt, when
the first struggles of the Greeks for freedom were pub¬
lished throughout Christendom? How was it felt, when
it was thought that the sun of liberty had broken through
the clouds, which, for centuries, had covered Spain;
and that a new day was about to open upon that dark
spot of the earth ? And how was it felt, when we were
assured that one and another of the oppressed nations of
South America had conquered, had triumphed, had se¬
cured a government of its choice, a constitution, equal
laws, independence ? And who, that has tasted the
blessings, and that knows the happiness of civil liberty,
does not desire, and will not pray, that it maybe univer¬
sal ? Who would not rejoice to hear, that despotism is
every where at an end 1 Who would not contribute what
he can, to the cause of the universal emancipation of
our race, from the injustice and cruelty, the degradation
and misery, of civil tyranny 1 —And is civil freedom, or
are civil rights and privileges, so great a boon, that,
merely to name them, is to kindle desire in every heart,
that they may be universal 1 And is the sympathy that
is thus excited, one of the provisions of God, for the
advancement of the great cause of civil liberty through¬
out the world 1 What, then, should be our sympathy in
the cause of religion ; of religious liberty ; of the rescue
of man from the slavery of a superstition, a thousand times
more debasing than is any civil bondage ; in the cause
of bringing men to the liberty, the exaltation of condi¬
tion, and the happiness, of the sons of God ?
189
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
35
Christians, let us feel the value of our privileges, and
the greatness of our responsibility for them. God has
committed them to us for our own improvement, and as
means of our own salvation. But is it not also his will,
that we should be his instruments for the improvement,
and the salvation, of our fellow-men 1 How, think you,
is our religion to be extended through the world, but by
the Christian earnestness, and the Christian benevolence
of those, who feel its reality, its worth and its power ;
and the greatness of the blessings which it will impart
to those who receive it ? We believe, indeed, that it ever
has been, that it is, and that it will be, in the care of
him, who sent his Son to be the Saviour of the world.
But our Lord committed it to the immediate charge of
his apostles ; and they have left it—to those who shall be¬
lieve in it. God will honor us as his agents, in the work
of imparting to all the greatest of all his blessings. Is
proof of the principle demanded 1 I will ask, why has God,
in such diversified measures, allotted to us our talents,
and our capacities 1 Why has he appointed such a diver¬
sity in the condition of men 1 Why has he connected us in
bonds of families, of neighborhoods, and of communi¬
ties 1 And why has he subjected all to so many weak¬
nesses, and exposures, and wants, and sufferings 1 No
one will doubt, whether one purpose of these ordina¬
tions of his providence is, the accomplishment, by the
instrumentality of man, of his designs of benevolence
towards man.' And is it less clearly God’s design, that
we should extend, as far as we may, the bread of life,
and the waters of life, to those who are suffering from
the want of them, than it is that we should give of our
bread to the hungry, or relieve the distress which we
36
ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE
190
have the means and opportunity of relieving 1 Fellow-
christians, let us feel that we are to give account to God,
for the use which we make of our powers of mind and
ot body, of our property, of our influence, and of every
means which w r e have of being good, by doing good. And
if, where much has been given, much will be required,
will not much be demanded from us, and mav not much
be most justly demanded, in return for the most precious
of God's gifts to us, the religion of his Son 1 Admit
that the heathens are safe, as far as that idolatry is con¬
cerned, the evil of which they know not. The great-
question to engage our attention is, are we safe, while
we possess the means of their instruction, their reforma¬
tion, and their best happiness, and yet fail to employ
them to the purposes, for which God has entrusted us
with them 1 Are we safe, if this talent shall be kept by
us, laid up in a napkin 1 Can we render our account
with joy at the bar of heaven, if, having freely received
this unspeakable gift, we have cared nothing for the con¬
dition of those who have it not ; and have done nothing,
that they may be partakers with us of the salvation,
which is in Christ Jesus, with everlasting glory 1
Suffer me here to sav, that I fear we do not think
enough of the importance of prayer in this, as well as in
all our great and important enterprises. God wills that
/
religious truth, like other truth, should be extended by
human agency. But not by an independent agency of
man. We are, in this great concern, to “ be workers to¬
gether with God and while our wills, and affections,
and labors, are to be given to the service, we are “ in all
our ways to acknowledge Him, that he may direct our
steps.” Before our Lord elected his apostles, he was all
191
MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE.
37
night in prayer to God ; and we see his apostles relying
not more on their miraculous powers, than on their
prayers, for the cooperation of God in their work. Let us
not, then, indulge narrow views of our relation to God ;
of the intimacy of the communion which we may hold
with him ; and of the influence w T hich may be exerted
by God upon us, and by God, in cooperation with us, in
perfect consistency with our own moral freedom. Let
us, more than we have done, realise what we ask of God,
when we pray, “ may thy kingdom come, and thy will be
done on earth, as it is done in heaven!”
I address this letter, gentlemen, through you to the
Unitarians of our country; and, as a Unitarian, with de¬
vout gratitude and joy I hail the beginning of a new era,
in the recent, and, I hope, unequivocal demonstration, of
a foreign missionary spirit among us. Scarcely less dis¬
tinct, indeed, is the voice from India to us, than was that
to Paul, “come over to Macedonia and help us.” A
Unitarian society in Calcutta, composed as well of natives
as of foreigners, who have themselves contributed largely
to the work, solicit our assistance in establishing there a
perpetual Unitarian mission. Native gentlemen of In¬
dia have contributed largely to the cause of establish¬
ing Christian worship, upon Unitarian principles, in their
country ; and they, with their English associates, are
earnestly requesting the. aid of Unitarians in England and
America, for the accomplishment of their object. And
can there be a question, in this case, concerning our
duty 1 I leave it with every man’s conscience, in the
sight of God.*
§
* For information on this subject, see the Christian Examiner for
VOL. i. 4
/
38 ON THE PRINCIPLES OF THE 192
We live in a time, peculiarly favorable to every at¬
tempt that can be made for human improvement and
happiness. Nor is it alone in those departments, to
which science, with her new and wonderful discoveries,
has extended her influence, that we find a new spirit of
excitement, and of enterprise. The fact, that the long
known mechanic powers are, of late, found to possess ca¬
pacities, very far beyond all the uses to which they had
been applied ; and the fact too, not less interesting and
important, of the discovery of a new mechanical agent,
which may be applied alike to works the most simple,
and the most complex ; to the greatest and grandest ope¬
rations, and to those which are most minute ; has given
an impulse to inquiry, and to the spirit of discovery, and
effort, in every department of human knowledge. The
idea is awakened, and is abroad, that nothing is to be
deemed impracticable, till it has been fairly tried ; and
that no exertion for an object is to be relaxed, while
any means remain, which may be employed for its attain¬
ment. It is felt, that there may be new applications of
the known capacities of human nature, not yet hinted at
in any of our systems of mental philosophy ; and even
that new moral agents may be discovered, which maybe
employed to accomplish in the moral world, changes and
improvements, as great as have been extended to the
various departments of art, by the power of a new physic¬
al agent. In Europe, and in our own country, great are
the changes that have been accomplished, within the last
fifty years, by the systems of education, which have been
devised and adopted, and which are widely extending ;
March and April, 1826; and Professor Ware’s address, delivered
before the Berry Street conference, on the 31st May.
193
MISSIONARY ENTERFRISE.
39
by the multiplication of books, which grows with the
multiplication of readers ; by the new views which have
been opened, and are every where obtaining increased
and increasing attention ; of religious liberty, and of re¬
ligious rights ; and which are awakening new convictions,
and new interests, and are giving a new impulse to
thought and action. Great are the changes of opinion,
which are spreading, and which will continue to spread,
through the nations, of the nature and ends of civil go¬
vernment ; of the rights of the ruled and of the duty
and accountableness of rulers. And, I am happy to say,
that, compared with any former time since the days of
the Apostles, great, throughout Christendom, is the re¬
volution that has been produced in opinion and in feel¬
ing, concerning the relation of man to man ; and concern¬
ing our capacity, and obligation, to extend to others the
blessings, with which God in his mercy has distinguished
us, in the religion which he has given us by his Son,
But the principle which, more than any other, has given
life, and efficiency, to our systems of education, which
has peculiarly multiplied and extended books, and which
has spread wfidely the new sentiments, that have obtained
of religious liberty, and of religious rights ; the princi¬
ples, which has given diffusion to the new views which
are received of the nature and ends of civil government,
and which has attempted, and done, what has never be¬
fore been done, for the universal extension of our reli¬
gion, is, the principle of voluntary association . And if
we may infer what it may do, from what it has done,
where shall we fix the limits of its pow 7 er, and of its con¬
sequences ? Look alone to the Bible societies, the anti-
slavery societies, the peace societies, and the religious
40
ON THE PRINCIPLES, &LC.
194
missionary societies of England and of America, and say,
what is to arrest their progress, and their effects ? Opin¬
ion has been called the lever, by which society is now
moved, and its vast operations are directed, and con-
troled. But I should rather call it the ground on which
the lever is fixed, by which the world is moved. The
mighty agent, by which those changes have been accom¬
plished, which are every day exciting new admiration,
and new expectations concerning the moral and the po¬
litical condition of the world, is, the power of voluntary
association. It is a power, which, like knowledge, and
like wealth, may be made as conducive to evil as to
good. But let all the virtuous and the wise feel its im¬
portance, and faithfully avail themselves of it, and em¬
ploy it with the calm, and steady, and persevering zeal
which should characterise Christians ; and, with God’s
blessing on the work, it will not long be doubtful to any
mind, whether indeed the enterprise be feasible, of the
conversion of the world.
I will only add my hearty good wishes for the prosper¬
ity of your association ; and my hope that, while we are
aiming at the advancement of our religion at home , we
may all be excited to do what we can, to bring “ every
knee to bow in the name of Jesus, and every tongue to
confess him to be Lord, to the glory of God the Father. 5 '
With great respect and affection,
I am, truly yours,
Joseph Tuckerman.
Chelsea , June Sth, 1826.
Errata,— p. 10, line 14th, for that , read than. Same page, line
25th, after and , read explicit .
No. 12.
A
DIALOGUE
OX
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
PRINTED FOR THE
American sanitarian Association.
BOSTON,
BOWLES AND DEARBORN, 72 WASHINGTON STREET.
1827.
Price 4 Cents.
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
Vindicate the ways of God to man.- pope.
Mr and Mrs Henderson had lately buried their eldest
daughter, a lovely girl of eighteen. Their feelings on this
occasion were such as affectionate parents usually experi¬
ence when thus severely afflicted. They were amiable
people, and had lived together very happily twenty years.
They had brought up a family of four children, and had
found as much to love and approve in them as they could
reasonably hope. Living in the middle ranks of society,
as far removed from degradation on one side, as from
reigning in the circles of fashion on the other, they had
escaped, perhaps, the severest trials of virtue. They had
passed along so far in life, with no other notoriety, than
that of being spoken of among the circumscribed number
of friends, whom they had attached to themselves, as an
inoffensive, kind-hearted, unassuming couple, with a fam¬
ily of orderly and good children, the eldest of whom, now
lately deceased, was very lovely in person and mind.
Their two sons, one sixteen, and the other fourteen years
old, were both apprenticed to substantial good men in the
city of Boston, and gave reason to expect that they would
4
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
4
satisfy the affectionate and natural hopes of fond and ra¬
tional parents. Their youngest child, a daughter of eleven
years, was still at school. She had been called home by
the sickness of her sister, and with her parents and broth¬
ers, had attended and watched the declining young crea¬
ture, till she sunk under the pressure of her disease, and
w r as relieved by death from all mortal sufferings. Mr and
Mrs Henderson at this time experienced feelings, not un¬
usual on such occasions. At first their bodily fatigue, then
the excitement of numerous visits of condolence, the sud¬
den relaxation from all personal and mental exertion, and
the overpowering sense of their heavy loss, all combined to
render their emotions agonizing. For a time they gave
themselves up, without restraint, to the full indulgence of
their grief. But tliey were sober, temperate people, and
under the habitual restraints of reason and religion.
0 {
Their minister also was kind and sympathising. He made
them frequent visits, and offered them the consolations
suggested by his nature, and his office. The hopes of the
Christian faith, and the support of philosophy, which he
said admirably harmonized with the principles of religion,
were pointed out; and he endeavored to convince them of
the duty and the wisdom of restraining grief, and subduing
all spirit of complaint. They had indeed no disposition
to murmur at the dispensations of Providence, and as¬
sured their friends they would not, if it were in their
power, call back their beloved child from the happy state
to which they believed her removed, and again involve
her in the trials and troubles of life. “ And yet,” said
%
Mr Henderson, “ it is a dark and mysterious dispensation.
I cannot see the hand of a merciful God in it, though I
will not say I doubt of God’s mercy in any thing.”
They were alone when Mr Henderson made this ob~
o
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, and prayer.
o
servation to his wife. They had been conversing on the
promising qualities of the dear girl they had buried; and
the contemplation of the happiness they had hoped to en¬
joy in her mature years seemed to aggravate their sense
of her loss and renew their grief for this heavy bereave¬
ment. Mr Henderson, particularly, seemed to find it
difficult to reconcile his mind entirely to his trouble. He
had often manifested this state of feeling, and his wfife
this evening ventured to remark upon it.
“ Your faith appears to me to be weaker than mine/'
said she, in reply to her husband’s observation. “ It
seems to me that, respecting those dispensations which are
involved in the clouds and darkness that are around the
throne of God, you have doubts of his mercy; though you
are not willing to acknowledge your doubts.”
“ Can you always perceive the benevolence of God, in
every event of life that takes place ? ” asked Mr Hender¬
son.
“ No my dear,” replied his wife, “I do not pretend
to be so much clearer sighted than my neighbors; but
my not being able to perceive it, does not cause any
doubts to arise in my mind respecting the existence of
that benevolence.”
“ Well, I said I did not doubt the mercy of God,” in¬
terrupted Mr Henderson, “ but that I could not see his
mercy in all his providences. I w ish I could see it, in the
case of our dear Elizabeth’s death. I must say it would be
a great comfort to me.”
“ But there is certainly a difference in our state of
mind,” observed Mrs H. and it seems to me that you do
feel doubts and painful ones; while, at the same time,
your rational convictions forbid you to doubt. I on the
VOL. II. 1*
6 PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER. 6
contrary feel no doubts whatever ; and therefore my mind
is not painfully disturbed, as yours is.”
“I do not exactly comprehend what you say,” said
her husband. “ If you do not feel any doubts whatever,
and yet you cannot see any plainer than I can the mercy
of God, how do you reconcile these two opposing states
of mind ? There seems some contradiction in this.”
“ I will endeavor to explain what I mean ” replied Mrs
Henderson. “ I am deeply convinced that, as a finite be¬
ing, it is quite impossible for me to comprehend and con¬
tain within my mind, the views, purposes, and plans of
infinite mind. I reason from analogy. I know that any
thing which is seen in part, any circumstance which is
but partly understood, any action, the motive of which is
hidden, must appear not only imperfect, but often distorted
and hideous, when the whole, if seen, would display per¬
fect proportion. The secret intention would show good¬
ness and integrity. In the same way, I think it is owing to
our seeing only a part of God's design, that we cannot in
every event perceive beauty, consistency, and benevolence.
Having satisfied myself by the clearest reasoning that
God is infinite mind, and that mind infinitely good;
whenever any event or course of events appears to speak
a different character, instead of doubts arising as to the
mercy of God, I immediately advert to my own small
and imperfect powers, which are incapable of ever pene¬
trating into the mysterious arrangement of events, and
which, seeing only the odds and ends of things, cannot
discern the beauty and propriety of the whole design.”
“ Perhaps it is so,” said Mr Henderson, “ but I confess
there is so much to excite doubt, that it is difficult, at all
times, to satisfy the mind that all things are ordered in
mercy; and yet, as an abstract truth, I cannot but allow,
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND TRAYER.
7
that God is a merciful being, infinitely merciful. But
when we see a lovely creature, one calculated to be use¬
ful, and to diffuse happiness, as well as to enjoy it; one
who has lived an innocent life, and who constitutes the
chief joy and hope of virtuous parents ; when we see such
an one snatched away from their arms, and laid in the
dismal tomb, cut off from the innocent delights of the
world, and its improvements, while the hearts of all
around are crushed by the heavy affliction ; when we see
this, and then turn perhaps to our next door neighbor,
and find a beastly, intemperate being, who is a plague to
all with whom he lives, and who is incapable of either
virtue or happiness himself, or increasing that of others ;
and this useless, miserable wretch is left, while our lovely
child is taken away; who can reconcile these things with
that perfect benevolence, that is represented always to
will kindness and always to be able to bring to pass,
what it wills ? ”
“ I am sorry to hear you use these terms, my dear,” said
Mrs Henderson. “ I do not like the expression,‘ snatched
away ; 5 it seems to imply that anger, and not benevolence,
dictated the dispensation. Without proving any thing,
such terms operate on the feelings, like argument, and
therefore we should avoid them. I do not like ‘ dismal
tomb ’ for the same reason. The grave is represented as
the peaceful asylum of suffering, where the wicked cease
from troubling and the weary are at rest; and by those
who believe it only the receptacle of the once loved, but
now resigned body, while the released spirit has risen to
happiness and its Maker, it can only be thought of with
pensive and holy pleasure. The delights of life you speak
of, and its improvements, what are they, compared with
those w r e believe our darling is now enjoying ? Our faith
8 PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER. S
must be aided by reflection, observation, and experience,
or we may not be able, in any case, to reconcile the appa¬
rent inconsistences, that catch our attention in the course
of events; and we cannot, with all our efforts, often be able
to perceive and trace the love and mercy, which yet we
may believe guides the superintending hand.”
“ What I can see, I can believe,” said Mr Henderson,
“ but respecting what I cannot see, by any view I can
take of a subject, I must still confess, I can never be free
from doubts.”
“ But,”’ said Mrs Henderson, “ if those dispensations,
which, at the time they occurred, appeared altogether op¬
posed to divine benevolence, have, by the course of sub¬
sequent events, evidently displayed that principle, would
not such dispensations serve greatly to establish a reli¬
ance on God, and faith in his goodness, and prevent the
same state of doubt from occurring to you again, when
suffering under a painful affliction of the kind you have
described ? ”
“ I do not know that it would,” replied Mr Henderson.
“ I have in the course of my life, several times, been thus
situated, and have clearly perceived that a circumstance,
which I deprecated as a great misfortune, at the time
it occurred, has proved in the end a blessing, and that
which I hailed as auspicious, has turned out a bad
business ; and yet I have not been so established in the
faith you speak of, as always to be able to rely upon it.”
“ But that is because your eprly impressions were not
in favor of an overruling Providence,” said his wife.
I think it of very great importance that -children’s minds
should be early and deeply impressed with the great and
fundamental truths of religion ; for I have constantly ob¬
served, that the fullest convictions of the understanding
9
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
9
in mature life, are feeble instruments in removing strong
early impressions. If our infant notions are correct, our
rational convictions in mature life will confirm them, and
our faith will be solid and satisfactory. If, on the contra¬
ry, our first ideas are false, and deeply impressed, it is
next to impossible that the understanding, however clear
in its deductions, and sincere in its purpose, should re¬
move the feeling it opposes, so that it will not recur
again and again. You were brought up with the notion
that chance or destiny ordered all events ; and though
you have long been convinced that when you reason on
the subject, there is no sound argument to be urged in
favor of this opinion, but every thing to confirm that of
a particular Providence, ye«t your early impressions re¬
main for your discomfort, whenever any circumstances
of a distressing nature occur.”
“ I wish it were possible,” she added in an affection¬
ate tone, “to transfer to you the repose and resignation
which I enjoy, from having been early impressed with a
belief that God is a kind and watchful guardian, who or¬
ders all our affairs from benevolent motives.”
tf I do not see that I can help it,” replied Mr Hender¬
son. I read the books adapted to convince my mind, and
then I feel assured I have studied the New Testament,
and am satisfied of its truth. I have made a profession
of religion, and wish to be a Christian. What more can I
do?”
My dear husband,” said Mrs Henderson, “ I will
say more of you than you say for yourself. You not only
wish to be a Christian, but you manifest by a life of strict
conformity to the precepts of Jesus Christ, that you really
are a Christian, in spirit, and life. But you fail of reap-
10 PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER. 10
ing the joys of a Christian, from a want of those feelings
of faith, which I enjoy by the blessings of early instruc¬
tions/’
Mr Henderson was affected by this proof of the tender
love and approbation of his wife ; and moved by that in.
ternal feeling of humility, which every real Christian
must understand, he said, “ do not, my dear, bestow
praise like this on a being so utterly useless and worth¬
less as I feel myself to be.”
“ When we think of ourselves in relation to God and
to the character exhibited by our Saviour,” replied Mrs
Henderson, “ it is altogether proper, as it is entirely
true, that we should esteem ourselves unworthy, and
feel self-abased before our Maker and our Master. But
we are taught by that master to judge ourselves and
to judge others by the actions of our lives, as we judge
of trees by their fruit; and in doing this, we must dis¬
criminate between our good and bad actions. We
must compare ourselves with others, and when thus
comparing actions, we must perceive, and it is proper to
express candidly, in what we rise above, and in what
we sink below others. In this view of ourselves, we may
with gratitude to God rejoice that, in some instances, we
have been enabled to follow the example of Jesus Christ,
and trust, that our endeavors to do so, may be accepted
in all cases. At the same time, we ought to search our
heart, and if in any thing it is not right before God, pre¬
ferring its own will to his, we should acknowledge it,
and humble ourselves accordingly. But even in the
deepest devotion, we should be under the guidance of
reason, and not abandon ourselves to emotions, however
pious they may be.”
11
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER,
11
“ I do not think it right to abandon ourselves to feel¬
ing,said Mr Henderson, “ nor do I ever allow myself to
do it. Emotions will come ; doubts will present them¬
selves. I can command my feelings as well, I believe, as
most people; but I can do it only by turning my mind
forcibly from what affects me, and engaging it in a dif¬
ferent train of thought. I can restore peace in no other
way.”
r< I never found that method effectual with my feel¬
ings, 55 said Mrs Henderson ; “ it only shuts out the tide,
till accident breaks down the barrier, and then the tor¬
rent is overpowering. 55
Mr Henderson answered, “ If I attempt to reconcile
my feelings to painful events, instead of banishing those
feelings, I am immediately overpowered by the multitude
of distressing doubts which present themselves, and which
I can neither quiet nor remove. 55
“ There is only one resource in all such difficulties, 5 '
said Mrs Henderson, “ and that appears to me always
effectual whether the faith is weak or powerful. At
least I have found it so, in every period of my life and
under all circumstances. 55
“ You mean the power of religion, I suppose, 55 said
her husband; “ but, as I told you before, with me it is
not sufficient; my faith is not strong enough, it is not
implicit enough to answer the purpose. 55
44 No, 55 interrupted Mrs Henderson, “ I did not intend
to advert to the general influence of religion ; but to the
power of one act of Christian faith. It is prayer only,
that, I should think effectual in relieving our minds of
such thoughts as afflict you. Prayer is the greatest priv¬
ilege of a Christian. The highest, the holiest, the noblest
12
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
12
employment of men. It is also the most natural of all acts.
When the mind is deeply wounded and perplexed, when
we are pressed on every side, and can find no hope of re*
lief from any quarter where human reason directs us, the
very despair we feel prompts us to direct our thoughts to
some power above ourselves, and to implore relief. In
perfect conformity to this opinion is the anecdote of the
Indian woman, who, seeing her child sinking in the wave
where no human power could reach him, extended her
arms in an agony of despair, and falling on her knees,
exclaimed, “ O, thou every where, save my child. 5 '*
This was instinct, and in perfect unison with this instinct,
are the precepts of our Saviour. Nature and faith di¬
rect the uncorrupted mind, in every extremity, to ask of
God that help, which no other power can afford. 55
“ All that would be very well, 55 replied Mr Henderson,
“ if, when we ask for relief, we could be always sure of
receiving it. We should then be so much encouraged as
to resort to this remedy in every evil. But the truth is,
that however earnestly we implore, relief is often denied
us, and therefore w r e naturally doubt its efficacy. 55
“ Oh no, my dear,’ 5 exclaimed Mrs Henderson, “ it is
not so. I am sure you cannot believe that a sincere and
ardent prayer was ever offered in vain. 55
“1 do not know what you mean, 55 replied Mr Hen¬
derson, surprised in his turn. “ Did we not daily pray that
the life of our dear child might be spared ? did we not
have our minister to pray for us ? did we not seek this
blessing with many tears, and with the most pious and
humble state of mind ? and were not our prayers disre¬
garded, and our precious child taken from us ? 55
“ Will you let me express in my own language the state
13
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
13
of our minds, and the object of our prayers, and the
dealings of God with us, in this case ? ” asked Mrs Hen¬
derson.
44 Do so, my love ; ” replied her husband ; 44 I should be
glad to receive light from your way of viewing it.”
44 You say,” observed Mrs Henderson, 44 that we offered
our prayers in the most pious and humble state of mind.
If so, we certainly believed that God, who knows all
things, could see better than we could, what events would
really prove a blessing to us, and what would not; and we
should pray conditionally, that he would grant what we
asked, if he could see it would prove for our happiness.
And, as he has ordered things otherwise, our piety and
humility require us to submit with resignation to the re¬
fusal of our petitions.”
44 Very well,” interrupted Mr Henderson, 44 allow it to
be as you say. Still my assertion remains uncontroverted,
that we ask, and are denied. If we prayed not at all, in
what should we be losers ? ”
44 1 do not view the subject in the same light,” replied
Mrs Henderson. 44 1 still believe that our prayers are ac¬
cepted, and answered, if we really pray with sincere and
humble minds.”
44 1 do not see how you make it out,” said Mr Hen¬
derson.
44 1 can only speak for myself,” Mrs Henderson said.
44 1 feel convinced that my petitions are heard, and are
accepted, and my prayer granted, if not exactly in the
way my own imperfect views would have induced me to
dictate, had a choice been allowed me, yet so as to fill
my heart with gratitude and resignation.”
2
VOL. II.
14
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
14
“ How is it, then, we differ so essentially,” inquired
Mr Henderson, “ seeing we are both professors of the
religion of Jesus Christ ? Both were piously offering
prayers for the life of our child, both equally distressed by
the fear of losing her; how is it we feel so differently 1
Tell me the whole process in yourself; and let us com¬
pare the state of our feelings and our conduct, step by
step, and see, if we can, where the difference lies.”
• “For my own part,” replied his wife, “ I never feel
disposed to pray, unconditionally, for any outward cir¬
cumstance. I pray unconditionally, I plead urgently,
that I may be blessed with that spirit which will unite
me to my Maker, that I may have the spirit of Christ,
and be enabled to view all my temporal circumstances as
ordered in infinite mercy. In short, I pray not for ex¬
ternal, but internal changes ; that my mind may be con¬
formed altogether to the will of God. I pray also, for all
those that are dear to me, that each one may be trans¬
formed into the spirit of meekness, of wisdom, of love, of
goodness, so that we may all go on our way rejoicing, let -
that way be checkered as it will. For every thing else,
my dear husband, I pray only in humble submission to
the wisdom and goodness of God, not daring to wish that
my imperfect mind shall in any thing dictate what events
shall happen to me.”
“What then,” exclaimed Mr Henderson, “ did you not
pray earnestly and devoutly for the life of our dear Eliz¬
abeth ? ”
“ I did not pray for it, unconditionally,” replied Mrs
Henderson. “ I dare not. manifest so much presumption.
I did pray, if God could see it for the best good of all con¬
cerned, that he would grant her to our prayers; but I
I
15
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
15
was afraid to ask more. Even Jesus Christ did not, in
the greatest extremity, offer a prayer for deliverance on
any other ground. ‘ Not my will,’ said he, ‘ but thine be
done.’ I prayed also, and with deep earnestness, that
our minds might be prepared for whatever events should
be ordered by his goodness ; and that, under any circum¬
stances, we might each of us be supported by his spirit,
and receive his healing mercy.
“ My prayers, I am sure, were heard and granted;
and though God has called us to mourn, we ought also
to acknowledge and be grateful for the grace he has.
given us.”
“ What do you mean by the grace of God?” asked
Mr Henderson ; “ This is a phrase very commonly used,
but I never could exactly comprehend its meaning.”
“ Grace, my dear husband, does it not mean favor ? ”
asked Mrs Henderson, a little embarrassed.
“I do not know,” replied her husband, “ I am no
scholar ; nor am I learned in theology.’'
“ Nor do I pretend to be learned in any thing,” said Mrs
Henderson ; “ but I think grace means any of God’s bless¬
ings. It is by God’s grace we live, and are provided with
the comforts and conveniences of life; it is by his grace
we have the enjoyment of rational faculties and bodily
powers. But generally, when God’s grace is spoken of, I
suppose his spiritual favors are intended to be expressed.”
Well, and what do you call the spiritual favors of
God,” asked Mr Henderson. After a moment’s pause,
during which Mrs Henderson seemed deep in thought, she
replied. “ If I find my mind, on any occurrence, greatly
disturbed, my spirits depressed, my feelings excited, and
some deeply painful impressions made upon it by par-
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
16
16
ticular circumstances, and if, in this state, my religious
/ *
principles and reflections are unequal to restoring my quiet
and tranquillity ; if my philosophy is insufficient, and all
common aid fails ine, I have then two methods left, which
may bring back my peace. On the ground of philosophy, I
may presume, as it is one of its principles, that nothing vio¬
lent can last loner, that when time has been allowed its influ-
ence, I shall recover the cheerful tone of my feelings. Or
on the ground of religion, I may hope, that God will do
for me what I cannot do for myself, if I earnestly im¬
plore his mercy to calm the tumults of my feelings. The
assistance I receive, the serenity and peace which are re¬
stored, is the answer to my prayer. This is the grace of
God, his spiritual favor; it is that unseen, and often un¬
known operation of his power, that preserves the human
mind, through all the vicissitudes of life, so capable of
happiness ; and when it is under the habitual influence of
religion, renders it so uniformly peaceful and contented.”
“ Will you pretend to say,” asked Mr Henderson, “ that
a miracle is performed, in favor of those who pray in the
manner and circumstances you describe 1 and that peace
and happiness are restored to their minds by the immedi¬
ate operation of God's spirit, and not by strictly natural
means ? That is a fallacy to which I can never yield my
mind, I am not enthusiast enough to believe that.”
“ My dear husband,” replied his wife, “ it is not my
mind, but yours, which is imposed upon by fallacy. The
terms, natural means, and miracle, are both used so in¬
definitely, they are sc obscure and vague, that they are
altogether fallacious in their common application. If,
in the case we are speaking of, you intend to express
by the term, strictly natural means, the mode in which
17
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
17
the human mind is always affected in similar circumstan¬
ces, I will assert that the operation of divine grace in
thus producing a desirable state of feeling, when thus
earnestly prayed for, is nothing more nor less than strictly
natural means. For I fully believe that every sincere
prayer offered to God for a proper temper of mind, is fol¬
lowed by the temper of mind desired ; and yet I do as
fully believe the state of feeling would not have been pro¬
duced, without the ardent desire and humble petition.
Prayer is the appointed means of obtaining the blessing,
the condition on which it is promised ; and when all these
circumstances occur, the effect always follows. Thus it
may be called strictly natural means. I do not know
any means that separates the mind from the influence of
Deity. Nature is only another name to express the com¬
mon providence of God ; and this effect on the mind
through the means of prayer I consider of that kind.”
Mr Henderson then said, “ if you call such an effect of
prayer, the operation of natural causes, what do you think
produces the effect you call philosophical. 1s not that
also the operation of natural causes ? and if so, what is
the difference between them ? ”
“ My dear husband,” said Mrs Henderson, “ does not
God preserve and bless us, when we do not ask him ?
when we even forget him, and disobey him ? He invites
us to turn to him and find happiness, by all the variety
of events in which his Providence places us. If a pain¬
ful event induces us to seek him, and ask his gracious in-
fluence, ive receive it, and our peace is restored. If we
do not seek him. he gradually restores our peaceful state
of mind, but not such peace as prayer brings; and thus
prepares us for new incitements. All the train of human
VOL. II.
IS PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER. IS
events, and all the states of mind resulting from them,
are only the varied means used by our Heavenly Father
to draw our hearts to him, and conform our spirits en¬
tirely to him ; by which eternal happiness will be secured
to us.”
“ Then,” interrupted Mr Plenderson, “ you mean to say
that what is called the philosophical cause, is, in your opin¬
ion, only the operation of God on the mind, without any
voluntary co-operation of that mind ; and what is called
spiritual influences, is God’s operation on the mind, in
co-operation with the earnest and expressed desires of the
heart ? ”
“ Yes, that is what I think, my dear,” replied his wife ;
“ and I should like to explain my ideas more at large, if
you think them worth attending to.”
Mr Henderson made no reply, but appearing to listen,
Mrs Henderson continued. “ With those persons who
never seek the aid of God’s grace, who know nothing
of religious intercourse with their Maker, God deals in a
certain manner, and such as he perceives to be the most
effectual in bringing them to the state of mind most con¬
formed to his own, and therefore most capable of rendering
them happy. This being the case with the greatest num¬
ber of human beings, embracing barbarians, semicivilized
people, heathens, infidels, idiots, insane persons, and little
children, the methods pursued respecting them are the
most frequently observable ; so that they who take notice
and reason on the circumstances of human life, come
at length to the conclusion that God has established cer¬
tain general laws by which he chooses to govern the
world, which they call laws of nature, or philosoph-
19 .
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
19
ical causes ; as if God had delegated to other powers, the
conduct of those circumstances, which require constant
attention and superintendency, while he reserves for him¬
self only the management of those few and extraordinary
events, which he deems more important, and requiring
greater exertion of divine power. But it is easy to per¬
ceive that this mode of reasoning is the effect of man's
imperfect faculties, which, not comprehending an idea of
Deity, are disposed to circumscribe the attributes of God
bv their own narrow views.”
J
“ This view of the subject seems rational,” observed
Mr Henderson.
Mrs Henderson continued. “ God deals differently with
the class of persons, who come into nearer communication
with him by means of religion. They are drawn, by
their lively faith in divine revelation, to seek the favor
of their Heavenly Father directly. They know, they feel
that they are led by his spirit, whenever they do not resist
it; and they desire to become more and more conformed to
it, and to live by it. They know they shall be heard by
their Maker, whenever they sincerely ask for his assist¬
ance and influence. They are convinced they shall be
permanently united to God, if they strive to subdue the
evil passions and abandon the conduct, which separate
them from him, and are truly and earnestly desirous that
he should reign in their hearts. To all such persons,
and in all their circumstances, God uniformly grants his
grace, according to his own divine measure and wisdom ;
and still, as with mankind at large, effects follow causes,,
uniformly and constantly ; and the reward of spiritual
favor, on the urgent request for it, is as much a general
mode of operation, as that adopted for the greater num-
*20
FROVIDENCE, FAITH AND PRAYER.
20
hers. It is less frequent only because fewer minds are in
the state to ask and receive. It is therefore, strictly
speaking, as much a natural law as the other.*’
“ I like that explanation,*’ said Mr Henderson,
Mrs Henderson’s countenance became irradiated, as her
husband’s mind appeared impressed. She continued.
“ There are other situations and circumstances of the
mind in which a different mode of operation is adopted
by God. In this method, God sees fit to manifest himself
sensibly to his creatures, cither on their minds immedi¬
ately, or by interrupting his general course. These cir¬
cumstances, occurring much less frequently than cither
of the others I have noticed, and indeed, since the
Christian era, having apparently not occurred at all, are
considered by mankind as the only instances of God’s
directly operating on worldly affairs ; and accordingly they
are distinctly called miraculous. But as such phenomena
always occur in the same given situation of men, they
ought to be considered as means, as strictly natural as
any other mode that God uses to effect his purposes.”
“ If what is called natural means, and what aie called
divine interpositions, and what is called miracle, are all
4 equally the methods, uniformly pursued by God to reform
and elevate the human character, and unite the spirit cf
man with his Maker, why is it that such different terms
have obtained such general use 1 I wish you to reca¬
pitulate a little on this subject,” said Mr Henderson.
Mrs Henderson replied. The different states of the
human mind, which God always regards in his dealings
with us, require these different methods, to produce the
same result, which is, union with him, and consequent
21
PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER.
21
happiness. These different methods are noticed by us
while the causes for them are disregarded. Mankind are
prone to look out of themselves for a cause, and are too in¬
attentive to the similar states of mind, which are followed
by similar providences; and hence the erroneous ideas of
the different modes of operation, which are considered ar¬
bitrary in cases of providential interference and miracles,
while his ordinary dealings are supposed to be by estab¬
lished laws, which, when once arranged, are afterwards
abandoned by him to their own consequences. The dif¬
ferent phraseology is necessary to distinguish the different
methods; and if the terms were used only to designate
the different states of mind and circumstances of man¬
kind, there would be no false notions imbibed.”
“ This is a different view of the subject from any
I have ever before taken,” said Mr Henderson ; “ and
certainly it is more consistent with the character of God,
than to suppose, as I have hitherto done, that in all the
common concerns of life he holds himself at a distance,
and is unconcerned how the world is going on ; and that
it is only on great occasions, and in uncommon circum¬
stances, he condescends to interfere with the established
order of things. In the view you have given, God is
intimately acquainted with every event of every individ¬
ual, even to his smallest emotion, as well as his general
state of feeling ; and he adapts every circumstance to
the exact state of mind of each individual, at all times,
and in such a manner, as on the whole to be productive
of the greatest benefit to each one of his creatures. I have
never before taken such a view of our relation to God.”
After a short pause, he added in a pensive tone, “ I am
afraid I have never prayed as I ought.”
22 PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER. 22
“ How have you prayed, my dear husband 1 ” asked
his wife. “ You have always been sincere in your prayers,
have you not?”
“ Yes,” replied Mr Henderson, “ I have not been hypo¬
critical certainly. I have prayed sincerely as an act of
devotion to God ; believing it a duty to acknowledge mer¬
cies received, to praise my Maker, to confess my sins and
ask forgiveness. But I have never felt it a privilege, a de¬
light, the highest honor, to be allowed to disclose my
feelings to my God, as really and truly my best friend.
I have never asked divine aid and direction, with a full
and entire conviction, that I was addressing a Being pre¬
sent with me, and able and willing to grant me every
blessing proper for me ; and, especially, I have never for a
moment imagined I must ask him to influence my feel¬
ings and my mind, so as to produce the state which will
be most agreeable to him, and most happy for myself. I
never before conceived this to be the object of prayer. I
have never felt it as I ought. But, I confess, my views
are changed. The ways of Providence seem lighted up
anew. I perceive grounds of resignation in view of
our dear Elizabeth’s death, which were concealed from
me. My faith in God, as the infinitely kind Father of
his children, has gained new strength. Never did my
relation to this gracious Being seem so near and intimate
as it does at this moment. Devotion will henceforward
have delight for me that I have not before been able to
derive from it. You remember the beautiful hymn on the
seasons of prayer which you have so often repeated to
me ? It breathes a spirit in perfect unison with my pre¬
sent feelings.”
23 PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER. 23
SEASONS OF PRAYER.
To prayer, to prayer ;—for the morning breaks,
And earth in her Maker’s smile awakes.
His light is on all below and above,
The light of gladness and life and love.
Oh, then, on the breath of this early air,
Send upward the incense of grateful prayer.
To prayer ;—for the glorious sun is gone,
And the gathering darkness of night comes on.
Like a curtain from God’s kind hand it flows
To shade the couch where his children repose.
Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright,
And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night.
To prayer ;—for the day that God has blest
Comes tranquilly on with its welcome rest.
It speaks of creation’s early bloom;
It speaks of the Prince who burst the tomb.
Then summon the spirit’s exalted powers,
And devote to Heaven the hallowed hours.
There are smiles and tears in the mother’s eyes,
For her new born infant beside her lies.
Oh hour of bliss! when the heart o'erflows
With rapture a mother only knows.
Let it gush forth in words of fervent prayer;
Let it sw r ell up to Heaven for her precious care.
There are smiles and tears in that gathering band,
Where the heart is pledged with the trembling hand.
What trying thoughts in her bosom swell,
As the bride bids parent and home farewell!
Kneel down by the side of the tearful fair,
And strengthen the perilous hour with prayer.
24 PROVIDENCE, FAITH, AND PRAYER*.
Kneel down by the sinner's dying side,
And pray for his soul through him who died.
Large drops of anguish are thick on his brow :
Oh what is earth and its pleasures now 1
And what shall assuage his dark despair,
But the penitent cry of humble prayer ?
Kneel down at the couch of departing faith,
And hear the last words the believer saith.
He has hidden adieu to his earthly friends ;
There is peace in his eye that upward bends ;
There is peace in his calm confiding air;
For his last thoughts are God’s, his last words prayer
The voice of prayer at the sable bier!
A voice to sustain, to sooth, and to cheer.
It commends the spirit to God who gave ;
It lifts the thoughts from the cold dark grave ;
It points to the glory where he shall reign,
Who whispered, ‘ Thy brother shall rise again.’
The voice of prayer in the world of bliss !
But gladder, purer, than rose from this.
The ransomed shout to their glorious King,
Where no sorrow shades the soul as they sing;
But a sinless and joyous song they raise,
And their voice of prayer is eternal praise.
Awake, awake, and gird up thy strength
To join that holy band at length.
To Him, who unceasing love displays,
Whom the powers of nature unceasingly praise,
To Him thy heart and thy hours be given;
For a life of prayer is the life of heaven.
No. 14.
ON
* *
EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
PRINTED
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ON
EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
One of the many random charges brought against
Unitarians at the present day is, that they are no friends
to Experimental Religion; that they know nothing about
it, and being strangers to it themselves, do not seek to
promote it in others. It is true, they are not friends to
what has sometimes been called experimental religion ;
for we think this is an expression, which has had the
fate to be strangely abused and perverted. Many talk
and write about experimental religion, as if it were a
mysterious, unintelligible process or possession, the
badge to be worn by those few only, who are the special
favorites of heaven. They divide the whole world into
but two classes, between whom there is a deep and wide
gulf of separation, and take no note of the various de¬
grees, more or less imperfect, in which the true spirit of
religion may be cherished, and which constitute a very
great diversity in the religious characters of men. What
they understand by experimental religion seems to be a
certain tangible object, which is to be seized or acquired
altogether, or else nothing is gained; it is the result of a
peculiar call of God, comes from influences entirely
1
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
40
supernatural, and is in fact a sort of miraculous power,
which enables them, and them only, to step at once out
of darkness into light, to leave what is termed the world,
and join what is termed the company of the saints.
Hence they sometimes speak of getting religion and
losing religion, as they would speak of getting or losing
property, as if it were an outward possession, and not a
temper of mind and heart; as if it were a certain point,
at which, when they arrive, they are to stop and con¬
gratulate themselves on the possession, and not a princi¬
ple of increase and improvement in piety and holiness;
as if it were a kind of charter for heaven, put into their
hands they know not how nor whence, and insuring to
them by one stirring process the benefits of salvation.
Now these and kindred views, we believe to be as
contradictory to every correct interpretation of scripture,
as they are to the suggestions of the understanding and
of reason. But no one, who is acquainted with the sub¬
ject, will say that, therefore, we believe that there is in
reality no such thing as experimental religion. Very
far from it. We do believe most firmly in its reality and
power. It is an old complaint, that men are governed by
words more than by things. Opinions and feelings are
so much modified by associated ideas, that people are
very apt to look with contempt on what have become
favorite expressions with those, whose opinions they
deem irrational and unscriptural, even when the expres¬
sions themselves may have a true and good meaning.
That this incautious association of ideas has led some
minds to an indiscriminate and unjustifiable dislike of the
phrase experimental religion , w r e do not deny. But it is
in itself a very significant and appropriate, phrase, and
41
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
O
may be so used as to express none but good and just ideas;
nor would we by any means reject it, because it has some¬
times been abused by the unskilful or the fanatical.
Experimental religion, of course, signifies religion, the
influence of which is and has been experienced; aud
when we speak of experiencing religion, we use the same
language, and in the same sense, as when we speak of
experiencing the influence of any principle or emotion,
as of love, joy, sorrow, &c. The language is perfectly
plain and intelligible in the one case, and there is no rea¬
son why it should not be equally plain and intelligible in
the other. The word experimental is sometimes opposed
to theoretical ; thus we speak of an experimental farmer,
meaning thereby one who carries into practice all those
rules of good husbandry which he has learned from ex_
perience. It is sometimes opposed to a mere display of
ivords ; as when we say such a man may talk about trouble
but another knows it by experience. And in general, in
connexion with whatever subject it may be used, it de¬
notes personal, practiced acquaintance with the subject.
Just so it is in religion. When we speak of it as experi¬
mental, we understand by it that thorough vital religion,
which is planted in the heart, and sanctifies the thoughts,
the purposes and the life, and which stands opposed to
mere speculation, or mere profession, to idle clamors or
boastful words.
I will endeavor to point out what I conceive to be the
elements, which enter into the composition of experimen¬
tal religion, when it is rightly understood, and exhibited
in a scriptural, just and solemn form.
1. One requisite to experimental religion is, that we
should receive the truths of religion as realities; I mean
VOL. ii. 1*
6
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
42
that they should stand forth to the mind, as having a dis¬
tinct existence, in bright colors, with as much definite
certainty, as if they lived and breathed before us. And
this is not so common nor so easy as we may suppose it to
be. It is without doubt common and easy to give our as¬
sent to religious truths; but this we may do, and yet
those truths may be no realities to us. We may assent
to them, because the evidence which accompanies them,
is too strong to be resisted or refuted ; but to have them
actually present to the mind in the freshness of vivid ex¬
istence, is quite a different thing. There are certainly
many truths which we do not and cannot deny, but which
we never realize,—many to which the understanding con¬
sents, but which pass across the mental vision like fleet¬
ing clouds, whose changing tints die aw r ay upon the eye j
or like those mists which roll off in dim and shadowy sue-
cession, and are forgotten. The arm that is palsied may
be as useless as if it were severed from the body ; so that
belief in religion, which is weakened and neutralized by
the want of a distinct and powerful feeling of reality, may
be as inefficacious as if it did not exist at all.
Take a few instances, in which each one may appeal
to his own consciousness.
We say and we believe, that there is a God, a living
Spirit, who formed and who sustains the universe, and
who is present in every part of it by his knowledge and
agency. But do we realize this great truth ? Is it as much
an object of constant and unfailing certainty to our minds
as the existence of our friends and associates here on
earth ? Does it attend us in our meditations and our
pursuits, as a truth upon which we act, and which gives a
cast and color to our views and purposes ? Is it not to be
43
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
7
feared, that after all, it is frequently only a formal consent
of a mind which sees God in nothing, and nothing in God ?
Thus likewise it is an object of rational belief with us,
that God exercises over us a natural and moral govern*
ment, designed to train us up to holiness and happiness.
But let conscience say whether this truth is as much a re¬
ality to us as the civil government of our country under
which we live. Are we as habitually and firmly persuaded
of the one as of the other ? Do the law r s of the divine
administration present themselves as actually and definite¬
ly to our minds, as the laws of the land, by which we are
bound to regulate our conduct ? Must we not confess,
that these truths are something less real to our feelings
and conceptions in the one case, than-in the other?—
Again : it is a point of belief with us, that we are account¬
able beings, that we are responsible to a high and awful
tribunal for our time and our talents, our privileges and
means,—that “ we shall all stand before the judgment
seat of Christ,”—and that “ every one of us must
give account of himself to God."—Now are we prepared
to say that this truth is a solemn reality with us ? Do we
actually feel it to be as much so as our legal and pecuni¬
ary obligations to our fellow men ? Examine it by this test,
and see if the hold which we have on this most moment¬
ous truth be not quite too feeble and nominal,—if there
be not that chilling want of reality, which cripples our
faith and robs it of its power.—Once more ; we believe
in the history of Jesus Christ, of all that he did, and
taught and suffered for the salvation of man. But let us
put the question to our hearts,—have we a realizing sense
of what we owe to this Heavenly Benefactor ? Have we
as keen and vivid a feeling of the services and love of the
8
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
44
blessed Saviour, as we have of the poor, short-lived kind,
ness of our earthly friends ? Alas! for us, that God should
in the Gospel reach forth the arm of his mercy to lift us up
and bless us, and yet that we should look upon it with
cold indifference.
I have mentioned these merely as instances of the state
of mind, to which I have alluded,—a state of lethargy
and deadness with regard to the reality of religion. Men
believe or profess to believe what you teach them of the
great truths, which relate to eternity ; but they do not
realize them,—they do not suffer them to be wrought into
the whole texture of their thoughts and feelings, as they
do with respect to those truths which prompt and regu¬
late their mechanical, agricultural or mercantile pur¬
suits.—Now it is manifest, that while they remain in such
a state, they can have nothing which deserves the name
of experimental religion. On such a soil, at the best,
nothing but stinted shrubbery and half-formed fruits
can ever grow. If we would experience the power of
Christianity, we must love it; and how can we love it, if
we do not realize it ? There must be a strong, vital feel¬
ing, that the great and essential principles of religion are
as. true as that the sun shines upon us, or else “ the king¬
dom of God ” will be to us not “ in power,* 5 but “ in
word 55 only. This persuasion must lie at the foundation
of all experimental holiness of heart.
I know that the sense of the reality of the great truths
relating to God, to his moral government, to our account¬
ableness, and to the solemnities of a future state, may, in
a peculiar state of mental weakness or in the excitement
of passion, operate so blindly, and with such painful in¬
tenseness, as to produce nothing but anguish or dismay of
45
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION
9
spirit; and this distressing perversion of a good thing may
induce us to dread being in earnest about religion. But,
we should remember there is as much difference be¬
tween a solemn and affecting sense of the actual truth of
religion, and that agonizing feeling which crushes the
heart, as there is between health and sickness, between
a pure atmosphere and pestilent vapors. Lay it down for
a first principle, that there must be something more than a
faint, nominal, misty and loose belief in the great doc.
trines of Christianity, if we would have them come upon
our souls in their power and purity,—that, in short, there
can be no such thing as experimental religion, without a
deep and earnest feeling of the reality of its truths and
principles.
2. Another essential requisite to experimental religion
is a sense of personal interest in the subject. It is not
enough to believe in the truths of the Gospel; it is not
enough even to have a deep feeling of their reality. We
must go further; we must appropriate them personally to
ourselves, to our own warning, our own improvement, and
our own encouragement. This is an indispensable step
in the process by which the power of Christianity is
brought into the heart and enthroned there. No man
ever experienced religion, in any rational sense, who did
not consider its great and solemn truths as applicable to
himself, to his own peculiar moral condition, his own
spiritual wants, his sorrows, his temptations, and his sins.
It is very easy to be loud in the praises of Christianity, to
bestow upon it splendid and eloquent applause, to think
and speak of it as a glorious and beautiful dispensation,
to tell how it stimulates and fills the vast spiritual desires
of the human breast, how it relieves every want, and
10
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
46
brightens all despondency ; to be wrapt into admira¬
tion at the light which it sheds on eternity, at the ever¬
lasting hopes which it holds out to the aspirations of man,
at the dignity and elevation which it imparts to the affec¬
tions of our nature that cleave to immortality ; it is, I say,
very easy to think and talk in this glowing strain, and
yet have no feeling of a personal interest in this most
blessed gift of God to man. We may consider it in
every point of view, except that in which it touches our
hearts, and addresses itself to our souls. We may re¬
gard it as that, in which mankind in general have an
interest, but in which ice have no peculiar interest. Thus
we may please ourselves with a sort of romantic warmth
about it, and forget meanwhile that its vital power has
never gone down into our hearts.
Now this general, vague, superficial way of thinking
and feeling will never be sufficient to make religion a
matter of experimental acquaintance to the heart of the
individual. It is certainly important to have and to
cherish these large and noble views of religion, and of
the benefits it has conferred on the human race. But
we must penetrate more deeply into its spirit, if we would
personally know its power. We must go with it into
our closets, and commune with it alone, and submit our
motives, desires, and purposes to its strict and unsparing
scrutiny, however painful it may be. We must retire
from those wide considerations, which connect it with
the world around us, and view ourselves as the peculiar
objects of its counsels, its precepts, its warnings, its
hopes, and its fears. Religion must be permitted to ad¬
dress us, as Nathan addressed David ; it must say, “ thou
art the man.” It must not stand before us in the dis*
47
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
11
tance, merely as a bright vision to gratify our sense of
the moral sublime ; it must be felt in its presence and
nearness, as a subject of personal concern, and as bring¬
ing an errand from God to our hearts and souls. All
this it must certainly do, or it cannot be experimental
religion.
Does the voice of nature and of revelation teach us
that there is a God, an Infinite Spirit, who rules all
worlds ? Then let each one say—this God is my Father,
my Creator, my Governor, and will be my Judge.—Are
we taught that we stand responsible to the bar of heaven
for the use of all our gifts and privileges ? Let every
individual, then, consider how this awful truth bears upon
him personally, and what answer lie could give, were he
now summoned to his final account.—Does Christianity
present to us that Saviour, who came to bring light and
pardon to a world lying in darkness and sin, and to
purify unto himself a peculiar people zealous of good
works ? ” Then let every one solemnly ask himself—
has Christianity been to me personally “ the power of God
and the wisdom of God unto salvation?” Have I im¬
bibed the spirit and imitated the example of him, who
lived and died for me ?—And does the Gospel teach us,
that our spirits go not down to the dust with our bodies,
but are made for immortality and retribution ? Does it
disclose to our view the world beyond the grave, in which
“ tribulation and anguish shall be upon every soul of man
that doeth evil, bat glory, honor, and peace to every
man that worketh good ? ” Let this solemn thought,
then, personally affect each one of us; and let every
heart seek earnestly for itself, that “ an entrance may be
ministered into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and
12
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
48
Saviour, Jesus Christ.”—By such applications as these,
of the searching truths of Christianity, our religion may
become a personal concern ; and this will be one of the
effectual means of making it experimental. When, there¬
fore, the instructions and exhortations of divine truth oc¬
cur to thy mind, do not meet them with the cold reflec¬
tion that they belong to others ; be assured, that they be¬
long to thee, that thou hast a personal concern in them of
imperishable and everlasting value. Then shalt thou
know by thine own experience the strengthening and re¬
freshing influence of heavenly truth; then shalt thou
. have u rejoicing in thyself, and not in another.”
3. The last step, which I shall mention, in the acquisi¬
tion of experimental religion is, that it must be within us
a governing principle of life and conduct. Without this,
all the rest is useless.—It is in vain that we realize the
truths of Christianity as having an actual and distinct
existence ; it is in vain that we view them as applicable
in a personal manner to ourselves, unless they become
habitual principles of action, and manifest themselves in
all the ways of good living. Till they have become so,
though they may, like barren trees, stand forth in form
and comeliness, yet they have no deep, vigorous roots,
and are laden with no precious fruits. Let it appear
that religion pervades the life, that its spirit is infused
into our temper and conduct, that our daily thoughts,
motives, and purposes are purified and consecrated by
its influences,—then, and then only, will it be experi¬
mental religion.
This is the ultimate test, by which the profession of a
personal acquaintance with the spirit of Christianity is
to be tried and proved. It is easy and common enough
49 ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION. 13
to talk in vague and high-wrought strains about conver¬
sion and about experimental religion ; but to manifest, in
our daily conduct and dispositions, the experience of real
religion in our hearts is much more difficult, and at the
same time incomparably better and more satisfactory.
There is something very deceptive to many minds in
the practice, which is so common, of pointing out a spe¬
cific time, when a certain swell of feeling—they scarce¬
ly know what or whence—passed over their minds ; in
supposing themselves to have been brought out of dark¬
ness into marvellous light by one process, if not instantly;
and in loving the mere means and observances of Chris¬
tianity. While they become deeply engaged in these
things, they are apt to mistake the warmth and eagerness,
which they excite, for a real, personal interest in religion
itself.
The object at which all the means and institutions of
the Gospel aim, is purity of heart and life; without this,
its purpose is not answered. Men may say what they
will; but Christ and his Apostles teach us, that we have
no more religion than we have moral goodness, no more
piety than we have virtue. All the professions, all the
fervor, all the excitement in the world are as erppty and
unmeaning, as the babbling of a noisy brook, if they do
not make us better. And by this, I mean really and prac¬
tically better, as Christians and as members of society. I
do not mean making us think ourselves a great deal better
than all the rest of the world, and say in the spirit of
the Pharisee of old—“ God, I thank thee that I am not
as other men are/’ and deny the name and character of
Christians to those around us, whose lives and conduct
are at least as near the Christian standard, as our own.
VOL. II. 2
14
OX EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
50
We are free to confess, that the only experimental religion,
which we deem valuable, is that which consists in being
good and doing good on Christian principles and with
Christian motives,—and not that, which consists only or
mainly in certain floating feelings and mysterious trans¬
actions between God and the soul. The man, whose
life manifests that the flame of piety is burning, like a
holy fire, upon the altar of the heart within, who, like
his Saviour, 44 goes about doing good,” who lives under
a solemn sense of his accountableness in the sight of
God, who receives the blessings, that fall to his lot, with
a devout remembrance of the great source from which
they come, and bows himself to affliction with a full per¬
suasion that it is administered by the hand of paternal
mercy, and with the spirit of submission that says, 44 Fa¬
ther, not my will, but thine be done/' who habitually
connects in his thoughts earth with heaven, and time
with eternity, who “ uses this world, as not abusing it,
remembering that the fashion thereof passeth away,”
who daily lives “ as seeing God who is invisible,” never
forgetting that 44 the things which are seen are temporal,
while the things that are unseen are eternal,”—this is he,
who has, in the only proper and Gospel sense, experimen¬
tal religion , for he only it is, who gives an undeniable
and standing proof, that Christianity is with him a prac¬
tical, guiding, governing principle of conduct.
These, then, we conceive to be the elementary prin¬
ciples of what may be truly called experimental religion ;
first, that the great truths of Christianity must be hearti*
ly received as strong and distinct realities ; second, that
they must be embraced in their application to ourselves
personally, as something in which we have a peculiar
51
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
15
concern ; and third, that they must become principles ot
conduct, pervading the life, sanctifying the motives, and
forming the habits of the soul. In this explanation of
the subject, I think, we have the sanction alike of Scrip¬
ture and of reason, and are unembarrassed by any thing
of a fanatical or visionary nature.
From this statement, it is plain that experimental re¬
ligion, taken in its true sense, is not to be acquired or fin¬
ished by one effort or by one process. Some people
talk of experiencing religion at a particular time, as it
it were to be done but once, or all at once. This is
certainly a very strange notion. We must experience
religion, not once merely, or at a certain time, but every
day and at all times ; that is, religion must always be at
our side, as our guide, counsellor, friend, and support.
It must be interwoven with our whole moral and spirit¬
ual frame. It must enter into the composition of the
character in all its parts, and not be borne in upon it,
as a distinct, independent, foreign substance. It does
not come at a particular moment, like the sudden ar¬
rival of a stranger, who merely takes up his abode with
us, without feeling any interest in our every day business
and pursuits; it is rather an unreserved and familiar
friend, whose intimacy grows every day more close and
dear, and who enters constantly and heartily into all
the common cares and duties, which “ the Providence
of God hath adopted into the family of religion.” In
short, its true nature cannot be so well set forth, as in
that beautiful description by our Saviour; “ And he
said, so is the kingdom of God, as if a man should cast
seed into the ground, and should sleep and rise night
and day, and the seed should spring and grow up, he
16
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
52
knoweth not how. For the earth bringeth forth fruit
of herself, first the blade, then the ear, after that the
full corn in the ear. 75
And now if you ask, how this experimental religion is
to be acquired, the answer is, by the use of the means
which God has appointed for the purpose. These means
are the habitual study of the Scriptures, especially of
the words of Jesus Christ, devout and heartfelt prayer,
attendance upon the institutions and ordinances of the
Gospel, the perusal of good books, a serious improvement
of the events of God’s providence, &c. Those afflictive
dispensations, which bring our thoughts to a solemn
pause, are our teachers ; the examples of the good and
the bad are our teachers; death is our teacher: and
Christianity, properly understood, is a system of means
for the formation of a holy character, for the purifi¬
cation of the heart, and the salvation of the soul. In all
these ways is experimental religion to be acquired.
In saying this, I do not deny that spiritual influences
from above are concerned in the production of a religious
frame of mind. On the contrary, I believe most sincerely
in those influences, when explained scripturally and ra¬
tionally ; but I do not believe that ecstacies, and visions,
and vicissitudes of the animal spirits are those influences.
The agency of the spirit of God comes to us now in
the channel of appointed means, or coincides with the
operation of these means, so as not to be distinguished
from them. If it be not so, then the age of miracles has
not, as is commonly supposed, gone by. Men are too apt
to be dissatisfied with the moral constitution of things, as
established by God. The regular means of religion seem
tame and spiritless to diseased imaginations ; they crave
53
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
17
something out of the common course, an inspiration
from above pointed at the individual, a peculiar call,
a privileged selection from the rest of mankind. But
the Gospel bids us expect no such thing ; and it deserves
well to be considered by every one, whether the kind of
religion, which is acquired in this way, be so likely to be
strong, useful, and permanent,—in short, to be really ex¬
perimental religion , as that, which has become engrained
in the whole texture of the soul by a long and gradual
process, is connected with every principle of moral action,
and operates like a good leaven in the whole of the life
and character. The celebrated Dr Owen, who was one of
the most eminent champions of “ orthodoxy” in his day,
has well remarked that, £< as water, that ariseth and flow-
eth from a living spring, runneth equally and constantly,
unless it be obstructed or diverted by some violent oppo¬
sition, but that, which is from thunder-showers, runs furi¬
ously for a season, but is quickly dried up; so are those
spiritual thoughts, which arise from a prevalent internal
principle of grace in the heart; they are even and con¬
stant, unless an interruption be put upon them for a season
by temptations; but those, which are excited by the
thunder of convictions, however their streams may be
filled for a season, quickly dry up and utterly decay.”
Finally—We think that religion is experienced differ¬
ently by different individuals ; in some, by a more striking
and rapid operation of the means of grace, than ordinary ;
in others, by a gradual and quiet incorporation of Christ¬
ianity into the soul from childhood to old age. The remark
has been made, and it is an excellent one, that “ we should
neither prescribe our personal experiences and feelings as
a rule for others, nor make the experiences and feelings of
18
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
54
others a law to us.” We do not think that experimental re¬
ligion is showy and noisy, that it seeks public exhibitions,
and is not satisfied till it has been registered before the
world, or that it loves to blow a trumpet, or hang out a flag ;
for we are accustomed to believe that quick and ostenta¬
tious effects are not generally the best effects, nor the only
true indications of the progress of real Christianity, nor
the only sure evidences of the blessing of Heaven upon
a pastor’s labors. We do not deem that sort of commo¬
tion to be very desirable, in the confusion of which the
mind mistakes the glow of emotion for permanent piety,
and the fervors of imagination for signs of grace ; for
we have seen enough to convince us that the whole soul
may be smitten down in fear and despair, or lifted up
with swelling raptures, without any impressions being pro¬
duced, which are permanently religious. We think our¬
selves justified in supposing it to be spiritual pride, rather
that an experience of religion, which leads men to speak
of their fellow Christians as children of darkness and of
wrath, to pity the whole world besides themselves, to re¬
gard and to talk of the inclosures, within which their
sects have fenced themselves, as a kind of privileged
Goshen, and to thank God, with a very strange sort of grat¬
itude, that he has made them so much wiser and holier
than other human beings. We do not think, that an ex¬
perimental acquaintance with Christianity requires us to
make boastful comparisons of ourselves with others, nor
to point the finger of reproach at such of our fellow men,
as do not see with our eyes on religious subjects. But we
do believe, that experimental religion is a religion which
is seated in the heart, and sends out thence its influences
on the life ; that it is a principle of internal purity and
55
ON EXPERIMENTAL RELIGION.
19
heavenly mindedness ; that it is something very different
from that pretended religion which enlightens perhaps,
but does not warm • very different from that empty form
of Christianity which floats around the heart, without
ever becoming a sanctifying power, and which leaves men
with a name to live, yet dead ; that it brings the truths
of the Gospel home to the bosoms and consciences of
»
mankind, and thus awakens the sinner from the sleep of
spiritual death and animates the saint to a still better pro¬
gress in the Christian course; that its essence is in that
faith which works by love, without which it is impossible
to please God, and in that holy life, which to use the
words of a pious writer —“ is the only perfection of re¬
pentance, and the firm ground upon which we can cast
the anchor of hope in the mercies of God through Jesus
Christ.” Such we conceive Experimental Religion to
be; and our prayer, and we trust our labor is, that it
“ may have free course, and be glorified."
)
1st series.
No. 20.
ON
THE DOCTRINE
OF TWO NATURES IN
JESUS CHRIST.
BY ALVAN BAMSOAT.
PRINTED TOR THE
American Unitarian Association.
BOSTON,
BOWLES AND DEARBORN, 50 , WASHINGTON STREET.
1828 .
Price 5 Cents .
The present tract is, in part, a reprint of an article contributed
by the author to the fifth volume of the “ Unitarian Miscellany,”
and afterwards published in a separate form, and entitled “ An
Essay on the Doctrine of two natures in Jesus Christ.” The
greater part has been rewritten, and some important arguments
and illustrations added.
BOSTON,
Press of I. R. Butts & Co.
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
IN
JESUS CHRIST.
The doctrine of the Trinity is embarrassed with nu¬
merous difficulties, and these difficulties multiply and
strengthen, in proportion as its several parts and append¬
ages are brought distinctly into view. The hypothesis
of two natures in Jesus Christ we deem one of its hea¬
viest encumbrances. The trinity supposes the truth of
this hypothesis ; it may be said, in fact, to rest upon
it as its basis, and with it must stand or fall. This
circumstance has not, we fear, received the attention
it deserves. It is true that the advocates for the
strict and proper unity of the Divine Being, have "oc¬
casionally argued from the absurdity of ascribing to an
individual a finite and an infinite nature, but the argu¬
ment has not been urged with due frequency and earnest¬
ness. For ourselves, we place great reliance upon it *,
it has a force, we think, which is not easily resisted ;
and could we bring no other, we should consider this
alone sufficient to put the question of the truth or false¬
hood of opposite views at rest for ever.
4
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
184
Let us carefully weigh the doctrine of a double nature
in Jesus Christ; let us see to what it amounts, and
take a view of some of the chief objections to it. But
first, let us glance at its origin and history in the early
ages of the church.
We gather from ancient records, that the great bulk of
plain unlettered believers, who derived their knowledge of
Christianity from its first preachers and their immediate
successors, viewed Jesus as a finite and dependent be¬
ing. That this is true of the whole body of Jewish
Christians, during their existence as a church, admits of
no doubt. The uneducated Gentile converts, whose minds
were not fettered by the prejudices of learning, partook
of the same views. The doctrine of Christ’s proper di¬
vinity appears to have encountered from them the stern¬
est opposition ; they dreaded it on account of its sup¬
posed impiety, thinking, that it infringed on the supre¬
macy of the Father, and it was not till it had sustained
severe and protracted struggles, that it finally obtained
currency.
The learned converts from Paganism are entitled to
the credit of introducing it. These converts, several
of them at least, came fresh from the schools of Alexan¬
dria in Egypt, where they had become deeply imbued
with the doctrines of the later Platonists, and on em¬
bracing Christianity took along with them the sentiments
there imbibed. The consequence was, that as early as
the former part of the second century, the religion of
Jesus began to be corrupted, and its simple truths be¬
came disfigured, by an unnatural union with a specula¬
tive and earth-born philosophy.
Justin Martyr, A. D. 140, led the way by transferring
185
IN JESUS CHRIST.
the Platonic doctrine of the divine reason (logos) to
Christianity. This reason, originally considered an attri¬
bute of the Father, he converted into a proper person,
making it to constitute the divine nature of Jesus. The
first step having been taken, further innovations followed,
and the work of corruption soon went on apace. It was
aided in its progress by Clemens of Alexandria, A. D.
192, and especially by Origen, A. D. 239, a man of
subtle and fervid genius, but of an extravagant imagina¬
tion, and weak judgment, and a very prolific writer. The
fame of Origen attracted numerous followers, who, after¬
wards dispersing into various parts, Cl everywhere,” to
use an expression of the learned Brucker, “ sowed the
field of God with tares.”
The doctrine of the trinity, however, as explained by
the Fathers of the first three centuries, we feel author¬
ized to say, was very different from the modern orthodox
doctrine. The perfect equality of the Son with the
Father they never dreamed of asserting. Justin Martyr,
as the complexion of his whole language testifies, evi¬
dently held the belief of his strict and proper inferiority ;
and such seems to have been the faith of all the Christian
writers of any celebrity before the Council of Nice,
A. D. 325. It is unnecessary to adduce passages in
corroboration of this statement, as its truth has been
admitted by several learned trinitarians best acquainted
with the writings of Christian antiquity. Among those
who have conceded it fully, or in substance, it is suffi¬
cient to mention the learned Jesuit Petavius, and Cud-
worth, the profound author of the “ Intellectual System,”
both orthodox authorities.
The Fathers of the Council of Nice asserted the di-
i*
VOL. II.
(5
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
1SG
vinity of the Son, but not his individual identity with the
Father. He was consubstantial , as they expressed it,
with the Father, that is, as they understood it, was in
all respects similar, partook of the same specific nature,
though not of the same numerical essence ; as one man is
of the same substance, or species, with another, though
possessing distinct individuality. The Councils of Ephe¬
sus, A. D. 431, and Chalcedon, A. D. 451, occasioned
by the controversies of the Nestorians and Eutychians,
the former of whom were accused of dividing the person,
and the latter of confounding the natures, of Jesus Christ,
appear to have succeeded but little better than that of
Nice in defining his divinity, though they undertook to
determine the nature and results of its union with hu¬
manity. The Council of Chalcedon, particularly, claims
the merit of having ascertained and settled the doctrine
of the incarnation, which, according to its creed, is in
substance as follows. Jesus Christ is truly God and
man, perfect in both natures , consiibstantial with the Fa¬
ther with respect to his divinity , and consubstantial with
us with respect to his humanity; the two natures , the
divine and human , are indissolubly united in him without
confusion or change , each retaining all its former attri¬
butes , yet so united as to form one person .
The doctrine of the union of the divine and human
natures in the person of Jesu3 Christ, as held by the or¬
thodox of succeeding ages, and received by trinitarians
of the present day, does not differ in any important par¬
ticulars from that established by the council of Chalce¬
don, except, perhaps, that the term consubstantial , which
the Fathers of that council, to preserve consistency, must
have explained to mean only a specific , would be under-
187
IN JESUS CHRIST.
4
stood by the moderns to express an individual or numer¬
ical identity.
Dr Barrow, one of the most distinguished of the old
English divines, thus expresses himself on the subject.
“ We may, with the holy Fathers, and particularly with
the great council of Chalcedon, assert, that in the incar¬
nation of our 1 ord, the two natures, the divine and hu¬
man, were united, without any confusion or commixtion ;
for such a way of blending would induce a third nature
different from both ; such a commixtion being supposed,
our Lord would be neither God nor man, but another
third kind of substance, that would destroy, diminish, or
alter the properties of each; which is unsound to say,
and impossible to be ; wherefore both natures in this
mystery do subsist entire, distinct, and unconfused, each
retaining its essential and natural properties.'’
After some further remarks of a similar character, he
adds, “ The natures were joined undividedly ;—there is
but one Christ , one person, to whom, being God, and
being man, are truly and properly attributed.”
“ The same person never ceased to be both God and
man ; not even then, when our Lord as man did undergo
death ; for he raised himself from the dead, he reared
the temple of his own body, being fallen ; as being God,
he was able to raise himself, as being man, he was capa¬
ble of being raised by himself; the union between God
and man persisting, when the union between human
body and soul was dissolved.”*
The church of England, following in the steps of the
unreformed Catholic church, determines that, “ the Son
—took man’s nature—so that two whole and perfect na~
* E^rrow’s Works, Vol. ii. p. 255. Ed. 1716.
8
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
188
tures, that is to say, the Godhead and manhood were
joined together in one person, never to be divided, where¬
of is one Christ, very God and very man. 3 ' Art. sec.—
It is added by an expositor, the essential properties of
one nature were not communicated to the other nature
—each kept his respective properties distinct, without
the least confusion in their most intimate union. 33 *
il In whatever way, 33 says Professor Stuart, “ the
union of the two natures was effected, it neither de¬
stroyed nor essentially changed either the divine or the
human nature. 33 He supposes Christ to be “ God omnis¬
cient and omnipotent; and still a feeble man of imperfect
knowledge. 33
It is unnecessary to add more to show what the re¬
ceived opinion on this subject is.—The doctrine of the
union of the two natures in the person of Jesus Christ,
in the form in which it is stated in the above extracts, is
admitted, as far as we know, by all genuine trinitarians*
No one of them doubts that Christ was perfect man ; no
one of them professes to doubt that he was also perfect
God. According to this doctrine, when fairly stated, an
infinite nature with all its essential attributes of omnis¬
cience, omnipotence, necessary and everlasting exist¬
ence, incapable of suffering or change, was indissolubly
united in the person of Jesus Christ, with a finite nature,
with all its properties, as imperfect knowledge, weakness,
exposure to sorrow, pain, and death, in such a manner,
that the two natures remain for ever distinct, each retain¬
ing unaltered all its former attributes.
Now to this extraordinary doctrine we have several
strong objections. Before proceeding to state them,
* Prettyman, Elements of Christian Theology, Vol. ii.
189
IN JESUS CHRIST.
9
however, we will pause to make one observation suggest¬
ed by the foregoing narrative. If is this: There is a
strong antecedent probability, that the doctrine will be
found, upon examination, to be equally unsupported by
scripture and by reason. It appears from ecclesiastical
history that the simple and unlearned Christians of the
earlier and purer ages of the church knew nothing about
it; that the first traces of it are found among the learned
Platonizing converts ; that its features were at first rudo
and imperfect; that it from time to time received modifi¬
cations and additions as the disciples of the Egyptian
philosophy, the most absurd that ever disgraced the hu¬
man intellect, flowed i ito the church ; that it w T as long
opposed on account of its antichristian tendency ; that so
late as the end of the third century, it had not succeeded
in eradicating from the minds of the generality of Chris¬
tians, learned or unlearned, the great doctrine of the in¬
ferior and derived nature of the Son ; and finally, that it
gathered strength and was matured amid storms of con¬
troversy, at a time when the principles of sound criticism
and just reasoning had fallen into contempt. That such
a doctrine, growing up with the worst philosophy of the
worst times, should originally have sprung from the bo¬
som of Christianity, and not from the vicious systems of
human speculation, in the midst of which it was nur¬
tured, that it should have remained hidden for years in
the records of our Saviour’s instructions, and the writings
of his apostles, and its existence there not have been
suspected till the Alexandrian Platonists pointed it out,
is a supposition altogether too extravagant for credit.
Its late rise, in union with the philosophical jargon of the
age, to which it was wedded, and from which it was con«
10
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
190
te <t to tv rrow its terms and illustrations, renders it diffi¬
cult, if not impossible, for us to believe, that it was one
of the truths, which either our Saviour or his apostles
were commissioned to impart to the world. In tracing
its history, indeed, we gather, at every step, evidence of
its human and earthly origin.
Our piincipal objections to the orthodox distinction
of two natures in Jesus Christ are, that it involves an ab¬
surdity ; that it destroys the personal unity of Jesus, and
introduces strange perplexity into our conceptions of his
character ; that it exposes him to the charge of equivoca¬
tion and dishonesty ; that it destroys the efficacy of his
example, and nullifies his instructions ; that it is unne¬
cessary, and fails of the object for which it is alleged to be
wanted ; that it thus carries with it irresistible evidence
of its falsehood, it bears all the marks of a most improba¬
ble and extravagant fiction ; and finally, that after the
most careful search, we find no traces of it in the sacred
writings.
In the first place, we think that the doctrine of two
natures in Jesus Christ, as held by its advocates, is ab¬
surd, and consequently that no evidence whatever would
be sufficient to establish it. Before we believe it, we
must abandon the use of our understandings ; we must
free ourselves from a disposition to weigh evidence;
we must have the convenient pliancy of mind, the
happy facility of belief, to which the good father had
attained, when he said, “ I believe, because it is impossi¬
ble.” If we reflect for a moment on the qualities of the
divine and human natures, we must, one would think,
be convinced, that they can never be united in the same
mind or person. They are absolutely incompatible with
191
IN JESUS CHRIST,
11
each other; they cannot possibly exist together in the
same intelligent agent. What are the attributes of the
divine and human natures'? God is infinite, everlasting,
immutable, omnipotent, omniscient, and infallible. Man
is finite, limited in knowledge and power, weak, erring,
subject to vicissitude, disease, and death. Now, let any
one, who ventures to use his understanding, say whether
these qualities are compatible with each other. For our¬
selves, we think they are such, that their union in the
same being is naturally impossible. It i the union of
infinite and finite, of knowledge and ignorance, of power
and weakness, of perfection and imperfection. We may
as well talk of the union of light and darkness, or of
any two qualities, of which the one necessarily implies
the negation or absence of the other.
What is the consequence of the union of divine and
human attributes in the same mind or being, on the sup¬
position, admitted by trinitarians, that the two natures
remain distinct, none of the qualities of either being
lost or changed 1 Why, that a being may be at the
same time infinite and finite ; that he may be omnipo¬
tent, yet partake of weakness and infirmity, and be
unable of himself to do all things; that he may be om¬
niscient, yet be ignorant of many things ; that he may
be the Author of the universe, yet a wailing infant,
wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger;
a being incapable of pain and suffering, yet a man of
sorrows, who expired on the cross, was placed in a
shroud, and slept in the tomb. Now if this be not
contradiction and absurdity, we confess we know not
what contradiction and absurdity are.
We do not think our opponents very fortunate in their
12
DOCTRINE OP TWO NATURES
192
attempts to illustrate the doctrine of two natures in
Jesus Christ by comparison. Thus we are told, that
for an explanation of it we must look into ourselves,
and consider the union of soul and body in man ; “ for
as the reasonable soul and flesh is one man, so God and
man is one Christ. 5 ’ Such is the language of the Atha-
nasian creed. The comparison it sugg *sts has been a
favorite one with the assertors of the theological doctrine
of the incarnation, from the time this doctrine came into
vogue to the present day. That such has been the fact,
we think a remarkable instance of the effect of heredi¬
tary prejudices in blinding the understanding, and of the
lamentable weakness of human nature, which induces
men to listen to flimsy argument and mere sophistry,
when employed in the support of received opinions.
The comparison of the two natures of Jesus Christ
with the union of spirit and body in ourselves, may serve
to introduce confusion and darkness into a person’s ideas,
in consequence of which he may lose sight of the absur¬
dity of the hypothesis, which it is meant to illustrate ;—
perhaps he may think, that he has, at length, hit upon a
parallel, which solves all difficulties. But a little sober
reflection, we think, must abate his confidence. To us
the two cases appear totally dissimilar. Man is a com¬
plex being, very different from that compound being,
which Christ is represented by our adversaries to be.
If you admit the common distinction, and say that man
is made up of matter and spirit, and then inquire what
is his nature, the only general and intelligible answer
to this inquiry is, that it is those properties, corporeal
and mental, which result from his constitution and phy¬
sical organization ; that is, all those qualities, which con-
193
IN JESUS CHRIST.
13
stitute him what in his present state he is. Now it can¬
not be said, that any of these qualities are incompatible
with others. There is nothing in any of them, which
makes it a contradiction or absurdity to suppose, that
they may all exist together in the same subject. You
may, indeed, affirm of apart, what is not true of the whole
of man. You may say of his body, that it has extension
and solidity, and attribute to his mind perception, memo¬
ry, judgment; but here is no contradiction. You do not
attribute to him, as an individual or whole , opposite qual¬
ities. You do not ascribe to his person qualities or
acts so utterly repugnant, that one necessarily excludes the
other, as light excludes darkness, or omnipotence, weak¬
ness. Our objection to the union of two natures in the
person of Jesus Christ, is, that it brings together an assem¬
blage of qualities, which are incompatible with each other ;
that it ascribes to Christ, as an individual or person,
properties between which there is such an utter repug¬
nance, such direct opposition, that they cannot exist to¬
gether in the same subject. Trinitarians affirm, that Christ
is perfect God and perfect man ; consequently he must
have all the qualities of both, as omnipotence and weak¬
ness, infallibility and fallibility, infinite knowledge and
limited and partial information ; and these qualities are
affirmed of him in a personal character. Man presents
no phenomenon resembling this; no such combination of
incongruous and opposite qualities.
To say of Christ, that he is divine and human, infi¬
nite and finite, omnipotent and weak, is to assert nothing
more strange or mysterious, it is contended, than to af¬
firm of man that he is mortal and immortal. But the
fallacy of this statement is quite obvious. The expres-
VOL. II. 2
14
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
194
sions in question do not belong to the same class, nor
have they any real, but only a seeming resemblance.
When we say that man is mortal and immortal, we do
not employ terms, which, in the connexion in which
they stand, have any opposition or repugnance ; they
are not, in fact, opposites ; they convey no incompatible
ideas. What we affirm in one part of the proposition we
do not deny in the other. By the assertion, man is mor¬
tal, we mean that his present mode of existence will
cease, and by the assertion that he is immortal, we mean
that he will continue in bein 2 T for ever. The two asser-
tions are distinct, but not opposed. We affirm simply
that man will under £0 a chancre at death, but that this
change will not amount to an absolute annihilation of his
being, and in this proposition there is nothing contradic¬
tory or absurd.—A similar explanation may be given of
numerous other propositions, in which the same thing is
apparently affirmed and denied of the same subject.
The terms in different parts of the proposition either
change their signification, or they are used in senses not
really, but only apparently opposed. The same solution,
however, does not apply to the proposition, Christ is
finite and infinite, for the terms here employed are by
their nature wholly opposed, and undergo no change of
signification in the different parts of the proposition.
We affirm, in one breath, that he is finite and not finite,
God and not God, the terms, the whole time, being used
in the same sense, and thus fall into as palpable a con¬
tradiction as could be uttered.
We object, in the second place, to the doctrine of the
two natures in Jesus Christ, as held by trinitarians,
that it destroys his personal unity ; that it makes him
195
IN JESUS CHRIST.
15
two distinct persons, two beings. It is not necessary
for us here to go into the metaphysical inquiry, in what
personality consists. Our common apprehensions are suf¬
ficient to guide us. A person is an intelligent agent ;
he has one will and one consciousness ; he has percep¬
tions and feelings, which he may properly call his own.
Now we maintain, that personality, thus explained, sim¬
ple, undivided personality, and individuality, belonged to
Jesus as truly and properly, as it belongs to any other
being. We maintain, that he is really one—one mind,
one person, one being, having one undivided conscious¬
ness, in a word, that he is one in' the same sense in
which either of us is one. This we hold to be a funda¬
mental and self-evident truth, and we think, that any
hypothesis or view, which is subversive of it, a hypothe¬
sis, which divides Christ, makes him two persons, two
beings, as separate and distinct as any two of us are,
bears the stamp of error on its very face. This conse¬
quence, we hesitate not to say, is chargeable on the views
entertained by trinitarians concerning the divine and
human natures of Christ. They assign to him two en¬
tire and distinct minds; the one infinitely superior to
the human, having distinct properties, views and percep¬
tions, having, in fact, nothing in common with human
nature ; the other, human, having a will, perceptions, and
feelings exclusively its own. This surely makes Christ
two persons, if we understand anything about personal¬
ity ; and two as far removed from each other as infinite
from finite. He possesses, we are informed, proper and
supreme divinity united with a human soul, perfect and
entire in all its capacities and affections. He is God and
man. Now God is an intelligent agent; the human
mind of Christ another intelligent agent; each nature.
16
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
196
we are told, retains its proper attributes,—“ the essential
properties of one are not imparted to the other.” How
it is possible to escape the conclusion, that here are two
intelligent agents, two persons, we acknowledge we are
unable to conjecture. It is really matter of astonish¬
ment to us, that any one, who reflects at all on the sub¬
ject, does not perceive the insuperable difficulties, which
the hypothesis of two natures presents, with regard to
the personal unity of the Saviour.
Trinitarians do not hesitate to ascribe to each of the
two supposed natures of Jesus Christ qualities strictly per¬
sonal. They sometimes speak of him as having the
essential attributes of God—as performing what God
alone can perform; at other times, they describe him
as having the perceptions, and all the sinless infir¬
mities of man ; as being tempted and exposed to suf¬
fering, as we are. It appears surprising, that they do
not perceive that in doing this, they make him tw r o be¬
ings as distinct from each other, as any two of their fel¬
low mortals are, and as remote as God is from man.
It is true that formally, and in w r oids, they ascribe to
him undivided personality. Thus the council of Ephe¬
sus decided in opposition to Nestorius, that the two na¬
tures in Jesus Christ form one person. But this, we
have seen, is an impossible supposition ; the tu 7 o na¬
tures necessarily form two separate and entire agents,
each possessing proper individuality and consciousness;
and as long as each nature retains its peculiar proper¬
ties and affections, they must remain two—two individuals^
persons, agents. No human decrees can alter the na¬
ture of things. Truth is truth, and falsehood is false¬
hood, whether men perceive it or not. Councils may
Yote, that two is one, that two minds and two agents*
197
IN JESUS CHRIST.
17
form one mind, and one agent, but what then ? Can their
votes render that true, which is by the nature of things
impossible or absurd 1
The importance of preserving the strict and proper
unity of Jesus Christ, and the strange confusion and ab¬
surdity, which would result from a belief of his divided
personality and two-fold being, will, and consciousness,
would authorize us to dwell longer on this topic. But
on so plain a point it seems difficult to speak without
becoming trite. To resort to any labored argument,
or abstract process of reasoning, to prove that two
minds, a finite and infinite, divine and human, supposed
to be lodged in the same fleshly tabernacle, yet retaining
each its original, distinct, and proper attributes, necessa¬
rily form two,—two persons, two beings, two agents,
would seem a foolish waste of time and labor. A sim¬
ple statement of the point in debate appears, in our view,
all that is needed. Let the doctrine of the two natures,
in its received form, be fairly explained, we think we
may safely appeal to any person of a plain and unpreju¬
diced mind, and ask whether such a doctrine can possibly
be true. No argument seems necessary to its refutation.
It carries evidence of its falsehood on its very front.
The fact that it violates the personal unity of the Saviour,
assigning to him a double individuality, if we may so
express ourselves, making him in reality two beings, in
the same sense in which God and any one of his intelli¬
gent and finite offspring are two, at once, and fully con¬
demns it.
Our next objection is of a graver character. The
doctrine we are examining, implicates, as we conceive,
VOL. ir. 2*
IS
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
198
the moral character of our Saviour, impeaches his ve¬
racity, and attributes to him deceit, equivocation, and
falsehood. This is a very weighty charge. We cannot
endure to hear the name of Jesus, even by supposition,
coupled with fraud and dishonesty. We regard him as
“ holy, harmless, and undefiled,” in a sense in which no
other being who has ever trodden our earth, has a claim to
be called such. The purity of his mind could not be
surpassed ; it was entire and perfect, partaking of the
brightness of divinity. An inflexible love of truth,
an openness, and beautiful and majestic simplicity, were
among the most striking features of his character.
C O
For these features, for his purity, his ingenuousness, and
his truth, we reverence him, and would combat with our
whole strength whatever views tend to impair or destroy
this reverence. We hold a belief of his integrity among
our firmest, fondest persuasions, and this belief nothing
would tempt us to resign. To be compelled to abandon
it. to have our confidence in the pure character of Jesus
of Nazareth shaken, and be forced to conclude, that in
imparting his doctrines to the world, and even in his
hours of familiar intercourse with his disciples, he made
use of deceit, or mental reservation, would cause us in¬
supportable gloom and anguish. We object to the doc¬
trine of the two natures, that it wrests from us this pre¬
cious persuasion,—a persuasion of his entire sincerity
and explicitness.
Let it not be said, that the doctrine is not chargeable
with any such consequence. It is, according to every
view we can take of it, justly chargeable with it. Thus
we are told that Jesus sometimes spoke and acted in his
human, and sometimes in his divine nature ;"that when
S99
IN JESUS CHRIST.
19
he said, that he could of himself do nothing, he meant,
that as man he could do nothing, although as God he
could do all things; when he declared, that he knew
not the day and hour of judgment, we are to understand
by this declaration, that he was ignorant of it as man,
although he knew it perfectly well as God. Now this,
we affirm, is precisely what, in a fellow mortal, we should
call, by the mildest term, equivocation. It is absolutely
inconsistent with that openness and integrity which we
are authorized, by the laws of social intercourse, to ex¬
pect from each other. When one affirms that he does
not know a thing, he means, if he is an honest man, that
he does not know it in any way whatever. It is vain for
him to allege, that he knows it only in a certain charac¬
ter, that he is ignorant of it as man ; as if a priest should
declare, that he is ignorant of a fact as man, though he
knows it as confessor; or a person should affirm, that
as a corporeal being, he is ignorant of what as an intelli¬
gent or spiritual being he knows well enough. This will
not save him from the charge of equivocation or false¬
hood. Let us beware of ascribing to Christ conduct
which would bethought disingenuous or immoral in a
fellow mortal. If he did not deceive, if he made the or¬
dinary use of language, he could not declare, that he was
ignorant of what he knew in any manner whatever. It
is a poor subterfuge to say, that he was ignorant of it in
his human, though he knew it in his divine nature. No
matter in what way he knew it; if he knew it in either
nature, he knew it in a personal capacity, his person in¬
cluding both natures; that is, he knew it in an absolute
sense; and could not then, with reason or truth, declare
his ignorance of it, AYould his disciples, or those who
20
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
200
heard him, suspect him of any reservation, or of using
equivocal language? Would they not suppose, that
when he told them he did not know or could not do a
thing, his words were to be understood in their ordina-
ry sense ? If they were used in any uncommon sense,
which he took no care to point out, how can he be de¬
fended from the charge of having made a deceitful use
of language 1
If words have any fixed meaning, our Saviour expressly
disclaims the possession of any attributes strictly and
properly divine : as omnipotence— I can of my own self
do nothing: supreme, infinite goodness— Why callest
thou me good ? there is none good but one, that is God :
omniscience— Of that day and that hour knowetli no
man , neither the Son, but the Father. This is plain lan¬
guage ; there is no mystery or obscurity in it. The terms,
I, me, self, as every one knows, always denote an in¬
dividual or person, and they include the whole of that
person ; they are not appropriated to any part or member
of such person ; they comprehend all which goes to con¬
stitute him what he is, viewed as an individual or whole.
In this sense our Saviour must have used them, or he
must have been guilty of manifest prevarication. To
say that by self he meant only the inferior part of his na¬
ture, and intended to assert only, that this part was not
truly divine, or did not possess, inherently and of itself,
infinite power and knowledge, is to make him express
himself, as no honest man, not bereft of his sober senses,
ever did or ever would.
Again, we are accustomed to look to Jesus as affording
an example of deep, confiding, and submissive piety,
manifested in all his words and actions, and especially by
201
IN JESUS CHRIST.
21
frequent and earnest prayer; and vve object to the doc¬
trine of his supreme divinity, that it destroys the force of
this example. Indeed, upon the supposition that he was
truly God, we are unable to comprehend what is meant
by those expressions of dependence and trust, which con¬
stantly fell from his lips. Are we to understand by them,
that, in his human, he felt dependent on his divine na¬
ture ? that one part of himself leaned for support on ano¬
ther part of himself? Had this been his meaning, he
would certainly have chosen language better fitted to
convey it. Once more : what construction are we to put
on his prayers ? To whom were they directed ? Will
you say, that in his human nature, he prayed to his di¬
vine ? in one part of his person to another part of it ? Or,
as the second person of the trinity, did he pray to the
first person of the trinity? As the second of three
“ somewhats,” or three c< distinctions,” all equal, existing
in the same being, did he pray to the first of those “ dis¬
tinctions,” or 4< somewhats,” for both these terms are
employed by trinitarians ? If he was the infinite God
incarnate, his prayers must either have been addressed
to one of three persons or distinctions in one being, by
another of the persons or distinctions in the same be¬
ing ; so that the being who prays, and the being to whom
the prayer is addressed, are the same; or they must have
been addressed to the divine part of his person by the
human part of it; so that the person who prays, and the
person to whom the prayer is addressed, are the same.
One of these two suppositions the Trinitarian is compelled
to adopt; and we know not which of them is the more
absurd. Both of them render Christ’s devotions unintel¬
ligible, and deprive us of the legacy of his precious ex¬
ample.
22
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
202
Fuither, we think that the doctrine of two natures in
Jesus Christ, as influencing the laws of interpretation,
throws the utmost darkness and obscurity over the sacred
writings. We consider it a plain truth, that the Bible is
to be interpreted in precisely the same way with other
ancient writings. We are to ascertain the sense of it by
the same process that we employ to ascertain the sense
of any work, which we attempt to read. On any other
supposition it is perfectly uninteiligible; and the fact, that
it was unintelligible, would force us to conclude, at once,
that it had no claims to a divine character. If God con¬
descends, by messengers and prophets, to instruct men
on subjects connected with their most important interests,
we may be certain, that he will cause the information
which lie thinks fit to communicate, to be conveyed
through a medium capable of being understood ; that is,
the messengers he employs must use language in the or¬
dinary way; they must observe those established laws
and usages, from which no writer, who wishes to be un¬
derstood, on whatever subject he treats, ventures to de¬
part. We cannot suppose, that he would so far sport with
his creatures, as to present the instruction he professes
to impart, in a form which would render it useless, by
preventing it from being understood.—We complain of
the doctrine of the two natures, as explained by its friends,
that it leaves us in the utmost doubt about the sense of
revelation ; that it makes the New Testament a book
wholly unlike all others; that it renders it necessary for
us to judge of the meaning of it, therefore, as we judge
of that of no other book ancient or modern. The conse¬
quence is, we can never be certain, that we understand
the facts or observations recorded by the historians of our
*
203
IN JESUS CHRIST.
23
♦
Lord. The impressions which we receive concerning
the most important of them, may be entirely erroneous.
It is not pretended, that our Lord on any occasion inti¬
mated in which of his two capacities, the divine or human,
he spoke or acted. He nowhere observes, this I say as
man, or this I say as God. He has not thrown out the
least hint, by which we may be guided in determining
what is to be ascribed to one nature, and what to the
other. Nor is this deficiency supplied by the historians
of his life. They have left on record nothing by which
we may be assisted in deciding in which nature he at
any time spoke or acted. No caution is used by them to
prevent misconception. No care is taken to guard their
readers against taking the words of their Master in their
literal and obvious sense, when he disclaims the attributes
of the Infinite Father. This is strange, it is wholly un¬
accountable, on the supposition that they understood him
in the sense in which trinitarians would have us believe
they did. It is an omission we cannot explain, and one
which may be attended with fatal consequences, for it
exposes us to perpetual error in our attempts to find the
sense of our Lord’s words. A more than oracular obscu¬
rity hangs over the sacred pages ; they may mean any¬
thing, or everything, according to the prejudices and
fancy of the reader, and there is no end to the absurdities
they may be made to teach.
In fact, upon the principle of interpretation adopted
by trinitarians, the plainest assertions of our Saviour may
be invalidated, nor could he have denied that he pos¬
sessed supreme divinity, in language, the force of which
might not have been evaded. Let us suppose that in¬
stead of saying my Father is greater than I—I can of
24
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
204
myself do nothing—My doctrine is not mine but his that
sent me , he had asserted expressly, I am not the supreme
God—I am not the same being with the Father , ivho
commissioned and sent me; we have only to affirm, in
order to set aside the evidence of these latter assertions,
that they have reference only to his human nature—that
they are true of him as man only. The two classes of
assertions admit of a common construction; if the former
do not teach that the Son is inferior to the Father and
distinct from him, neither do the latter, nor is it in the
power of words to express it ; and had our Saviour been
commissioned to inculcate it, he must have sought in vain
for language, which the ingenuity of men might not have
distorted into a sense entirely foreign from that he in¬
tended to convey.
We do not, upon mature reflection, perceive in what
manner the above mentioned objection can be obviated,
without abandoning the doctrine of two natures. We
know it is said, that we must determine whether Christ’s
human or divine nature is referred to by what is affirmed
of it, according to the maxim of the schools, “ the subject
is known by its predicate Thus with regard to the
assertions, “ my Father is greater than I, 5 ’ “I can of my
own self do nothing,” “ of that day and hour knoweth no
man, no not the angels in heaven, neither the Son, but
the Father only,” and those in which Jesus is described
as praying to the Father, being exalted, and receiving
from him a name above every name, and others of a sim¬
ilar character, we are told that they refer to Christ not in
a personal capacity, but in one of his natures only, that
is, his human. But in what manner this strange infe-
rence is authorized by the maxim alluded to, we confess
205
IN JESUS CHRIST.
25
ourselves unable to discover. It appears to us to be
founded on a disregard of the plain and obvious force of
expressions in themselves quite simple and intelligible.
If language is capable of a definite sense, and we know
anything about the laws of reasoning, the legitimate infe¬
rence to be drawn from the above mentioned assertions
is, that Jesus is inferior to the Father, not as to a part, but
the whole, of his nature ; that is, he is so in an absolute
unqualified sense. There is nothing in what is affirmed
concerning him, which necessarily requires the subject
to be taken in a restrained sense ; nothing in the nature
of the expressions employed, which limits them to a part
of this subject. These expressions, in their most obvious
sense, are not repugnant to reason, nor, we think, to the
general train of facts and arguments found in the Scrip¬
tures, and do not therefore require to be restricted. To
restrain them by supposing, that they are appropriated
only to one part of Christ’s nature, that they are not true
when affirmed of him absolutely or generally, is really to
put on them a construction altogether unnecessary and
manifestly forced.—A doctrine, which is supported by a
mode of interpretation, which would convert the Bible
into an inexplicable book, and render all human language
dark and uncertain, we need not add, cannot be true.
Let us next advert to some of the supposed uses of the
doctrine. Its advocates consider it important, first, as
furnishing a solution of some difficulties arising from the
apparently discordant language used by the sacred writers
with reference to Christ, who sometimes, as they admit,
speak of him as a finite and derived being, and sometimes,
they contend, employ expressions, which imply the pos¬
session of a divine nature and divine attributes. The
most ready method of solving these difficulties, they tell
3
VOL. II.
20
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
200
us, is to suppose that he possessed not one nature, but
two, a derived and underived, a finite and infinite, a hu¬
man and a divine. This supposition, it is urged, makes
all plain ; it furnishes a key, by the help of which, the
treasures of hidden wisdom, locked up in the inspired
volume, may be laid open, so that all may be partakers.
To this statement it might be sufficient to reply, that
the hypothesis in question, as we have shown, is liable to
insuperable objections, especially that it supposes a princi¬
ple of interpretation, which mystifies language, and makes
the Bible utter uncertain or delusive sounds. But we are
prepared to meet the argument on different ground. We
maintain, that the difficulties alluded to are greatly ex¬
aggerated ; that the greater part, if not all of them, may
be fully removed by the application of those rules of criti¬
cism, which we think ourselves authorised to apply in the
explanation of all other writings ; and the hypothesis of
the two natures is not therefore needed for their solution.
i
Our views on the subject of its necessity, as affecting
apparent discrepancies in the language of the New Tes¬
tament, may be stated in few words. We consider the
fact, that Jesus Christ is a being distinct from the Fa¬
ther, and inferior to him, completely established, by the
general strain of the Bible. No fact or sentiment is
more plainly, explicitly, and forcibly taught and inculca¬
ted. Take the following among numerous other testi-
monies equally express, which might be quoted. “ This
is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true
God , and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.” John xvii. 3.
“ But to us there is but one God , the Father , of whom
are all things, and we in him ; and one Lord , Jesus
Christ, by whom are all things, and we by him.” 1 Cor.
viii. 6. “ There is one God , and one mediator between
207
IN JESUS CHRIST.
27
God and men , the man Christ Jesus.” I Tim. ii. 5. At
the same time we admit, that there are a few passages capa¬
ble of receiving a construction, which favors the trinita¬
rian supposition ; but they do not, we conceive, necessa¬
rily require this construction ; they admit of being under¬
stood differently, without appearing to be forced from
their natural sense. We think that without departing
from the established laws of criticism, we are able to
explain them in a manner consistent with the views
which we are led, from the general tenor of the language
of the New Testament, to form of the Saviour. We con¬
ceive, that nothing is there said of him, which may not
be said of a being inferior in his whole nature to God.
Language occurs there, which is sometimes figurative,
and sometimes partakes of the nature of rhetorical de¬
scription ; it is partly popular, and requires, therefore, to
be restiained and modified , and partly the language of
feeling and sentiment, which is necessarily somewhat
indefinite. It is not surprising, that some of this lan¬
guage should at first view occasion embarrassment, and
that some expressions are met with, which admit of being
understood in different senses. It would be strange if
they conveyed the same sentiment, or shades of senti¬
ment, to all minds. We are persuaded, however, that
they are susceptible of a construction, w r hich is in
unison with our view's of the person and rank of the
Saviour, and therefore think the hypothesis of two na¬
tures unnecessary.
It is always easy to gather, from the general cast of an
author’s writings, and the mode in which he ordinarily
expresses himself, if he is accustomed to think and write
with any tolerable accuracy, what are his leading views
on the subject of which he treats. These views will be
28 - DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES 208
brought forward distinctly ; they will, probably, be fre¬
quently adverted to, and be presented with great promi¬
nence. Passages, however, may occur in his writings,
the meaning of which is less clear, passages, perhaps,
which understood in their literal and obvious sense, and
without reference to the trains of reflection into which
they enter, may appear to militate with the views and
principles we are led by the general import of his language
to ascribe to him. Now what is the process, which com¬
mon courtesy, and the laws of sound criticism, authorize
and require us to pursue with regard to such passages?
How are we to regard them ? Are we to consider them
of chief importance in our attempts to ascertain our au¬
thor’s meaning ? Are we to select them as proof texts?
Are we to erect systems on them ? Are we to appeal to
them as the passages, which best express the real views
of the writer? Are we, by exalting the letter above the
spirit, to make them utter sentiments at war with those
breathed, perhaps, from every page of his productions ?
No. We do not proceed thus in the interpretation of any
human author. We do not expect to draw important
proofs and illustrations from the more obscure and mys¬
tical expressions a writer may sometimes employ. We
do not always remain satisfied with the meaning, which
first offers itself, on meeting with such expressions. If,
according to their most obvious construction, they appear
repugnant to common sense, and the prevailing tone of
the writings, in which they occur, we feel compelled to
suppose, that we have not found their true signification,
and we seek some other, which is in harmony with rea¬
son, and with the known opinions of the author.
On this principle we proceed in the interpretation of
the Bible. We conceive, that obscure and ambiguous
209
IN JESUS CHRIST.
29
terms and phrases, which seldom occur, must bend to its
prevailing language and spirit; the more difficult parts
must be explained by the more easy, figurative by plain,
the more abstruse by the more simple. From the man¬
ner in which our Saviour and his apostles usually express
themselves, when they speak without metaphor; from the
views and illustrations to which they most frequently re¬
cur; from observations and assertions often reiterated, we
must endeavor to ascertain what their real sentiments
were ; what the great and fundamental doctrines they
received and were anxious to inculcate. In interpreting
the more dark and mysterious expressions, which are oc¬
casionally met with in their discourses and writings, we
must adopt a meaning, which harmonizes with those doc¬
trines, though it may not always be such as the natural
force of the expressions employed would most readily
suggest. This is reasonable ; common sense and com-
mon justice, in fact, require it of us. Now the simple
and proper inferiority of the Son to the Father, we think,
is inculcated, and echoed, and reechoed, from Matthew
to the Revelations, and is not, therefore, to be set aside
by a few expressions, which, taken literally, and apart
from others, with which they stand connected, may ap¬
pear to suggest a different conclusion. Such expressions,
we feel under the necessity of supposing, are to be re¬
ceived with some modification and restriction. They are
few in number, and the evidence derived from them com¬
paratively of little weight at most. Allowing it its full
force, it is insufficient to overthrow or materially weaken
the immense mass of proofs, which are brought to estab¬
lish the fact, that Jesus partook of a finite and derived
nature and attributes, and of no other.
Further, the advocates for the two fold nature of Christ,
VOL. ii. 3 *
30
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
2W
allege that their views are attended with some advantages
as regards the atonement. A wide field of remark is
here opened, but we must confine ourselves to one or
two observations. To the popular doctrine of a satisfac¬
tion or substitute, we object, that it robs God of his
moral and paternal attributes ; that instead of calming
our apprehensions and relieving distrust, therefore, it
only serves to aggravate our fears, and wrap nature in
gloom. But waiving this and numerous other objections,
which might be urged, we shall simply point out one
fallacy, which wholly invalidates the argument for Christ’s
divinity from the supposed necessity of an exalted vic¬
tim, a fallacy which has been often enough exposed, but
is not yet abandoned. Sin, it is asserted, since it is com¬
mitted against an infinite Being, is an infinite evil, and
deserves infinite punishment ; and none but an infinite
being is therefore capable of making atonement for it.
This reasoning has in it so much palpable sophistry, that
we may well be surprised it should ever be employed, or
for a moment listened to. In the first place, nothing can
be more illogical than to suppose, that sin, because com¬
mitted against an infinite being, is an infinite offence.
No act of a finite being can have a character of infinity.
But throwing out of view this and similar considerations,
which might be added, it is untrue that an infinite atone-
ment has been made, even upon the hypothesis of trini-
tarians. Would they be understood to say, that the su¬
preme and infinite God, the great Author and Preserver
of nature, really suffered and died on the cross? that an
omnipotent Being was put to death by children of dust?
that the Creator perished by the hands of his creatures?
that the world was left three days, during which Jesus
lay in the grave, without a God, that the universe stood
2i 1
IN JESUS CHRIST.
31
without a Preserver? No. The bare supposition of
such an event, if it were possible, would, in the highest
degree, shock the feelings of every one. On the hy¬
pothesis then that Christ was God as well as man, he
suffered only in his human nature. No infinite nature
suffered. What then becomes of the infinite atonement ?
No such atonement has ever been made, even admitting
that Christ united in himself the divine and human na¬
tures. On this supposition, it was man only that endur¬
ed the cross; so that with regard to the doctrine of the
atonement, a belief of the deity of Jesus has not the
least advantage over a belief of his simple humanity.
One further difficulty with regard to the death of
Christ, suggests itself, upon the hypothesis assumed by
trinitarians. They are compelled to disown the conclu¬
sion, that the divine nature suffered ; yet the divine and
human natures, it is asserted, were indissolubly united
in the person of the sufferer ; and we are told expressly
by Dr Barrow, that “the union did not cease, even when
our Lord as man did undergo death”—that this union
“persisted” when that “between human soul and body
was dissolved.” Here certainly appears to be occasion
for some very nice distinctions—distinctions, we are
afraid, much too refined for common minds. To a man
of plain understanding it must appear somewhat paradox¬
ical to say, that one of two natures indissolubly united
in the same person, may with this person undergo death,
while the other does not partake of suffering. It would
seem that the union must be dissolved at death. But
this is inadmissible upon the hypothesis of trinitarians;
the union is indissoluble. We leave them to cret rid of
o
tire consequences.
Some other advantages are occasionally described as
32
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
212
following from the union of two natures in Christ, which
we do not deem of sufficient importance to be noticed.
If the objections stated in the foregoing pages, have
any force, the doctrine of two natures in Jesus Christ is
attended with difficulties vastly more embarrassing than
those it professes to remove. Admitting the latter to be
as great as they appear to the advocates of the doctrine,
they amount we conceive, to this, and to nothing more—
that apparently discordant expressions are occasionally
found in the scriptures, which this doctrine reduces into
harmony with each other—that the sacred writers, in
speaking of Christ, use language, which appears consistent
only on the supposition, that he possessed both a divine
and a human nature. To remove apparent discrepancies
an hypothesis is employed, which, according to the view we
have taken of it, is full of contradictions; an hypothesis,
which, as we have seen, is manifestly absurd and impos¬
sible; which violates the personal unity of Jesus; im¬
peaches his veracity; and destroys the force of his
example ; mars the simplicity, and darkens the sense of
the sacred writings, and which, after all, fails of its ob¬
ject, in the very point, where, if its friends are to be be¬
lieved, it is most wanted, that is, the satisfaction or
atonement. No hypothesis can be attended with greater
inconveniences than this. Whatever difficulties we es¬
cape, we fall into greater, by adopting it. But we have
stated that, in our view, no formidable difficulties arise
from the forms of language alluded to; and that all al¬
leged discrepancies disappear, when the expressions,
which are supposed to imply them, are understood in the
sense they manifestly bear. We see not the least neces¬
sity, then, for the supposition of two natures in Christ,
even were the difficulties attending it fewer than they are.
213
IN JESUS CHRIST.
33
The above mentioned objections are enough to stamp
on the doctrine under consideration the character of
error. We have, however, one further objection, and it
is our last. We have examined the doctrine in its seve¬
ral parts and bearings, and followed it out into some of
its obvious consequences, and have seen, that it carries
on the face of it evidence of having originated in human
invention. We should be surprised to find any support
for such a doctrine in the scriptures. We venerate
them too much to believe, that they can teach it; and we
state, as our only remaining objection, our full conviction
that it receives no support whatever from them. It is
not alleged by its friends, that it is anywhere expressly
stated in the sacred writings, in the form in which it is
received by them. It is admitted by their soundest divines,
that nothing is directly said of the union of the divine and
human natures in the person of Jesus Christ. It is en¬
tirely a matter of inference, that such a union exists. This
we consider very unfortunate for the hypothesis. It throws
no small degree of suspicion over it. It might have been
expected that a doctrine of so extraordinary a character, so
opposed to all the common apprehensions of the human
mind, and the ordinary belief of the Jews, to whom our Sa¬
viour’s instructions were originally addressed, so novel, and
mysterious, so calculated to astonish and repel honest, and
alarm, if you will, prejudiced minds, it might have been
expected that such a doctrine, had it formed part of reve¬
lation, would have been accompanied with the strongest
evidence. The most ample testimony of its truth would
have been given. It would have been stated in the most
plain and explicit manner; the necessary definitions and
illustrations would have been added, and objections met
and refuted. One would have supposed that it would be
34
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES
214
a topic to which our Lord would perpetually recur, and on
which he would fully and unequivocally explain himself,
expressing his views in language which would effectually
preclude all misconception and uncertainty. Reserve on
a subject confessedly so obscure and difficult would be
peculiarly misplaced, as it would necessarily produce
doubt, perplexity, and error. When we take into view
these considerations, and reflect, that not a single pas¬
sage occurs in the whole New Testament, which con¬
tains anything like an inculcation of the doctrine in
question, the omission appears very extraordinary. We
say more, it seems utterly incapable of being accounted
for. The doctrine, if true, is certainly an important
one, and of a nature, as we have said, which required
that it should be taught with the greatest distinctness.
c? cs
Why then this silence upon the subject, on the part of
our Saviour and his apostles? Why is it, that no direct
trace, no incidental notice of it, is found in any expres¬
sions, which dropped from their lips ? Why are we left
to gather it from ingenious comparisons and remote pro¬
cesses of reasoning ? Why compelled to search the
Scriptures in vain for terms adequate to express it, for it
is not pretended, that the phrases, twofold nature , God -
man , divine-human, and others found so convenient, in
modern times, or anything resembling them, are met
with in our Bibles? These are inquiries to which the
friends of the doctrine never have, and never can, fur¬
nish a satisfactory reply.
There is another consideration, which has great weight
with us. It may be fairly concluded, that those, who
were about the person of our Lord, or who were occa¬
sionally addressed by him, had no suspicion that he was
God, from the circumstance, that they give no evidence
215
IN JESUS CHRIST.
35
of having felt that astonishment, which the disclosure
of such a fact could not have failed to excite in their
breasts. Had they regarded him as the supreme God, is
if. possible, that upon first becoming acquainted with the
fact, they would have betrayed no surprise? That he
was in appearance a man is not doubted ; as such he was
presented to their senses. What then must have been
their astonishment, upon hearing that he, who stood be¬
fore them in the human form, was the Author of the
universe ! Yet nothing of this astonishment appears to
have been felt by them. It is indeed more than once
said, that those about him were astonished at his mighty
works ; and the inference they made was, that he was of
ox from God ;—the idea that he was God himself, seems
never to have occurred to their minds. No curiosity
was expressed, and no inquiries made, of such a kind as
might have been expected, had they entertained any sus¬
picion, that he was perfect God as well as perfect man.
The inference is, that they were ignorant of any such
union ; and this, we think, affords satisfactory evidence
that it did not exist. Had it existed, can we believe, for
an instant, that they would have received no intimation
whatever of it? Would they have been left in ignorance
of it to the last ? In his moments of confidential inter¬
course, would their Master have dropped no hint from
which they might gather it ? Would he have died
with this weighty and impoitant secret. locked up in
his own breast? Would he have persevered in his silence
after his resurrection ? Would he have finally left the
world to go to his Father, and yet have taken no care to
inform his attached and grateful followers of a fact
esteemed by its friends so precious? Such conduct
would be altogether inexplicable. The fair inference
36
DOCTRINE OF TWO NATURES, &.C.
216
is, that the doctrine was a production of later ages.
We lament to add, that by adopting it without any neces¬
sity, w r e assume an hypothesis, which unsupported, as it
appears, by the scriptures, and followed by consequences
the most appalling, seems to us to disgrace religion, and
dishonor the human understanding.
Nor let it be imagined, that anything is lost by aban¬
doning this doctrine. Jesus remains an object of our
sincerest, and, under God, our profoundest gratitude and
regard. We can have no doubt of his sufficiency for the
purpose which he was sent to accomplish ; our confidence
in him as a deliverer, who is able to save to the utmost,
is not diminished ; our hopes of pardon through him are
not impaired or shaken. God raised him up and em¬
ployed him to convey the benefits of his mercy to man¬
kind. On that mercy we rest, believing, that through
whatever medium our Father may have chosen to impart
it, that medium must be effectual, and that mercy shared
by us, unless by a fault of ourselves.
On the other hand, by discarding the doctrine of two
natures, as stated by trinitarians, we are freed from nu¬
merous embarrassments, into which an attempt to explain
and defend it unavoidably plunges its advocates. We
are exempted from the charge of believing a contradic¬
tion or impossibility; the language of the sacred writ¬
ings ceases to appear strange and mysterious, and all
painful uncertainty about its meaning vanishes; we
preserve the personal unity of the Saviour, and retain
the benefit of his noble example; no seeming shade is
thrown over his character, no suspicion of concealment
and dishonesty attaches to him ; he is presented to our
view robed in that heavenly purity, and truth, and ingen-
uousness, which make hirn venerable and lovely.
1st. Series.]
[No. 21.
A
DIALOGUE
ON SOME OF THE CAUSES OF
INFIDELITY.
BY THE AUTHOR OF
A DIALOGUE ON PROVIDENCE, FAITH AND PRAYER.
PRINTED FOR THE
American 3Enttartan Association.
BOSTON:
* BOWLES AND DEARBORN, 50 WASHINGTON STREET.
1828.
Price 4 Cents.
BOSTON.... STEREOTYPED
BY LYMAN THURSTON AND CO
A DIALOGUE
ON SOME OF THE CAUSES OF
INFIDELITY.
Mrs. Henderson sat alone at work one evening,
when Mr. Henderson entered the parlour, having been
taking a walk, as was his custom, to refresh himself after
the labours of the day.
4 I have been talking with George again,’ said he, as
he seated himself on the sofa, 4 and I am altogether out
of patience with him.’ Mr. Henderson looked disturb¬
ed; and his wife’s countenance immediately manifested
sympathetic emotions.
4 What has the poor boy been doing now?’ she inquir¬
ed in a tone of anxiety.
4 1 do not feel as if he were entitled to pity,’ said Mr.
Henderson. 4 He is wilful and perverse, and I am more
angry than grieved with him.’
4 Whatever be his fault, my dear,’ replied Mrs. Hen¬
derson mildly, 4 young as he is, I think he is to be pitied;
and the more wilful he is, the more I grieve for him, be¬
cause i know he is only treasuring up future anguish for
himself. W hat has he been doing ? ’
4 1 hope you will not be troubled about it! ’ said Mr.
Henderson. 4 1 shall be sorry that I said any thing to
you concerning the matter,’
4
A DIALOGUE ON
220
‘ Dearest husband/ replied Mrs. Henderson, in a tone
of affectionate expostulation,‘ how can 1 fail to be dis¬
tressed, when the two beings I love best in the world,
are at variance ? When my husband and my son have
angry feelings between them, how is it possible I should
not suffer with both ? 7
i But I should suppose/ said Mr. Henderson, c you
would know your husband well enough to feel assured,
that he also loves his son, as well as you do; and I
should think you would have sufficient confidence in his
judgment and affection, to believe he would not be angry
without cause.’
‘ I did not intend to express any doubts of the justness
of your disapprobation/ replied Mrs. Henderson in a
subdued tone; ‘ if I have done so, the anxiety of my mind
must be my excuse for using inappropriate language.
I had but one simple feeling of sorrow, that George has
given you a new cause for complaint.’
Mr. Henderson made no reply to these explanatory
remarks of his wife; and she again inquired, what their
son had done to offend his father.
c He has not done any thing wrong, that I know of/
replied Mr. Henderson. c I do not mean to find fault
with his conduct; but you know he has got his head full
of deistical nonsense. And he is so wilful and head¬
strong, he thinks he knows more than any body ever
did before; there is no arguing him out of his infidel
notions. He will not listen to reason.’
Mrs. Henderson sighed gently, and remained some
time silent.
6 It is in vain/ at length she said/ to attempt to reason
against opinions that have been formed by feeling and
association, without any reason to support them. I
have long been watching the progress of George’s char-
CAUSES OP INFIDELITY.
5
221
acter with great anxiety. I have seen the tendency to
this state of mind from its commencement, and have
done what I could under existing circumstances to coun¬
teract it. But though we cannot induce him to yield to
argument, and though you cannot alarm him by repre¬
senting to him the dangers of his errors, yet I do indulge
a hope, that, after a while, our anxiety will be relieved by
a change in his sentiments, and a better state of mind.’
‘ I do not know what is to bring it about,’ said Mr.
Henderson.
‘ Perhaps we may be able,’ replied his wife, ‘by gentle
and judicious means, to induce him to examine the foun¬
dation of his own opinions, if he will not listen to ours.
We must try to disengage his affections from the no¬
tions he has adopted; and after that, he will more easily
perceive where the truth lies.’
‘It appears a hopeless case to me,’ said Mr. Hender¬
son; ‘ this is the second time I have gone deeply into the
subject with him, and pointed out his errors, his folly and
his wickedness, as plainly as possible; yet he maintains
his opinions as stoutly, and as pertinaciously, as if he
had all the reason and truth on his side.’
‘ It might be better not to contend with him, ’ said
Mrs. H.
‘ How is it possible to help it, while he is so unpardon-
ably perverse ? ’ asked Mr. H.
‘ There are some circumstances to palliate his er¬
rors,’ said Mrs. H., ‘ and with young people we can
hardly be too gentle, too forbearing. It is difficult to
keep in mind the ardour of their feelings, and the small¬
ness of their experience, and the consequent defects of
their judgment; and yet, unless we do make all these
allowances, we are in danger of confirming their false
views, instead of giving them clearer and juster ones.’
VOL. II. 1*
6
A DIALOGUE ON
222
4 I don’t know to what circumstances you allude,’ re¬
plied Mr. H., 4 for my part I think he has had uncommon
opportunities for acquiring correct notions on religious
subjects.’
4 He has had uncommon opportunities of imbibing pre¬
judices,’ replied Mrs. H.
4 He has heard and learned more of all the doctrinal
points and sectarian views, than I knew till long after
we were married,’ said Mr. Henderson. 4 And I was more
astonished than I can express, to find him entertaining
such opinions. I think Tom Paine will have to answer
for more mischief than can easily be computed.’
4 There are other causes beside deistical writers,’
said Mrs. H., 4 that have served to lead George’s mind
astray, and such as have, in my opinion, made more infi¬
dels than all the open attacks upon Christianity, that
have ever been made by professed deists.’
4 To what causes do you allude? ’ asked Mr. Hender¬
son ; 4 and how was George affected by them ? ’
4 1 allude to the circumstances in which he was pla¬
ced when he first left home to receive an academical
education,’ replied Mrs. Henderson.
4 1 do not recollect any thing peculiar in his situation
at that time,’ said Mr. Henderson.
4 Do you not remember, my dear husband,’ said Mrs.
Henderson, 4 that when you resolved to send George to
****, I objected to it? ’
4 Very well,’ replied Mr. Henderson.
4 Do you not recollect,’ continued his wife, 4 that I
said, you were going to place your son under the influ¬
ence of people, whom we both believed had embraced
many pernicious errors in their religious creed, and that
I was afraid his young and ductile mind would be drawn
223
CAUSES OF INFIDELITY.
7
into a state of unnatural and injurious excitement, and
that lasting evils would follow from it.’
c l remember you were alarmed,’ replied Mr. H.;
* I supposed you were afraid of the boy’s becoming pre¬
maturely religious; and I recollect I told you, there was
no danger of his having too much religion: I judged so
from the proneness of youth to disregard the subject. I
was more afraid he would not have any. I was not then
so well acquainted with the false and erroneous doctrines
of Calvin, as I am now, and thought a little Calvinism
Would not hurt him, if he did get it.’
( Error and falsehood are hurtful in every degree,’
replied Mrs. Henderson; c l felt the same fear that you
did, that George would not retain the religious feelings
we had endeavoured to implant; and it was precisely for
that reason, that I objected to his going to ****.’
i But,’ inquired Mr. Henderson, ‘ how could his going
there,—where the danger was, as you apprehended, that
he would be made to believe in Calvinistic tenets—how
could that have any thing to do with his now being a
deist.’
c I will tell you, my dear,’ replied Mrs. Henderson,
c how it operated to produce that effect; and, for fear of
it, I did not wish you to send him there. I have seen
this exemplified in many instances, and therefore I ap¬
prehended it in George. ’
c I really cannot conceive how you can imagine his
being in had any thing in the world to do with
his present state of mind, ’ said Mr. Henderson, in a tone
of incredulity.
6 You know, my dear, ’ said his wife, c that it has been
a principle which has governed me, and which you have
approved, that when instructing our little children, reli¬
gion should be presented to them in the simplest and
8
A DIALOGUE OX
224
plainest manner. We strove to give them the deepest,
the highest, and the most expanded ideas of the charac¬
ter of God; and to dwell particularly on his infinite be¬
nevolence, as the quality best calculated to inspire confi¬
dence and devout affection in their young hearts. The
beauty of holiness, and every divine quality manifested
by Jesus Christ, were pointed out in a way to captivate
them, and fix their strongest feelings on what we deemed
the fundamental principles of revelation. But we avoid¬
ed initiating them into what are called the mysteries of
religion, thinking it wisest and best to keep the clouds and
darkness, which the human mind has thrown over this
beautiful and heavenly system, quite out of their view;
believing, that when their hearts were imbued with the
pure spirit of the gospel, and their understandings en¬
lightened by its wisdom at a mature period of life, they
would be able to grapple with the dogmas they might
learn, and resist the falsehood offered as divine truth. ’
Mrs. Henderson paused, and looked earnestly in her
husband's face.
6 Well, go on,’ said he.
c At an early age, you chose to send George to
continued Mrs. Henderson. i It was my duty to sub¬
mit; but I felt afraid he would not escape the influ¬
ence, which I believed would constantly be exerted to
produce a state of feeling considered most desirable. I
feared my previous endeavours to instruct him would
be frustrated: and it happened as I expected.’
c I recollect something of this;’ said Mr. Henderson.
c You were afraid his uncle and aunt, with whom he was
to live, would be so earnest to produce an effect upon
his mind, that, as he had always loved them, he could
not fail to become a Calvinist, On the contrary, I be¬
lieved that such a gay, lively boy, w’ould not be likely
225
CAUSES OF INFIDELITY.
9
to notice what they said; and that they would not be able
to fasten on his mind any of their wrong notions, even
if they tried, which I could not, at that time, be per¬
suaded they would think of attempting.’
‘ You mistake, my dear,’ interrupted Mrs. Henderson;
c I did not think they would make him a Calvinist. I
knew he was too young to form any opinion upon the
subject. What I feared was, that his feelings would
be deeply impressed, and his mind prejudiced by them
I feared he would imbibe a disgust to all religion, by
being harassed with the inexplicable doctrines they would
endeavour to fasten on his memory; the false notions
they would infuse of the divine character; and the un¬
natural restraints to which they would subject him.’
1 Well, I did not think much about the matter,’ said
Mr. Henderson; ‘ and I confess it appeared to me you
were too scrupulous; and, if I recollect rightfy, the etfect
on his mind w r as not exactly what you had anticipated,
nor what 1 had expected. When he was sick, and we
were sent for, he fancied himself converted, did he not?’
‘ He did: but that was neither the first nor the last
change w hich w as produced by the exertions of his uncle
and aunt, and the sect to which they belong.’
c I don’t remember much about it,’ said Mr. Hender¬
son; ‘ for I looked upon it all as a trifling business, neither
do I yet perceive how it has had any bearing on George’s
present view r s.’
‘Nothing should be deemed trifling that is calculated
to have a lasting effect upon the mind, whether that
effect be good or bad,’ said Mrs. Henderson.
6 True,’ replied her husband; i but according to your
ow r n account, the effect upon George’s mind was not
lasting; and therefore, it was not w T orth regarding.’
( The first effect, my dear,’ said Mrs, Henderson earn-
10
A DIALOGUE OX
226
estly, £ was not lasting, nor the second, nor perhaps
the third; but the whole was a chain, which naturally led
to the state of mind which now distresses us so much.
I pray this may not be lasting; but I have fears, though
not so great as yours. 1
‘ What were the several states of mind, which you
think have led to this ? 1 asked 3Ir. Henderson. £ I really
*
have not observed them. 1
i The first impression that he received, after being
placed in your brother's family, was excessive ennui and
disgust, in consequence of being debarred so many of
his accustomed amusements, and compelled to attend
so many, and such long religious exercises, which, as
he could not understand them, were naturally very te¬
dious. This state of feeling lasted some time, and w’as
attributed to home-sickness; but I was convinced it had
not that origin.’
c I remember,’ said Mr. H., £ that I thought from his
letters, he suffered from home-sickness; and I believ¬
ed it best to take no notice of it, thinking it would soon
’wear off. 1
£ The second change of his feelings , 1 continued Mrs.
Henderson, in a tone that manifested regret and sorrow,
i was that of fear and horror, on account of the inevitable
and dreadful sufferings he was taught to believe he was
doomed to endure eternally, unless the irresistible grace
of God were vouchsafed to save him. This terror was
renewed as often as the least natural reaction of his
spirits had allayed it; and at length such a nervous ex¬
citement was produced as threw him into a slow fever.’
c Are you sure that was the cause of his sickness?’
inquired Mr. Henderson.
L Certainly,’ replied his wife; ‘ nor was it an unparallel¬
ed case. During the first attack of this malady, and even
227
CAUSES OF INFIDELITY.
11
before they were aware of his being diseased, his dis¬
ordered dreams were interpreted by his uncle and aunt
and their pious friends, to be interpositions of Provi¬
dence to save his soul from perdition, and so they per¬
suaded him. He started from his broken slumbers one
night, thinking he heard his name called; he thought he
opened his eyes, and saw his chamber full of sparkling
stars which were in continual motion;* he was greatly
alarmed and cried aloud. His uncle and aunt, who anxi¬
ously watched over him, in the hope of a happy change,
on hearing his terrified voice, went to his room, and listen¬
ed to the account. They told him, in so many words,
that he was hanging over hell, as by a single hair. They
seemed deeply affected, and wept and prayed over him.
They said it was an important moment, and would de¬
cide his fate. They thought divine grace was operating,
and they endeavoured to aid it by all the means they
could use to increase his emotions. God was striving
with his soul, they said, to save it; and he must wrestle
with the Lord, until he conquered, and compelled him to
grant the salvation of his soul. The poor child had but
a confused notion of what such a wrestling could be;
but he believed what they told him. He cried, and
groaned, and entreated to know what he could do, and
besought them to pray with him, and for him. They did
so, and when the violence of his feelings subsided for a
moment, they charged him to continue in prayer, and
strong supplication to God, that grace might be given him.
They told him, if he should hear his name called again,
it would be a sign of his having obtained pardon for his
sins; and then he might feel sure he was one of the elect
* A fact related, in all its parts, to the writer, by one who fully believed
that this was a supernatural course pursued by God, to convert her sis¬
ter from sin to righteousness.
12
A DIALOGUE ON
228
of God, and eternal glory and happiness would be his
portion; his nature would, in that instant, be changed
from a state wholly depraved, and incapable of any good,
to one pure and holy; and nothing could ever pluck him
out of the hands of his blessed Lord and Redeemer;
the wrath of God would be appeased, divine justice satis¬
fied, and eternal salvation be obtained.’
i Folly! ’ exclaimed Mr. Henderson. His wife went on.
c They stimulated him to continued exertion, by adding,
that should he not again hear himself called, he must be¬
lieve he was doomed to eternal wo, without even hope
of salvation. They continued to pray and exhort him,
till his mind was excited to frenzy; and at length, worn
out by these violent emotions, he sunk into a stupor,
and they left him.’
Unable to repress her emotions, Mrs. Henderson
paused for a few minutes; after which, with a serene,
though pensive expression of countenance, she contin¬
ued her narration.
* It was not long before he was again aroused by a
similar affection of the nervous system, a sickly dream,
which was very natural in his situation, which indeed is
very common in such a state of the body, and should,
therefore, be treated altogether as a symptom of disease.
I have very often experienced similar impressions, and
so have others, without imagining it in any way connect¬
ed with religion, or observing any mental effect after¬
wards.’
c Certainly,’ said Mr. Henderson, c How could any
one think otherw ise ? ’
‘ Your brother and sister believed it was the voice of
God, and so they told George, and that he might now
pour out his heart in hallelujahs and praises to his Maker
for his unmerited goodness in saving a lost soul, and
CAUSES OF INFIDELITY.
13
OOq
granting such an abundant entrance into his heavenly
kingdom. George gladly laid hold of these bright pros¬
pects; and the sudden relief, from excessive fear to hope
and joy, caused such a reaction of the spirits, that it pro¬
duced a highly active stage of fever; and he became as
raving with delight as he had previously been with horror.
By this time, it was discovered by those around him, that
he was really diseased, and burning with fever. They
became alarmed, and sent for the village physician, who
pronounced him dangerously ill. The poor boy wa3
several days on the borders of the grave. W hen he
became convalescent, I wished to take him home, to
recover his strength, and the proper tone of mind; but
circumstances prevented.’
‘ What circumstances?’ asked Mr. H. ‘I cannot con¬
ceive how 1 could consent to leave him there after that.’
* These things appeared less important to you then,’
replied Mrs. Henderson,‘ than they do now. You felt,
and treated the subject of religion, with much greater in¬
difference, and made little discrimination as to the truth or
falsehood of the different doctrines professed. You look¬
ed upon many of the notions of your brother and sister
as so wholly absurd and irrational, that you could not
imagine them to be seriously believed; and therefore
thought, as George’s health was restored, he could be in
no danger of being affected by them. You conceived his
sickness to be the cause, and not the effect of the state
of mind he had been in; and the whole matter made little
impression on your mind.’
c It seems very strange to me now that it should have
been so,’ send Mr. Henderson in a tone of sadness: ‘but
I must have regarded his health as much as you did;
why did I not consent to his return, on that account ? ’
‘ How can you forget so entirely your reasoning on
VOL. II. 2
14
A DIALOGUE ON
230
the subject?’ asked Mrs. Henderson. 6 Do you not re¬
member, that you laughed at me, and apparently with
reason, for wishing to carry the child from the pure air of
the country, to the hot and sickly atmosphere of the town?
Beside, George had been making rapid progress in his
studies; and you thought it would have a bad effect to
change his school and his routine of pursuits. In short,
you had not time to think much about it.’
* What was the effect on George?’ asked Mr. Hen¬
derson. i I do not recollect attending to the subject af¬
ter our return.’
* The effect was such as might naturally be expected,*
replied Mrs. H. c When his strength and natural vivac¬
ity were restored, and his mind had recovered its ra¬
tional and elastic action, he was led to reflect on what
had taken place, and review the changes he had passed
through. An unconquerable aversion to the subject of
religion took possession of his feelings. Its associa¬
tion with his sufferings was strong, and the recollection
of every scene he had experienced, extremely painful
and disgusting to him. The views of the divine char¬
acter daily presented to him by his uncle and aunt, and
also by his teachers, who neglected no opportunity to
instil their peculiar sentiments, were so opposed to those
his own reflections suggested when contemplating the
beauty and majesty of nature, that they became more
and more abhorrent to him. Sometimes, as he has since
told me, when his mind had been disturbed and bewil¬
dered by the sophistry he had listened to, he would go
into a corner, and secretly express the aversion he felt
for a being, so powerful and so malignant as he conceiv¬
ed God to be. Then, when he plunged into the w~oods,
and cooled his heated head in the pure brook, and sooth¬
ed his excited feelings in the sweet and solemn tranquil-
231
CAUSES OF INFIDELITY.
15
lity of rural scenes, his heart expanded with gratitude
and love to the God, who spoke to his soul in the pure
language of nature, and declared himself to be as benev¬
olent as he is wise and powerful. Such was the effect
of the course pursued with him, that he became impatient
to cast off the whole of revealed religion.’
* No wonder,’ said Mr. Henderson. 6 The effect was
7
perfectly natural, as you observed.’
6 The same means were again and again employed,’
continued Mrs. H., c which had at first been so effectual,
. in the hope of renewing his excitement, but they were
tried in vain: and considering him a confirmed repro¬
bate, after all the flatteries and attentions they had
lavished on him, his friends at **** began to treat him
with scorn and harshness. His uncle turned him out of
his house; and did not even pretend that George had
offended in any other way, than in not being willing to
unite with them in their high religious tone of feeling.’
c Don’t tell me any thing more of their conduct,’ said
Mr. H.
‘ I suspected something was going wrong,’ said Mrs.
Henderson, ‘ and saw somewhat of the changes in his
feelings, though he carefully avoided writing openly upon
them. I feared his mind had been warped from its ear¬
ly pure and rational religion; and that, having been car¬
ried to one extreme of error by the powers of false reas¬
oning, strong excitement of fear and hope, and affec¬
tionate treatment from his friends, while they believed
him under their influence, it would, by natural reaction
and a contrary course of treatment, go as much out of the
right line on the opposite side: but I believed time must
be allowed to wear off the effects of his late impressions,
before any sentiment of delight could be again associ-
16
A DIALOGUE ON
232
ated with serious and holy subjects. Since his return
from ****, I have constantly watched for opportunities
to restore his early love of God and pleasure in religion;
but before his feelings had time to recover from the shock
they had received, his mind became more mature, and
he resolved to inform himself of the truth or falsehood
of revelation and its doctrines, by a course of appropriate
reading, and to receive nothing unexamined.’
1 He was judicious in making those resolutions, I
think,’ said Mr. H.
‘ He was,’ replied Mrs. Henderson: c but not in the
manner he carried them into operation; though he adopt¬
ed the method usual with young people in like circum¬
stances.’
‘ How was it ? ’ asked her husband.
c He decided, to begin with studying all that had been
urged against revelation; intending afterwards to exam¬
ine the evidences in its favour. But, like too many others
whose feelings are enlisted on the side of scepticism,
De naturally rested where they led him, and so, after a
hasty and superficial reading of the scriptures, he felt
satisfied that he had done all that he need, to obtain
both sides of the question, and thus thinks himself con¬
firmed in deism.’
c Your account,’ said Mr. Henderson, c is, to be sure,
a much more rational one than I thought it possible to
give of his present views; and it seems strange to me,
that I should have known so little about it.’
‘ You knew it at the time, my dear,’ replied his wife; ‘at
least I related, and expressed my ideas of the whole trans¬
action: but you would not believe that any effect could be
lasting on the mind of such a boy; and thought it would
all pass away with his disease. Indeed, he was at the
233
CAUSES OF INFIDELITY.
17
time too sick, to allow us to say or think much about it;
and since then, though I have thought much, I have said
very little.’
‘ I wonder how I could be so inattentive and forgetful
of these things: nor do I understand how you learned all
the particulars you have related,’ said Mr. Henderson.
‘When we first went to the child,’ replied Mrs. H.,
i his mind was deeply exercised and full of the subject;
and he could think or talk of nothing else. IVhen alone
with him, I strove in vain to soothe his nerves, and pre¬
vent those violent paroxysms which he had been taught
to believe were highly beneficial. I avoided all in¬
quiries, and endeavoured to introduce a different train
of thought: but it was difficult to do this; especially as
your brother and sister, were gratified by the success of
their efforts, and were full of the subject of his conver¬
sion, both in his chamber, and when we were not with
the child. Thus by interrupted details and insulated re¬
marks from all parties, from the irrepressible desire each
had to relate the progress and completion of the change,
as it was called, I at length gathered all I have told you;
notwithstanding I discouraged, as much as possible, all
communication on the subject; wishing to give a new
and different tone to his feelings, and believing it best
for him to forget the past scenes, as soon as possible.’
‘ I certainly,’ said Mr. Henderson, ‘ never heard the
circumstances so related before; if I had, I should not
have treated my brother and his wife as I did at the
time, and have done since.’
‘It was the fear of this,’ said Mrs. Henderson, ‘that
prevented me from dwelling on the subject, and stating,
as particularly as I have now done, the course of con¬
duct they pursued with George. M hen I found you
VOL; II. 2 #
A DIALOGUE OX
18
234
decided to have him remain there, I considered it best
to say no more about the affair.’
c I think you were wrong there,’ said Mr. Henderson*,
c for if I had made a plain statement of the effects of their
conduct upon the child, it might have opened their eyes
to the folly as well as the wickedness of their treatment;
at least, it would have checked them in any further
attempts of the kind.’
c Perhaps I was,’ replied Mrs. Henderson; ( but it would
not, I thought, have any good effect. Your brother and
his wife are both sincere in the opinions they profess;
their minds are confirmed in the system they have em¬
braced; and their hearts are so wedded to it, that to ad¬
mit a doubt of its truth, or to allow the possibility of their
being in error, appears to them a heinous sin, for which
they should humble themselves in deep contrition before
God. They are, in this manner, enclosed and hedged
in by their prejudices, as effectually, as if they possessed
no rational minds. Any attempt on our part to give them
different views, would have no other effect than to cause
unkir.d thoughts of us: and, at that time, it would have
given them a conviction, that we were as ungrateful for
their affectionate treatment of our son as blind to the
truths of religion. Unchristian feelings would have been
excited between us, and our social intercourse would
have been interrupted, if not for ever broken off’
c I don’t know but you are right,’ replied Mr. Hender¬
son; ‘ and, after all, their conduct may not be all that has
caused George’s infidel notions.’
‘ Not their conduct alone,’ said Mrs. Henderson;
‘ others joined in the labour, to aid the good work as it
was called. One evening, George went by invitation to
visit one of the instructers. When there, the gentleman
told him, he had invited him, in order that he might get
235
CAUSES or INFIDELITY.
19
religion; and he did not intend to part with him, until he
had experienced a change. So he exhorted, and argued,
and read the denunciations of the scriptures on the im¬
penitent, telling the child, he was the very individual
pointed at; he added prayers to threatenings, till, at
length, driven to desperation, George declared himself
converted, and was allowed to depart. This deception,
on the part of George, weighed heavily on his conscience
for a very long time, though I am sorry to say, relief
did not finally spring from penitence, but from indiffer¬
ence.’
c More’s the pity,’ said Mr. Henderson.
c George is yet young,’ continued his wife, c and his
mind is a candid and penetrating one; it is deeply
excited, and full of action. His early impressions and
instructions were rational, and I trust he will finally set¬
tle down in just views.’
c God grant it may be so,’ said Mr. Henderson. c But
I confess I am full of fears.’
c If it were not for my religious trust, I should be full
of fears also,’ said Mrs. Henderson. c But I have so
earnestly and constantly sought divine aid in training
my children, and have made it so much the duty of my
life to give them good instruction, that I fully believe
our heavenly Father will grant my prayers; and in his
own time, and by his own means, produce the state of
mind we desire to see in our son. We must, on our
part, let patience have its perfect work; for this trial is
doubtless for the improvement of our hearts; and we
should view it in that light, and manifest a true Chris¬
tian spirit in our conduct to George.’
‘ 1 ou possess at all times more faith, and patience too,
than I,’ said Mr. Henderson. ‘ But I approve, and re-
20
A DIALOGUE OX
236
spect, and shall try to emulate your truly evangelical
temper, my dear wife.’
‘ Let us then resolve,’ said Mrs. Henderson, c to guard
ourselves against the least appearance of unkindness, in
our treatment of the boy. He must be drawn by love
and gentleness, and his heart be warmed and opened by
generous dealing, and a conviction, that affection dictates
our conduct to him. This will give us the fairest chance
of overcoming his prejudices, and convincing his un¬
derstanding.’
O
‘ That is the part of wisdom,’ said Mr. Henderson.
c But you know it is proverbially easier to preach, than
to practice. I am aware of the impetuosity of my
feelings. I rarely engage in an interesting discussion,
without being excited, and then, to be sure, there is
an end of profit or pleasure. I ought not to talk with
George on this subject; and I will not, if I can hold to
my resolution.’
c I think you are right,’ replied Mrs. Henderson. 6 On
subjects of deep interest, few people can converse calm¬
ly and dispassionately; and yet, without such composure,
and perfect gentleness of tone and expression, and the ut¬
most candour and impartiality, I am convinced little good
is effected by discussion. When unpleasant feelings
are excited, the mind will often be unable to perceive the
truth of a proposition, be it ever so clear.’
‘ It may be so,’ said Mr. Henderson; C I have never
attended much to these things.’
‘ You have lived in the world of business, my dear,’
said his wife; ( wdiile I, secluded, and moving only in the
little circle of my domestic duties, have lived in an in¬
ternal world of thought, observing and reflecting on the
operations of my own mind, and those of the few indi-
237
CAUSES OF INFIDELITY.
21
viduals, with whom I have daily or occasionally asso¬
ciated. Hence the difference in the character of our
minds, which originally, I believe, were constituted very
much alike.’
The entrance of company now put an end to the
conversation. But it was a subject of deep meditation,
and humble petition, that they might be guided by the
spirit of wisdom and divine love, in all their endeavours
to influence the mind of their beloved son.
Beside the causes which Mrs. Henderson had enume¬
rated to account for their son’s deistical opinions, there
were others in operation, of which both his parents were
ignorant. Or rather, the same causes were operating
under different circumstances, for it was still the doctrines
called orthodox, which were increasing and confirming
George’s erroneous opinions. Edward Burrel, a fellow
apprentice, and an intimate friend of George Hender¬
son’s, had a share in the unhappy influence exerted over
his mind. This young man had imbibed some doubts on
religious subjects, from various sources; but his notions
were crude, and his knowledge of the particulars in dis¬
pute trifling, until a young lady, a cousin of his, for whom
he had entertained a youthful passion, became deeply
affected by a Calvinistic awakening, produced by the la¬
bours of an itinerant preacher in a place where she had
been visiting. After her conversion, as she termed the
state of mind she was in, whenever Edward Burrel visit¬
ed her, she introduced the subject of religion, and tried
to create in his mind feelings similar to those she had ex¬
perienced from the new kind of preaching she had heard.
It happened, unfortunately, either that her cousin re¬
quired clearer and stronger arguments to convince
him, than had been effectual with her; or that those she
A DIALOGUE ON
238
adduced, if they originally possessed power, were depri¬
ved of it in the process of passing through her mind.
Edward Burrel constantly showed himself the better dis¬
putant. Yet, though never vanquished, he failed on his
part of convincing his fair cousin of her antiquated and
superstitious errors, as he called her opinions. This be¬
ing the case, he resolved to arm himself more thoroughly
for the combat; and with that view, read all the deistical
and infidel works he could obtain. Thus strengthened
in his belief, that no divine revelation had been made to
mankind, and confirmed in the opinion, that all things
owe their origin to chance, and that annihilation ensues
on the dissolution of the body; he renewed the con¬
troversy, and had greatly the advantage over his loqua¬
cious antagonist.
It sometimes happened when visiting his cousin, that
he met a clergyman, who, having learned the change in
the lady’s sentiments, and seen her at his church, val¬
ued such an acquisition too highly to risk losing it by
neglect. He therefore called upon her, as frequently
as he could ascertain that her father was absent; for
he was aware that his visits would not be approved by
him, and that the rules of etiquette did not justify his
visiting, uninvited, at his house. Whenever he had
opportunity, he did not fail to use it, to confirm her
faith in the views which she had embraced, and to give
her more and deeper prejudices against those who differ¬
ed from her in opinion. He reminded her that Jesus
Christ had declared that he came to a set a man at vari¬
ance with his own family, and the daughter against her
mother,” and that u a man’s foes should be those of his
own household; ” and this he assured her would always
be the case, when any member of a family was awakened
to the truth as it is in Jesus, and became converted; and
239
CAUSES OF INFIDELITY.
23
should such prove to be her fate, she must rejoice to be
accounted worthy of suffering persecution for the sake
of her Saviour. He supplied her from time to time
with arguments to maintain her warfare with her infidel
cousin: and occasionally, when these two champions met,
they had a skirmish on the debatable ground. The
young lady profited greatly by these conversations, and
was thereby enabled to hold on the controversy, beyond
all Edward Burrel’s expectations. He often invited his
friend George Henderson to visit his cousin with him;
and was not a little proud to have such a witness to the
victories, which he obtained in their polemical discus¬
sions. His opponent, as usual, became more dogmati¬
cal and pertinacious, the oftener she was convicted of an
absurdity, and rendered unable to extricate herself. And
she might at length have been discouraged, and disgus¬
ted with the unequal contest, had it not been that she
sometimes wandered from the defence of the creeds, doc¬
trines, and speculations of men, and stood on scriptural
ground; and then the fundamental truths of the Christian
religion supplied her, from time to time, with unan¬
swerable arguments. The strength these truths afford¬
ed her, preserved her confidence in the whole system
which she advocated; and left her without a doubt as to
the soundness of all her opinions.
It was, on the other hand, the circumstance of her at¬
tempting to defend the palpable absurdities of the tenets
she had embraced, that served to confirm Edward in the
belief, that her whole system was without foundation.
Thus each assisted to chain the other’s mind in false
notions.
George Henderson had been furnished, in his early
education by his mother, with such sound arguments to
24
A DIALOGUE OX
240
prove the existence of Deity, and that infinite wisdom
and goodness are the attributes of God, that Edward
BurrePs atheistical opinions could make no impression
on his mind. He had been led from his earliest recol¬
lections to perceive and adore the wonderful manifes¬
tations of God’s love to man, his wisdom and power, in
the glorious works of creation and providence; and no¬
thing could efface the deep impression. But the young
lady advocated doctrines so evidently absurd, and con¬
stantly proved to be so by Edward Burrel, that the
result of these conversations, in respect to him, was in
unison with his prejudices, and tended to strengthen his
disbelief of revelation. His reading confirmed him in
these views. i Edward Burrel, 5 he thought , 6 does not
believe enough; there is incontestable proof of a First
Great Cause, possessing all possible perfections. Louisa
Seymour believes too much; it is absolutely impossible
that an infinite can be contained in a finite being; that
God, immeasurable, unbounded, eternal, omnipresent, as
well as omnipotent and omniscient, could be born in the
circumscribed form of man, and be confined to pass a
temporal life on earth, and then die. God die! It is a
contradiction, not only in language, but in ideas;—it
may as rationally be said, that a part is greater than a
whole; that time comprehends eternity; that truth is
contained in falsehood; and goodness in sin. God re¬
mains for ever in his own infinite existence; diffusing, by
established laws, his overflowing bounty on his depend¬
ant creatures, whom he will ever protect, overrule, and
govern, according to his infinite wisdom. 5
1st Series.
No. 22.
EXCUSES
FOR THE
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION
CONSIDERED.
PRINTED TOR THE
American sanitarian Association,
BOSTON,
BOWLES & DEARBORN, 50 WASHINGTON STREET.
1829.
Price 4 Cents,
BOSTON*
Press of Isaac R. Butts & Co.
EXCUSES CONSIDERED.
The subject of the Communion is one in which it has
been thought that Christians, especially the younger classes
of them, should feel a deeper interest. I would not
lay too great stress on the external ordinances of our reli¬
gion ; but certainly they should receive from us a proper
regard ; and this, it is to be feared, too many are slow to
pay them. I am sometimes apprehensive, that the ten¬
dency of the age is to place the positive institutions of
religion too low in the scale of Christian duty. We talk
much, and justly, of the supremacy of the moral virtues ;
but I am apt to think that, in our admiration and praise
of these, we are in danger of undervaluing too much those
inferior, indeed, but important duties, which consist in
certain ordinances, kindly appointed by the Saviour as
the means of spiritual attainments. Very true it is, there
is no merit in simply coming to the Christian communion.
Nor is there any merit in the mere performance of any
religious service. But this does not prove that no good
springs from it, nor that, by wilful neglect of it, we do
not forfeit the approbation of our Lord. “ Ye are my
friends,” said he, “ if ye do whatsoever I command you.’ 1
Now what command of his is more positive and unequiv¬
ocal than—“ Do this in remembrance of me.” How is it.
j '
that any can excuse themselves in disobeying this injunc-
4
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
244
tion ? The authority of him who imposed it will not,
certainly, be called in question. All believe, I presume,
that what Christ commanded, was virtually the com¬
mand of God. Nothing, therefore, which he has or¬
dained for his followers, can be deemed optional or use¬
less. This, doubtless, all are ready to admit. How, then,
do Christians excuse themselves in neglecting the com¬
munion service ? The answers that have been given
to this inquiry are various. Upon some of them I am
now to remark ; and in doing it, must claim your indul¬
gence for that plainness of speech, which, in the discus¬
sion of such topics, is both necessary and useful, and for
that directness of address, by which I hope to secure the
personal interest of my reader.
I begin with what may be considered a plausible ex¬
cuse with some—a sort of lurking skepticism. You refrain
from the communion because you are not certain it was in¬
tended by the Saviour to be perpetual in the church. Now
in reply to this let me say first—suppose the case stronger
than yours. Suppose you not only dovbted , but knew
that the command in question was not designed to extend
to our times as obligatory upon Christians. Would
it, therefore, be best to abandon the communion table 1
Is it wise to refrain from everything for which we
have not a positive injunction ? There certainly can
be no harm arising from this service. We think it is
productive of much good. Why, then, abandon it ?
Because you think you were not commanded to attend
upon it 1 But you do not act upon this principle in other
concerns. You do many good things for which there is
in the scriptures no express direction. Take an instance.
You do not wait for a command to celebrate the anniver¬
saries of important political events. You go voluntarily,
245
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
5
and joyfully, to these festivals,—and why ? Because in¬
teresting recollections crowd on you there, and your pa¬
triotism is kindled into a brighter flame, and you are made
a better and a happier citizen. And can you tell me why
you should wait, at all the more, for a command to cele¬
brate the feast commemorative of the Saviour of the
world ? For myself, command or no command, I would
*
celebrate it—for it puts me in mind of my greatest bene¬
factor, my piety and my benevolence are inspirited with
new life, and I am made a better and happier Christian.
Your case, however, is by no means such as I have been
supposing. You do not pretend to know that Jesus did
not design the Lord’s supper to be obligatory on Christians
of the present time. You only say you have doubts about
it. Now, as you are certain no evil can come of the
service, and probably some good will result from it, does
not wisdom urge you to join the communion ? In this,
you cannot but perceive, is your greatest safety, even
on the ground of your doubts as to its positive obligation.
You may, some time, be convinced of its obligatory na¬
ture, and then the thought that you had neglected it will
give you pain.
But, may I not ask, in the next place, why it is that
you have any such doubts on the subject ? That Jesus
enjoined the observance of the communion on his first
disciples, you admit. What reason have you for suspect¬
ing that it was intended to be confined to them 1 Can
you cite a single passage from the New Testament which
intimates such a design 1 You cannot. If, then, the
scriptures place no limitation on the Saviour’s command,
why will you ? Is there anything in the nature of the
ordinance that should lead you to suppose it was to be
temporary in the church ? No. It is simple, significant,
VOL. II. 1*
6
NEGLECT OP THE COMMUNION.
246
applicable to Christians in every age and clime, and
useful to all who use it well. Consider, too, the reason
our Saviour gave at the time he appointed it. “ Drink ye
all ol it, fur this is my blood of the new testament, which
is shed for many ”—shed, certainly, not for his imme¬
diate disciples alone, but also for the multitudes that were
to succeed them. This reason, you perceive, addresses
itself to us with as much force as it did to the twelve.
What, again, was the design of the communion? Re¬
membrance of Christ. “ Do this in remembrance of me.”
And have we less occasion to remember our Saviour than
the first Christians had ? Have we less need to use the
means of calling what he said, and did, and suffered, to
our recollection ? Besides, did not our Saviour, after his
resurrection, say to his disciples, “ Go and teach all na¬
tions to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded
you ? ” But, had he not commanded them to com¬
memorate him in the communion ? Now, as he made
no exception as to this ordinance, in his last directions
to his disciples, must they not have felt themselves bound
to inculcate this, amongst other Christian duties, upon
their converts? I see not how it could have been other¬
wise. Was it otherwise in fact ? Let us advert to the
known opinions and practices of the apostles, respecting
the Lord’s supper. They could not, especially after Pen¬
tecost. have been ignorant of the real intention of their
Master concerning it. Read the Acts of the Apostles,
and you will find it often alluded to. Is there a word in
that history implying that it was to be temporary ? Not
one. On the contrary, it is spoken of as an ordinance
of the church, during the period, of which that book
professes to give an account; or at least, for the space
of nearly thirty years after our Saviour’s ascension.
247
NEGLF.CT OF THE COMMUNION.
7
Nor is this all. The question, it seems to me, is settled
by the testimony of Paul. He received, as he tells us,
his knowledge of Christianity, by special revelation from
Jesus Christ. And among the communications made to
him from this source, he mentions the account of the
Lord's supper. Accordingly, we find him enjoining the
proper observance of this rite upon the Corinthians, in his
epistle to them. Mark the date of this. It was more than
a quarter of a century after the institution of the ordi¬
nance. And here is the point to be dwelt upon. If Christ
v
did not intend the rite should continue in the church,
why did he, at so late a period, reveal it to Paul ? And
why did Paul, if he did not suppose it was to be a perma¬
nent ordinance, recommend it to the Corinthians, with
minute directions as to its proper observance, more than
twentyfive years after our Saviour’s death ; and that, too,
without giving a single hint from which anything could
be inferred, but, that it w r as to be a standing rite in the
church in succeeding generations ? It seems to me the
conclusion is irresistible.
If any further confirmation is desired, we have the tes¬
timony of Justin Martyr, who flourished about forty years
after the last of the apostles left the world, that is, about
one hundred and ten years after Christ. From him we
learn that the Lord’s supper still continued to be an or¬
dinance of the church. His words are these : “ On the
day that is called Sunday, there is an assembly of all who
live in the cities, or in the country; and the Acts of the
Apostles, and the writings of the Prophets are read, ac¬
cording as the time will permit. The president discourses,
instructing the people, and exhorting them to good actions.
Then we stand up to pray, and after prayer, bread and
wine, with water, are brought, and the president offers
8
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
248
prayers and thanksgiving as he is able, and the people
join in saying, amen. Then there is a distribution and a
partaking of the things for which thanks were given.”
Here, you see, the celebration of the Lord’s supper is
declared, by an unexceptionable witness, to be the regu¬
lar practice of all Christians in the age next succeeding
that of the apostles. Ecclesiastical history is full of proof
that, from Justin Martyr’s time to the present, the com¬
munion has been regarded as a permanent ordinance of
the Christian religion.
Thus I have glanced at some of the topics of argument
by which it is proved that the Lord’s supper was designed
for his disciples of all times. And now, with the
solicitude which it is natural for every follower of Jesus
to feel, and with the plainness which one Christian
brother may always use to another, I ask you, why
it is that, in our religious assemblies, comparatively
so few participate in the elements of that feast, which was
intended to commemorate their greatest benefactor ?
What further excuses have you to offer for the neglect of
the communion ? State them, and they shall have a can¬
did hearing.
V-'
Will you tell me that this service is fenced round with
creeds of man’s making, so that you cannot conscientiously
come to it ? In our churches no one can say that such
is the fact. We have no creed but the Bible. But are
there not promises to be made, you ask, perhaps, which
will be as shackles upon our minds in our future inquiries ?
That there are not such in some churches of a different
faith from ours, I do not take it upon myself to affirm.
But as to our own, I answer, there are no such promises
required. A man enjoys as much freedom of thought in
the church, as out of it. Every member is left to be
249
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
9
guided in al! things by the light of his own conscience,
just as much after having come to the communion as be¬
fore.
But shall we not, you may inquire, assume, in the sight
of God, some new obligations, by joining the church ?
Suppose I should say yes,—what then ? If they arc only
the obligations which the religion you acknowledge to be
divine, makes it your duty to assume, would you decline
them? Would you shrink from any responsibleness your
Maker designed you should sustain ? Would you escape
from the burden of a known duty? This were unmanly,
not to say unchristian. But I do not so answer the ques¬
tion. On the contrary, I say that the profession of a
religion you believe, implies, in the sight of God, no new
obligations. As believers in the divine authority of
Christianity, you are just as strongly bound to obey its
injunctions before you tell the world of your faith, and
join the church, as afterward. Neither the words of your
profession, nor the act of your communion, and, I may
add, not both together, can make any difference as to
the number of your obligations. It is true, it would be a
natural effect of these words and of this act to make you
feel more deeply the obligations you were under before.
And this is a reason why you should declare the one and
perform the other. For who should not wish to feel as
deeply as possible the obligations that are upon him, and
from a faithful discharge of which be cannot escape with
impunity ? But as to a man’s taking upon himself any
new obligations by joining a Christian church,-—it is a
. mere fiction. A creature of God, living under the full
light of Christian truth, assume new obligations ! It is
impossible. The obligations of every believer of the
gospel, are now as many, and as strong, as if he had
10
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
250
proclaimed his convictions to the universe, and had
commemorated the death of Christ in every church on
the globe.
But will not the eyes of the world be turned on us, if
we join the church, you may ask, and will not more be
expected of us by our fellow men ? I answer, suppose
this should be the case, and suppose, too, that it should
be an evil. It would be, at the most, but incidental to
the performance of a duty. And is duty to be neglecied
for the evil incident to it ? But this is not all that may
be said to the question. Is it an evil to be so situated as
to have the eyes of the community upon us, and to have
much expected of us ? It seems to me to be an impoitant
advantage. It is an additional motive to exertion, and
such most of us need. Whose interest is it not to be as
virtuous as he can be ? And what is more iikelv to con-
duce to this end, than the consciousness that the eye of
the world is upon him, and that his fellow men expect
much hom him ? What you urge, therefore, as an excuse
for neglecting the communion, I should offer as an in¬
ducement to the observance of it.
But you fear, perhaps, that should you make a profes¬
sion of religion, you might dishonor it, by not living up
to its principles. And are you certain that you have not
made a profession of religion, at least virtually, already ?
It seems to me that you have, in effect, done so, every time
you have joined in public worship. If you concede this,
then are you not note in as great danger of dishonoring
your religion by not living up to its principles, as you
would be after coming to the communion? If you do
not concede this—if you say that you have, in no sense,
professed the religion you believe,—alleging for excuse
that you feared you might dishonor it by an unworthy
251
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
11
life,— then, allow me to ask, is it not dishonoring your re¬
ligion to make no profession of it at all ? Is it not disobey¬
ing a positive command of the author of it ? This excuse
strikes me as a strange one. What is it but founding an
apology for present disobedience on the fear of disobedi¬
ence in future ? You neglect a known duty today, from the
apprehension that you may neglect some imagined duty
tomorrow. Your fear, it seems to me, should operate in
a manner entirely different from this. It ought to bring
you to the ordinance immediately. For thus you would
not only be honoring your religion now; but you would
be doing something, at the same time, to secure yourself
against dishonoring it hereafter, since one act of obedi¬
ence performed renders another more easy and cer¬
tain. Besides, if you are sincere in your expression
of fear—if you are, in truth, so tremblingly alive to the
interests of religion, as to think of neglecting its ordi¬
nances, through dread of dishonoring it by your moral
delinquencies—then, what is to be said further, but that
the very sentiment, which the excuse betrays, is no small
indication of your qualifications for the communion. Few
persons, it may be presumed, whose solicitude is so awake
for the reputation of Christianity, can be unworthy of its
privileges, or likely to bring reproach upon its name by
an open profession of its truth, and an open participation
of its ordinances.
Yet others have disgraced their profession, you say.
And what is this to you, except as a source of grief, and
a caution against your own misuse of it ? That one man
abuses a good thing is no reason why others should ne¬
glect it. Much less is a known duty to be omitted by us,
because our neighbor has performed it badly. True,
there are those who have disgraced their profession. But
TO
i M
NEGLECT OF TIIE COMMUNION.
252
will you urge this as a reason for your making no profes¬
sion ? Then, you are willing to plead in justification of
your neglect in religious matters, what you will not plead
in respect to anything else. Have not others abused their
riches 1 But you do not, therefore, refuse to grow rich.
Have not others prostituted their knowledge to unhallowed
purposes 1 But you do not, therefore, choose to live in
ignorance. Have not others prayed without a spark of
true piety? But you do not on that account refrain from
prayer. And why will you refrain from the communion
because some, it may be, abuse it ? Why will you plead
in excuse for your neglect of this, what you think not of
urging in excuse for anything else ?
But you do not think yourselves good enough for the
communion. The humility, which this plea often indi¬
cates, I respect. It befits us, however, to be on our guard
lest our humility be an obstacle to our duty. You say
you are not good enough. Do you mean by this that you
have no regard to God and Christ—that you love sin bet¬
ter than virtue—that you have no wish to be obedient and
holy ? Then, indeed, I am of your opinion—you are not
good enough for the communion. And I should be of
your opinion, also, were you to affirm that you were not
good enough to live among men, or to breathe God’s
air. But you do not mean this. By far the larger
portion of those whom I address are, I doubt not, of
a very different character. You are believers in
Christianity, and it is your desire and aim to obey
its injunctions. If so, then you are good enough for
the communion. There is no valid reason for your
delaying to come to it. Let it be, that you are still im¬
perfect. Who is not so 1 The service was designed for
such. It was intended to be a means of improvement,
253
neglect of tiie communion.
13
which implies imperfection. What are the scriptural
qualifications for the service ? Perfection ? No. But
belief in Christ and sincere purposes of obedience. Have
you these, then delay not to come to the communion.
Yet so, you tell me, do not all your religious friends
counsel you. Do not ? Why ? What reason do they give
for advising you to postpone this compliance with the
will of Christ ? Is it that your opinions do not ac¬
cord with theirs ? The only question with you should
be, whether your opinions agree with the teachings of
Jesus and his apostles ? It is not to be expected that all
Christians should think alike on every subject. Yet that
they do not, is no reason why any should be kept from the
communion. Is it to be supposed our Saviour did not
know that a diversity of views prevailed among his twelve
disciples? Nevertheless, he invited them all to his table.
But your religious experiences have not been precisely
like those of your friends. And do they, on this account,
discourage your joining the church ? The only question
with you, again, should be, do you possess the spirit of
your Master ? It is no just occasion of alarm and hesita¬
tion to you that your feelings have not been the same with
others’. It is impossible, in the nature of things, for all
persons to have precisely the same experiences—for all are
not equally guilty; all have not the same change to under¬
go; ail are not possessed of the same natural tempera¬
ment ; all have not the same knowledge ; all are not placed
in the same circumstances ; nor have all the same means.
Now, in view of such diversities, who may presume to
pronounce another unworthy of the communion, for not
having gone through the full course of his own spiritual
exercises? You may be a Christian, and I may be a
VOL. II. 2
14
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
254
Christian, and our neighbor may be a Christian, and yet
our experiences may have been exceedingly diverse. In
a word, is it your desire and aim to conform your opin¬
ions, feelings, and conduct to the standard of the gospel ?
then, let not the scruples of your friends, as to your fitness
for the Lord’s Supper, prevent your coming to it.
But it is so holy a service you dare not engage in it. So
holy a service ! How am I to understand you ? Certainly
you will not, in this enlightened age, say that any peculiar
sanctity is transmitted to the elements of the communion,
by their consecration to sacred purposes. A holy service !
I grant that it is so, and I thank God for it. But in what
sense is it holy ? Only as its purpose is holy—that is, to
make us devout, virtuous, more like Jesus Christ. In
other words, it is holy just as all the other institutions of
religion are so—viz. for their holy ends. But you do not
refrain from these. Why should you from that ? There
cannot be a more holy service than prayer ; yet you en¬
gage in this, without those feelings of dread and supersti¬
tious awe with which you contemplate the communioni
There is no reason whatever for the difference. But sup¬
pose, for a moment, that it were more holy than the other
services of religion—what should follow ? Not, certainly,
that you should neglect it the more, but that you should
give to it the greater heed. Its superior sanctity consist¬
ing, according to the supposition, in the larger power of
its sanctifying influences, you ought to be proportionably
more solicitous to avail yourselves of its advantages.
Thus, you perceive, your plea is turned against you. That
the ordinance is a holy service is a very good reason why
you should observe it, but a very bad reason why you
should neglect it.
255
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
15
And so we might be induced to think, you confess,
were it not for some passages in the scriptures that deter
us. But what passages, let me ask ? 1 know of none
that ought to have this effect. Do you remind me of the
fate of him who was found at the wedding feast without a
proper garment ? But this was not intended to relate to
the Lord’s supper. Nevertheless, if you suppose it may
be so applied, what does it teach you? That you would
be safer in staying away from the communion than in
coming to it? Not at all. For they who are repre¬
sented in the parable as slighting the king’s invitation
and refusing to be present at the feast, were treated with
quite as much severity as the unworthy guest. Do you
refer me now to a passage in the first epistle to the Co¬
rinthians ? It is the only one to your purpose in the
sacred volume. We will consider it. Paul says, “ Who-
ever sha 1 eat this bread and drink this cup of the Lord,
unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the
Lord —and again, <f He that eateth and drinketli un¬
worthily, ( ateth and drin eth damnation to himself, not
discerning the Lord’s body.” The reference and import
of these words have been strangely misapprehended.
Correctly interpreted, they neither express nor imply any
thing that should keep sincere believers away from the
communion. They were designed to have reference to
extreme abuses in the Corinthian church—abuses which
it is next to impossible should occur now. It was no¬
thing less than gross intemperance that the apostle so
sharply rebuked. This it was which he meant by their
“ eating and drinking unworthily ; ” and as to the phrase,
“ not discerning the Lord’s body,” the import of it is—
making no proper difference between a commemorative
16
NEGLECT OP THE COMMUNION#
256
Christian ordinance and a licentious heathen feast. In
thus turning the simple and significant service of the
communion into a scene of intemperance and riot, they
were “guilty of the body and blood of the Lord”—
guilty, that is, of treating the memorials of him, or as we
might say, his memory, with gross disrespect. And
what, according to Paul, was the penalty annexed to this
abuse of the ordinance 1 “Damnation,” as it is ren-
dered in the common translation ; which, however,
Doddridge “thinks the most unhappy mistake in all our
version of the Bible.” And so perhaps it is. The ori¬
ginal word does not here mean what “ damnation ” com¬
monly signifies with us, any more than it does in James
iii. 1, where it is translated “condemnation.” But it
means temporal punishmnit , such as weakness, sickness,
and death, as is evident from the next verse. “ For this
cause many are weak and sickly among you.” And this,
as the apostle says, was by way of salutary chastise¬
ment, in order that, being reformed by it, they “ might
not be condemned with the world.” Such is the true
explanation of the passage in question. It was intended
to be local and particular in its application. It was a
severe rebuke of a profanation that has never occurred
among us, and probably never will. You see, therefore,
how little reason there is for any sincere believer in
Christianity of the present day to be prevented from
coming to the communion, as though it were a rite, which
it would be hazardous to approach. Even the Corinthi¬
ans themselves were not advised bv Paul to refrain from
m
it, but to engage in it with better views and dispositions.
Yet it is a service that requires befitting prepara¬
tion of mind, and this, you say, you have not leisure to
257
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
17
make. Just as well may the child say he has not leis-
ure for gratitude and love towards his parents. What
preparation do you think necessary for this service, which
is not equally so for the worship of the sanctuary, for your
dady devotions, nay, for every event and duty of your
lives ? True, preparation is requisite for a proper ob¬
servance of the ordinance in question. But it is only the
preparation which every one ought, and which every
good man aims, to carry with him into all his avocations.
He who is prepared to perform his social duties and to
transact his ordinary business in a Christian manner, is
also prepared to join the communion in a Christian man¬
ner. To say that you are not prepared for the Lord’s
supper, is as much as to say you are prepared for no
duty. Live as a Christian should live during the six days
of the week, and you will have all the preparation that is
required for the worthy participation of the Lord’s sup¬
per on the seventh. He who deserves the Christian
name is always prepared for the communion, whatever
be his social engagements, or the pressure of his busi-
ness.
Still you hesitate. The thought lurks among your
other thoughts, that joining in the communion implies,
and requires, something like an ascetic rigor of manners
and life. It seems to you, perhaps, that should you
come to this ordinance, you would feel yourselves obliged
to forego the pleasure of certain amusements and pur¬
suits, which you have been accustomed to value. And
so you would, I should hope, if your pursuits and amuse¬
ments are criminal. And if they are criminal, why do
you not now feel yourselves obliged to forego them?
Are not such pursuits and amusements forbidden by
VOL. ii. 2*
18
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
253
God ? and do not his commands reach you just as much
in your present situation, as they would, were you con-
nected with the church ? But you think your amuse¬
ments and pursuits innocent and useful. If it be so,
then what is there in the communion to prevent you
from continuing them ? There is nothing in the Lord’s
supper, nor in any part of Christianity, that forbids what
is innocent and useful, by whatever name it is called.
Either your occupations and pleasures are innocent, or
they are not. If they are innocent, pursue them, and let
them be no obstacle to your coming to the table of the
Saviour. If they are not innocent, then for God’s sake,
for your soul’s sake, give them up. Think not that they
are the less criminal, or the less fatal, because you are
not members of the church. In the eye of God, what¬
ever men may fancy, the faults of such as refrain from
tlie communion are fraught with as much guilt, as the
faults of those who engage in it.
But our associates will ridicule us if we go to the com-
munion, you say. And has it come to this? W II }ou
confess to me that the fear of a little ridicule shall keep
you from an acknowledged duty ? Shall the words of a
few companions, frail ana erring as you know them to
be, have more power over you than the words of Jesus
Christ ? Shall the dread of reproach from human lips
be stronger within you than the dread of God’s displea¬
sure ? Will you sacrifice your spiritual improvement
and satisfaction to the love of popularity, which, after all,
you may not gain, take what course you may? Will you
so degrade yourselves as to subject conscience to the
every varying whims of those around you ? I cannot
believe it. You are not so wanting in moral courage.
259
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
19
You would be ashamed of so miserable a cowar lice.
No. If you have the heart of a man within you, you
would rise above such taunts. Your associates will ridi¬
cule you, if you should go to the communion ! Then,
let me say farther, this very circumstance proves that
you have made a very poor choice of associates. They
are unworthy of your regard. Ridicule you for doing
your duty as a religious being—as a creature of God—
%
as an heir of immortality! You should blush, to have
any intimacy with such companions. You cannot with¬
draw from their fellowship too soon. It is a disgrace to
be connected with them, even if you have no desire to
join the church.
But are we not too young, you are ready to ask, for
the duty under consideration ? Too young? Whence
have you derived this thought? The scriptures are full
of exhortations to early religious culture. And as to the
Lord’s supper, that valuable means of this culture,
there are few historical facts better established than that
young persons, nay, children themselves, were admitted
to it in the first ages of the christia i church. Besides,
what is there in the ordinance, that is not at least well
suited to the young as to the old ? It is not a mysterious
rite, which the youthful mind is unable to understand.
Even the child can be made to comprehend its nature
and design. Nor is it, rightly viewed, a gloomy service.
On the contrary, it is a cheerful one, and perfectly ac¬
cordant with the joyous feelings, an I animated hopes of
the juvenile age. Were it calculated to throw the chills
and gloom of winter over the spring-time of your life,
there would, I confess, be some reason for your avoiding it.
But, believe me, it never has this effect, but by its abuse.
20
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
260
It was designed to add warmth to your good feelings,
and brightness to your prospects. And then, too, how
beautiful is the spectacle, when the youthful circle
gathers round the table of the Christian communion.
'Even the irreligious are forced to confess there is some-
thing peculiarly delightful in such a sight. Yes, if there
be among the works of God, any single object more in¬
teresting than all the rest, it is one in the bloom of exist-
ence—in the full glow of health—when everything is
gay and alluring in the surrounding scenes—when the
heart is warm, and the spirits buoyant, and hopes sanguine,
—seeking thus early to walk in all the commandments of
the Lord, blameless. If there is anything over which the
angels of God shed tears of joy, it is this. Nor only so.
At what period oflife, let me ask, will you be so well able
to secure the benefits of the communion as in youth,
when your minds are susceptible, and your hearts are
tender, and your affections and thoughts are fresh and
eager to attach themselves to whatever is fair and amia-
bie ? Believe me, the time will never arrive when this
service can be made so useful to you as it can now.
Everything pertaining to it is peculiarly suited to interest
and improve the affections of the young. The longer it
is neglected, the less is the benefit to be derived from
it. The old cannot so easily enter into its spirit, for their
sensibilities are blunted, and much of the early force of
their faculties is gone. Delay the duty till then, and
you will have, besides, many regrets for time lost, and
for opportunities of pleasure and improvement neglected.
Delay the duty till then, and the piety and virtue that
shall come from it, may also partake of the gloom and
melancholy of the season, in which they are produced.
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
21
Ml
Delay the duty, did I say ? I beseech you, think of the
hazard at which you make this arrangement. Is life so
certain, that you may dare to postpone, year after year,
what ought to be done now, when the images are before
your mind of one after another of your acquaintance cut
off in youth ? Go, stand by the graves of those who be¬
gan the last year with hopes as sanguine as yours are
now, and repeat there , if you can, the resolution to defer
a known dutv till old age.
«/ £3
The excuses for the neglect of the communion, you
have thus seen to be groundless. Can you continue to
urge them ? I appeal, in conclusion, to your better
thoughts and feelings.
I appeal to your sense of fitness and propriety. I
would know if there be anything more proper and fit, in
itself, than such a remembrance of Christ, as the com¬
munion contemplates 1 or anything better suited to cher¬
ish this remembrance of him than eating and drinking
together according to his direction 1 To the first ques¬
tion there is a ready answer in the affirmative, in every
good mind ; and as to the second, tell me, if upon a lit¬
tle reflection, you must not confess that some such ser¬
vice as the Lord’s supper, is the very thing you your¬
selves would have thought of, as most suitable for the end
it proposes, had you been desired to point out a method
of remembering your greatest benefactor ?
I appeal to your regard for consistency. You gather
yourselves together in honor of other benefactors. You
love to keep up a grateful memorial of what they were
and did. And shall he, whom you are invited to com¬
memorate, as Christians, and to whom you are immea-
22
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNION.
262
surably more indebted than to any other created being ;
shall he, of all whom you pronounce great and good, be
the only one, you so studiously avoid meeting together to
celebrate ? It seems to me that a proper regard to
consistency should prompt to something different from
this.
I appeal to your sense of obedience. Can you feel
that you have performed your whole duty, as a disciple
of Jesus, while the communion is neglected ? Is not
one injunction of our Lord as binding as another? It is
true, that when ritual institutions interfere with the
moral duties, the former must vield to the latter. But
when they do not, there is no difference between them
in point of obligation.
I appeal to your views of utility. You are not called
upon to obey an injunction, the reasons and motives of
which you cannot discern. The communion service is •
a useful one. Our Saviour thought it so, else he would
never have enjoined it upon the first disciples. Can it
be deemed less useful to us than it was to them ? On
the contrary, may it not be considered more so ? The
further removed Christians are, in point of time, from
the Author and Finisher of their faith, the greater, one
would suppose, must be their need of some such r a^ularly
recurring memorial of him. At any rale, the ordinance
is salutary in its effects. He who attends upon it, with
good purpose of heart, cannot but be in the way of
growing better and happier. It is a peculiarly affecting
service. We have no other in which the soul derives
so important an influence through the medium of the
senses. For one solemn moment the world is shut
out, and everything invites to useful meditation. Our
263
NEGLECT OF THE COMMUNIOV.
23
thoughts recur to him who spake and died as never
uninspired man spake and died. The best feelings
are awakened with n us. We form resolutions of
new obedience. We return to our homes stronger for
virtue and happier than we were. Why will any vol¬
untarily deprive themselves of such a source of im¬
provement and satisfaction ?
I appeal to your sentiments of love and gratitude.
Who, that has but the common feelings of human na¬
ture, is willing to forget the requests of a dying friend ?
What then may we not expect of the Christian of more
refined sensibilities ? what, especially, in regard to such
a friend as Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the world ?
Whose last words should be remembered like his ?
Whose dying requests ought to be so scrupulously obey¬
ed ? What indifference, what ingratitude, to say no
more of it, is it not to neglect the simple observance,
which he, for our benefit, recommended, almost with
his very last breath! Call to mind the circumstances
of his closing life, and observe how thoughtful he was
of his followers, even in the immediate view of a most
painful death. I need not recount them to you. They
are already present to your thoughts. Were ever cir¬
cumstances more affecting ? Yet, in the midst of them,
he collected his disciples, and appointed what he would
have us do in remembrance of him. Sacred are
the requests of the departing soul. This interesting
rite—what is it but the injunction of our dying Saviour ?
And have we the heart to neglect it? Then we are
willing to prove ourselves wanting in that affection and
gratitude for him, which we should deem it wrong not
to manifest in respect to far inferior benefactors.
24
neglect of the communion.
264
But I forbear. My limits would not allow me, even
could I think it necessary, to say all that might be
said to induce you to j erfor n this Christian duty. I
therefore leave the subject to your own meditations,
with the single question—whether, as the cold hand
of death presses upon you, you will not think that it
had been good for you to have early commemorated
the dying love of your Saviour in the method of his
appointment?—whether, as you then cast a retrospec¬
tive look upon the past, you will not find it the occa¬
sion of many bitter regrets, that, on the ground of such
poor excuses, you lived so long disobedient to the
sacred injunction, “ do this in remembrance of me? ”
1st Series.
No.
A
DIALOGUE
BETWEEN A CHRISTIAN
AND A DEIST.
<
BT THE AUTHOR OF
A DIALOGUE ON PROVIDENCE, FAITH AND PRATER.
PRINTED FOR THE
&mcrtcan aanitartan ^ssocfatton.
BOSTON,
LEONARD C. BOWLES, 50 WASHINGTON STREET.
1829 .
Price 4 Cents .
• .
• ~
BOSTOPf,
Press of Isaac R. Butts.
■ — . ..
A DIALOGUE
BETWEEN A CHRISTIAN
AND A DEIST.
Mr and Mrs Henderson had ascertained that their eld
est son had imbibed deistical opinions ; and they were
much distressed by this conviction. They had endeavor¬
ed to search out the causes which had led to this deplored
result: and agreed, that however it had been incurred,
there was but one line of conduct to pursue with him.
They considered it their imperative duty, in their own
example to manifest to him the beauty of holiness and
the hope and joy of believing ; and only in the spirit of
Christian love, candor, meekness, and forbearance, to use
any efforts to draw the soul of their son from the polluted
waters in which they feared it was sinking. Knowing
the weakness of human resolution, and the liability of all,
to have judgment clouded by feeling, they trusted not in
their own strength, but sought divine light to guide
them.
Affairs continued in this situation, when on a fine day
in June Mrs Henderson asked her son George if he could
be spared from the store to take a ride with her to Nahant.
She was in a feeble state of health, and George manifest¬
ed his usual alacrity in obtaining permission to devote
4
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN
268
the day to his mother. The weather was fine, and the
season luxuriant. Mrs Henderson was a true lover of
nature ; to speak more properly, she delighted in the con¬
templation of God’s works. To her the ride promised
pleasure in this way, if in no other. George also found
great pleasure in viewing beautiful scenery, and there
was to him a bewitching excitement, in the strongly
marked features of this little wild and naked peninsula.
George had never in his mother’s presence expressed
decidedly deistical opinions. With his father he had
twice held a long argument, and the result may be
gathered from a former part of this narrative. He had
no doubt of his mother’s having been informed of all he
had said; and he had some reluctance to discussing
these subjects with her. Yet he thought it would be
mean to disguise his sentiments, and would discover a
want of independence to shrink from expressing them
freely. Mrs Henderson had previously considered and
marked out in her own mind the course she thought best
to pursue with her son. If opportunity should favor
her wish to produce the desirable change, and she could
place his error in its true colors before his mind, so as to
give him a clear perception of the part he was taking,
she resolved to embrace it ; but if she saw no such
opening, she would content herself with trying to in¬
crease his confidence and affection in her and in his
father.
George loved and respected both his parents; and
though he had dared to provoke his father’s anger, by
obstinately maintaining his opinions, he had suffered
secret sorrow for his offence, and was glad to find a
mediator in his mother, and to assure her of his filial
269
A CHRISTIAN AND A DEIST.
5
affection and high sense of obligation to his father. Dis¬
covering his feelings here to be such as she wished, after
such remarks as she thought would strengthen them, she
left conscience to do its own work, and said not a word
on the cause of his father’s displeasure. George thus
became reassured, and cheerful spirits and innocent
gayety rendered the first hour after leaving the city a
short and pleasant one to both parties.
But when the mind is deeply impressed, whatever may
be the tone of its feelings, and however it may resolve to
suppress them, it will so color and give character to con¬
versation, as soon to display its state, and reveal the
causes which produced it. Thus it was with George
and his mother.
“ There is something very grand and even sublime in
this perpendicular pile of rocks, overhung as it is, with
vegetation ; it is beautiful also,” said Mrs Henderson, as
they were riding by the romantic scenery near the pretty
village of Lynn.
“ Yes,” replied George, “ I always admire these rude
and majestic rocks ; and the view of the valley too is
beautiful, and forms a fine relief.”
“ The world is full of beauty and grace,” said his
mother; “ a"nd I pity the heart that is insensible to it.”
“ So do I,” replied George. “ It is a glorious, magnifi¬
cent kaleidoscope.” George had unwittingly committed
himself, in making this comparison ;—and his mother
instantly caught at the idea implied by it.
“ What do you intend to express by that observation V 9
she asked.
George laughed, and looked a little confused, but said
nothing.
VOL. II.
t*
6
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN
270
“ I hope you do not mean to intimate that your
aberrations have extended to the degree your words
imply said his mother. “ If you have wandered into
the abyss of atheism, your case is more hopeless than I
have dreamed of. I pray God, you may not be so far
gone in error. 33
George made no reply.
“ You have never before, 3 ’ continued his mother,
u indicated, by the slightest expression, a disbelief in a
first great Cause; you have always, till now, manifested
an entire faith in the existence of God.”
“ I did not intend to do otherwise now, mother
replied George. “ But that beautiful little invention so
admirably illustrates the power of chance, that I was
wickedly tempted to make the observation. 33
“ You have probably heard it advanced, by those who
fancy themselves atheists, in proof of their doctrine, 33 said
his mother.
“ I certainly have, 33 replied George; “ and I think it
a specious argument, to say the least of it. 33
“ It is specious indeed,’ 3 said his mother ; “ but it
requires little investigation to show its want of soundness. ”*
“ Well, I declare it appears to me not so destitute of
truth; 33 replied George. “ Those who argue against the
power of chance, appeal to our understandings, and ask
triumphantly, whether it is possible that a fortuitous dis*
position of atoms in the universe could ever result in such
order and beauty as we see displayed in the natural
world ; and it does seem impossible that chance should
ever dispose them in such forms : yet if they were floating
for ages and ages in infinite space, they must constantly
be taking some new arrangement, and the possibility of
271
A CHRISTIAN AND A DEIST.
7
their being sometimes disposed in perfect order, vve must
admit; and if we look into a kaleidoscope, we shall be
astonished to see how often'.—Into this simple tube, a
few little, irregular, shapeless things are thrown in confu¬
sion, and a person who had never witnessed its wonders,
would feel sure that no order or beauty could ever result
from shaking them together ; yet you know, when lifted
to the eye and merely turned round, so as to change the
situation of these atoms, as we will call them, and give
chance her power over them, we have presented to us,
the greatest variety of beautiful forms, disposed in the
most perfect order. Now this seems to me to be a very
good refutation of that objection to the doctrine. 55
a Even if it were really as you represent, 75 replied his
mother, “ I might not be obliged to grant w’hat you
assume: for w r hat appears to be chance, may be, and I
have no doubt is, according to order established by infinite
mind ; though human faculties are too circumscribed to
compass its extent. 55
“ Well, but, 55 —interrupted George—
“ Wait a moment, 55 continued his mother, anticipating
his reply.—“ I should like to ask you, if there is nothing
in the kaleidoscope beside the few shapeless atoms you
speak of. Has not an intelligent mind, deeply versed
in philosophical principles, been at work to arrange two
mirrors in the tube, and dispose them so as to reflect
repeatedly each little, irregular thing, and thus give to
the whole the appearance, though not the reality, of order
and beauty 1 All that is admirable in that ingenious
little instrument is the effect of intelligence operating by
means adapted to produce the result which delights
us : and deprived of the power which an intelligent mind
8
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN
272
has given it, the little, irregular, shapeless things would
appear to be irregular and shapeless for ever.”
“ Well, 5 ’ said George, laughing,—“ though I should
be compelled to allow that you have destroyed this argu¬
ment, because I am not able at this moment to refute
you;—yet that would not be to concede the doctrine.
Killing one man, does not annihilate an army.”
“ I know that very well ;” replied his mother ; “ but
killing every man in the army, one after another, does a 3
effectually annihilate it, as if it had one great head which
was severed by a stroke of the sabre.”
It was the wish of the tyrant Caligula, that the
Romans had but one neck, that he might destroy them
by one blow,” said George. “ But I believe it was not
a vainer wish than Christians entertain for the destruction
of the host of arguments raised against them. The con-
quest of that army has never been achieved.”
“ Indeed, it has, my dear;” replied his mother. <l But
unfortunately these arguments, which compose your ar¬
my, though often vanquished, are still led out in battle
array, and must be fought and conquered again and again,
by the champions of truth.”
“ I had no intention of provoking a contest, mother;”
said George, laughing; “ I rejoice as much as you can
desire, at every victory obtained over an atheistical argu¬
ment. I have a full belief in the existence of the Deity,
and in his gracious attributes.”
“ I have always thought so;” replied his mother, in a
more cheerful tone of voice ; l< and I am rejoiced to hear
you confirm my impression. A hearty conviction of this
fundamental truth is a spark of living fire, which will
increase till every doubt of divine revelation will be con^
273
A CHRISTIAN AND A DEIST.
9
Burned by it. It cannot remain in a good and sensible mind
without producing its natural consequences. It will lead
you sooner or later to receive the glad tidings of salvation
through Jesus Christ.”
“ On that subject,” replied George, “ I could meet
you with stronger weapons. I do not, however, wish to
engage in the controversy ; though I have no doubt I
could satisfactorily reply to all you could advance.”
Pride of opinion and filial affection were now contending
in George’s bosom. lie loved his mother tenderly, and
dreaded to give her pain ; yet he was strongly attached
to the ingenious theory, as he thought it, which he had
adopted, and he could not help longing to defend it.
Mrs Henderson answered very meekly. “ Far be it
from me, my dear son, to enter the lists with you , I have
not the power to convince you by the arguments I
might use, that you have embraced erroneous notions ;
nor have I the smallest desire to attempt it.”
“ I do not know who could, if you could not,” said
George, a little disappointed.
“ If the able theologians who have given their whole
lives to these studies, and have written with all the power
of first-rate understandings, enlightened by all that can
be learned on the subject, if such writers fail to convince
you, what arrogance, what folly, it would be in me to
imagine that I could offer anything to induce you to
change your views !”
“ But all these writers you speak of,” said George,
u were prejudiced persons. They were priests, and con¬
tended, as they ought, to defend the cause they had
embraced. They would have been fools and cowards to
do otherwise. Yet their having fought manfully for their
10
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN
274
own side is no evidence that they were on the side of
truth. If this were allowed it would prove too much •
for in that case, both sides must be acknowledged to be
true; which is impossible. You will not deny that
infidels have been as zealous as bigots.”
“ But I should like to know,” said Mrs Henderson,
“ what vou think induced those men to embrace that
90
cause in the first place. They were not priests before
they were Christians.”
“ They were either weak men, blinded by prejudice
and ignorance,” replied George, “ or they were hypo¬
crites, and maintained tenets which they did not believe,
in order to secure power or independence. Ever since
the world was created men have striven for power and
influence ; and there is no engine they have found so
effectual for obtaining and holding it, as that of enslaving
the minds of the multitude by religious dogmas.”
“ It is a melancholy reflection,” said Mrs Henderson,
in a pensive tone, “ that the corruptions of the pure
principles of Christianity have been such, as to oblige the
honest mind to admit the truth of your last remark. But
if you could look farther into the subject, you would
perceive that, beyond all those dark clouds, there is a
bright and clear sky, where a risen Saviour still appears,
offering his gospel to his faithful followers. But you
cannot see this,” she added with a sigh.
“ No,” replied George, “ I must confess I cannot;
but the other I can see as clear as noon day; and there¬
fore, I do not think anything a priest can urge has any
weight, or ought to have any. If a sensible, intelligent
deist should discover arguments strong enough to convince
him, and he should meet his former associates in contro¬
versy, he might have some claim to be heard.”
275
A CHRISTIAN AND A DEIST.
11
t( But, my dear child,” said his mother, “ would not
your sensible deist, the moment he had become impartial
enough to weigh the arguments on both sides candidly,
and admit the force of those he had before opposed,
would he not at that moment be a Christian, and be
classed with your priests and hypocrites.”
“ No,” replied George ; “ if he had previously been in
favor of deism, and opposed to Christianity, and had sin¬
cerely labored to support and vindicate his opinions, and
no worldly advantage followed the change, I should
then think his candor and honesty manifest, and I should
be willing to hear what he had to say, and to believe, if
his arguments were sound.”
“ I do not see, then,” replied his mother, “ but you
are bound to examine the scriptures, and weigh their
testimony ; for certainly you cannot deny that Paul, and
Peter, and the other disciples of Jesus Christ, and the
early converts, both Jewish and Gentile, were previ¬
ously, so far as respected his mission, deists, and were
zealous to defend their faith ; nay, they were highly
offended with the doctrines they afterwaids embraced;
and no worldly advantage, but the contrary, followed
their change of opinion. Therefore they established
their candor and sincerity by your own test.”
“ Your argument would be irresistible,” said George,
“ if these histories were true; but unfortunately there is
no reality in them. All, which, it is pretended, was
written by these good men, is a sheer fabrication. It is
all an imposture.”
• “ How many great and good men have believed it!”
said Mrs Henderson.
“ They were all blinded, mother,” said George, with
12
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN
276
increasing confidence ; “ all under the yoke of ecclesias¬
tical domination ; the instruments of priestcraft enveloped
their minds in the midnight darkness of bigotry and
superstition.”
“ Poor men !” exclaimed Mrs Henderson, “ how I
pity them. If Dr * * *, and Mr * * *, and Professor
* * *, and a host of our own worthies, and a still larger
host in Great Britain and on the continent of Europe;
for I particularize a few, because you know them per¬
sonally, and can have no doubt of their talents, integrity,
or learning; if this host, I say, of the present and past
ftges, could only have had”—She suddenly stopped.
“ If they could only have had, what?”—asked George.
“ I had better suppress what I was going to say
replied his mother, in a lower and softened tone. “ It
would only excite your temper, and I should be very
sorry to do tint.”
“ Never fear,” replied George, laughing.
“ Be it upon you then said his mother, laughing in
her turn. “ [ was going to say if all these men could
only have had the wisdom, the clear perception, the
freedom from prejudice—extensive views, sound sense
and erudition of George W. Henderson, how much the
world would have gained ; and how much expense of
time, health, and money, might have been saved in their
labors!”
George bit his lip—whipped the horse, and looked
straight forward. They drove on a few minutes in
silence. At length Mrs Henderson said—“ Forgive me,
my dear boy, I am so heart-sick, and soul-sick of this
deistical flummery, this jargon of presumption and folly,
that I am hardly able to repress my contempt—not for
the persons who are the dupes of this sophistry ; for them,
277
A CHRISTIAN AND A DEIST.
13
I feel only regret and sorrow—bat for the flimsy support
they attempt, I can feel no other sentiment than disgust;
it has been repeated and repeated till it is stale and offen¬
sive beyond bearing.”
“ Sarcasm is not argument,” said George, tartly;
while his lip curled, and his eye flashed Are.
“ If sarcasm, by throwing a broad light on the subject,
makes the truth evident, it operates like a powerful
argument,” said Mrs Henderson. " By contrasting your
inexperience, your ignorance of the whole ground in dis¬
pute, inferior powers of judging, and all that distinguishes
youths like yourself from such men as the learned, the
wise, and the good, who have lived since the Christian
era, so full a light is thrown on the circumstance of
your standing up alone, to pronounce them in error, and
yourself the only correct man, that you must see the
truth of my assertion, when I call it presumption and
folly.”
“ You ought not to say that I stand alone,” said George.
i( There have been many as learned and gifted men as
Christianity can boast, who have denied the facts on
which the faith of Christians rests; and who have
ably defended the ground of opposition.”
“ There have been, I allow,” replied his mother, “ on
that side of the question, some writers who rank high as
to intellect and attainments, and, at the time they wrote,
they dazzled the world with their talents. But few, if
any, of them even pretended to an acquaintance with bib¬
lical criticism ; and there is a ready solution of their scep¬
ticism, in the moral perversion of some, in the strength
of early prejudices in others, and in the misfortune of
never meeting with rational and candid opponents.
VOL. ir. 2
14
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN
278
Revelation was presented to their minds enveloped in
falsehoods, and they threw it away in disgust, without
an impartial examination.”
*
“ I should doubt that/’ said George ; “ it could only
be a fool or a villain, who could treat the subject in that
way.”
“ I am rejoiced to hear you express such an opinion,
my son said Mrs Henderson, “and I earnestly hope
*
you will prove its sincerity by such a deep and persever¬
ing investigation, as shall entirely emancipate your head
and heart from error. But I assure you that neither
Hume nor Voltaire, the two great champions of deism in
their respective countries, by their own confession, ever
read the scriptures, much less studied them, as they
should such ancient documents, with careful comparison
and minds freed from a desire to condemn them. Un¬
fortunately for the young of all ages, the greatest minds
are not always accompanied with the purest hearts.
That deistical writers were men of genius, is no evidence
therefore, that they were pious or virtuous.”
“ Neither are they proved to be wanting in piety and
virtue, because they wrote in defence of deism,” said
George.
“ I think I may convince you that such writers, if
men of talents, were thus wanting said Mrs Hender¬
son. “But I will leave it for another opportunity; at
present your mind is not in a state to perceive the truth
of many things which it will, I hope, ere long be willing
to receive.”
Mrs Henderson would now gladly have dropped the
subject, for she feared her son would be weary of it; and
she thought it wiser, that truth should come slowly and
279
A CHRISTIAN AND A DEIST.
15
surely, than that by pressing it too long or abruptly, she
should incur the risk of increasing his disgust for the
investigations she wished him to make. But George, as
is usual in such cases, was ardent in pursuit. Not that
it was truth exactly, which he sought; though he, like
most others in a similar predicament, persuaded himself,
it was that alone he desired. He loved to argue ; and
he loved to gain victories. “ At any rate,” said he,
“you will allow that I do not stand alone.”
“ Why comparatively, George,” replied his mother;
for the whole number you could bring on your side
would seem inconsiderable, when opposed to the host of
believers.”
“ The argument ought not to rest on the talents, or
ingenuity, or numbers of men who advocate it,” said
George, “but on its own internal strength. Truth is
immutable, and must defend itself.”
“ Truth, they say, lies in a well,” said Mrs Hender¬
son, playfully, “ and if so, we must have men experienced
in diving to bring it up.”
“ Agreed,” replied George; “ but when it is brought
up, it should be able to manifest itself, and not require
advocates or interpreters.”
“ Let it only be displayed in its native dignity and
beauty, and it will need no extrinsic aid,” replied his
mother ; “ it will be embraced by every pure heart, every
unsophisticated mind. But, unfortunately, too many
have clothed truth in garments of their own making ; and
while each has invested her with a different attire, and
contended about her, as if the drapery was a constituent
part of herself, the simple beauty and majesty of her
form can no longer be discerned. So that many people,
16
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN
280
who are ignorant of all this ill treatment, believe that it is
only a pile of old fashioned and cast off apparel they are
viewing, and will not believe that truth, bright and beau*
tiful, is to be found underneath. All these investment*
must be stripped off—and every false covering laid aside
by those who wish to contemplate divine truth in her
native splendor.”
“ I am sure that is what I wish to do,” said George ;
“ and it is for that very reason I have been studying so
many books ; and investigating the subject of religion,
with so much earnestness. There are not many of my
age who have thought and read as much as I have to
obtain the truth ; and I should think that would con¬
vince you, that I am neither presumptuous nor foolish.
I never had such epithets applied to me before, and I
assure you, I did not find it easy to bear the imputation.”
M rs Henderson answered with solemn emphasis,
though in a tone of gentle affection. “ Until you have
looked deeply enough into your own heart to perceive
that you, like all others, are disposed to be presumptuous,
till you can be sensible that the weakness of your mind
amounts even to folly, until you feel yourself to be as
nothing, compared to the Deity whom you acknowledge
and worship, you can be in no fit state of mind to seek
truth sincerely, or embrace it when presented to you.”
“ I have never imagined anything depended on the
state of my own mind, in relation to this subjectsaid
George. “ I cannot conceive why I am not at all times in
a proper state of mind to seek truth, and embrace it when
presented to me ; that is, when I am not too gay and
happy to fix my attention upon such subjects.”
“This is a subject,” my dear son,” said Mrs Hender-
281
A CHRISTIAN AND A DEIST,
17
son, “ on which I wish to talk with you. On the state of
your own mind you have not thought much, and as yet
know very little about it. Let us leave the whole field of
polemic divinity to those who are properly qualified to
explore it ; neither you nor I are prepared for such a
labor. Your knowledge is quite circumscribed; and the
little you have is altogether on one side of the subject”—
“ You are mistaken there, mother,” interrupted
George, “ I think I know a little of both sides.”
“My knowledge also,” continued Mrs Henderson,
without noticing George’s contradiction, “ is necessarily
extremely limited ; and is nearly as much confined to
the affirmative side as yours to the negative. We might
therefore dispute for years, without either convincing or
enlightening the other. But every body can look into his
own heart. Every body can reflect upon his own thoughts ;
and study his own feelings, and in this way we can all
come at some truths which it is important we should all
possess.”
“ I confess I know very little upon this subject,” re¬
plied George, “ nor do I understand how it can have any
bearing on the points in question.”
“ It has so much bearing upon them, my dear,” said
his mother, “ that if the heart is not in a right state to
receive truth, especially religious truth, the strongest ar¬
guments in its favor will be as much thrown away, as wa¬
ter spilled upon the ground, which cannot be gathered
up. It was this fact to which Jesus Christ alluded, when
he said, ‘ if ye believe not Moses and the Prophets,
neither would ye believe though one rose from the dead,’
meaning, if the heart is not in a right state to receive the
truths already offered, neither would it be able to receive
greater evidences of truth.”
VOL. II.
2 *
18
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN
282
“ I don’t know how I am to find out whether my heart
is in a right state or not,” said George : and he added
laughing,—“ I hardly know whether I have got any
heart.”
“ Perhaps it will assist you in making discoveries, if
I ask you a few questions respecting your thoughts and
feelings,” said his mother.
“ Very well,” replied George, who was at bottom an
ingenuous youth, “ I am sure I am willing you should
ask as many questions as you please ; and I will answer
as well as I know how.”
■ c Tell me then,” said Mrs Plenderson, “ what are
your feelings respecting this question of a revelation
from God by his Son Jesus Christ.”
“ My feelings !” repeated George, “ I have no feelings
about it, that I know of.”
“ You said you wished to know the truth, and have been
reading a great deal to find it,” said Mrs Henderson.
“ Well I am sure I do wish to know the truth,” re¬
plied her son ; “and you know I have read till I was
tired of reading on the subject.”
“ Do not our wishes indicate our feelings?” asked his
mother.
“ Oh I understand you—yes, certainly,” answered
George; “and I say then, my feelings are, if the Chris¬
tian system is true, I should be glad to know it.”
“ And do you really believe that to be the case,
George ?” asked his mother.
“ Certainly,” he answered.
“ And in that case, you feel ready to embrace it, and
acknowledge 3ourself a disciple of Christ?” said Mrs
Henderso.i.
283
A CHRISTIAN AND A DEIST.
19
“ Of course, if I find it true/ 5 replied George, in a
.> .
/iesitating tone.
“ Suppose for the sake of argument,” said his mother,
<l that in conversation with some learned and good man,
he should be able to offer you a train of facts, substan¬
tiated by evidence that you could not question, and a
course of reasoning that would place the truth of the
Christian revelation, and the histories of it by the Apos¬
tles, beyond further dispute, and render it so clear and
convincing to you, that you could no longer withhold
your assent, or find an objection to make ; would you in
that case feel rich in the conviction that you had received
a guide for your future faith and conduct, and that the
means to attain heavenly happiness were provided in the
precepts and doctrines of Jesus Christ ? Or would you
feel a lurking disappointment, that you had been van¬
quished in argument, and mentally go over the ground
again, anxious to find some new argument which you
had neglected to urge, or some flaw in his statement,
that would give you again the advantage.”
George appeared to be reflecting for some time, and
made no reply.
“ Do you think you can judge fairly, what would be
your feelings in such circumstances ?” asked his mother.
“ I do not know that I can,” he replied. “ It is a new
thought to me; I never conceived of such a possibility,
and therefore never considered what effect it would have
on my mind.”
“But you can, by a little reflection, imagine yourself
in such a situationsaid his mother, “ and cannot you
imagine how you should feel, and w T hat you should say.
“ Of course,” said George, “if I entered into a con¬
troversy with any one, [ should try with all the strength
20
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN
284
of my reasoning powers, to maintain my ground. I
should be wrong, if I did not.”
“ But after you had put forth all your strength, and
brought forward all your objections to the facts he
alleged, and had advanced all your arguments to support
your own side, if you were still met with stronger and
better sustained evidences in favor of that system,—what
then V 9 said Mrs Henderson.
“Why then I should acknowledge myself conquered,
I suppose,” said George.
Cl Reluctantly ?—or cordially ?” asked his mother.
“ Why it is not very pleasant to be put down, and
proved to be in the wrong, let us advocate what we will,”
said George.
“ That depends upon the state of our feelings in
relation to the subject,” said his mother. “If you had
picked up a stone in your rambles, and was about throw¬
ing it away again, and some one told you it was a gem
of great value,—a diamond of the first water, and would
make your fortune ; you might not readily believe it;
you might be afraid of being imposed upon ; you might
think it very improbable ; or it might appear impossible;
you would state all your doubts, and raise every objec¬
tion, and bring forward every argument which appeared
to you to disprove it;—but you would not find it very un¬
pleasant to be put down, and proved to be in the wrong.”
“ Certainly I should not;” replied George, laughing.
“ But you would not have the same feelings, in case it
should be proved to you that the Christian system is
true?” said Mrs Henderson.
“I cannot say I should,” replied her son.
“ Can you then deny that your feelings, your heart, is
engaged on the side of deism ?” asked Mrs Henderson.
285
A CHRISTIAN AND A DEIST.
21
“ I cannot acknowledge it;” replied George, hesita¬
tingly. “ Why should I feel any predilection for one
side more than the other? I have always believed myself
entirely impartial, and cannot conceive that I am not.”
“You must decide that point yourself, my son;”
replied his mother. “ If you feel sure that you would
not be sorry to be convinced you have been advocating
an error, if you would not be glad to maintain your
cause, and even to convince those opposed to you; there
is no doubt that truth alone is the object of your pursuit,
and that when it is fairly presented to you, it will be
cordially received. But if, on examining your heart, you
do not find that such would be your feelings, it must be
evident to you, as it is to me, that you argue for victory,
and not for truth, and that you will shut your eyes to
whatever opposes your opinions, whenever it is possible.”
“ Allowing my mind, for the sake of argument, to be
in the state you suppose it—what do you think I ought
to do ?” asked George.
“ I should advise you, my dear,” replied his mother,
in the first place, to examine the effects on the human
character, of the two opposite opinions ; and to ascertain
as far as you can, which belief, fully acted upon, is most
conducive to the happiness of this life. If it should
appear to you, after such a deliberate examination, that
mankind universally need such a faith in a superintend¬
ing providence as the gospel discovers to us, to reconcile
them to the trials of life ; if they require the restraints
which a conviction of a future state of rewards and
punishments imposes ; if they are supported under suffer-
ing, by the promises of God ; if this system is calculated
to improve, elevate, and purify character; if, in short, it
greatly increases happiness, and diminishes sorrow, even
22
A DIALOGUE 3ETWEEN
2S6
in this world, setting aside the internal evidence this fact
would afford of its divine origin, should you not think it
highly desirable, that mankind, whether the system be
true or false, should be induced to give a full and hearty
credence to it V 5
“ Most certainly replied George. tC if such could be
the fact. But. it is a fundamental principle in moral
philosophy, that falsehood cannot reaily increase happi¬
ness, but on the contrary, must destroy it, first or last.
And this is one reason for trying to induce people to give
up the delusion which charms them so much.”
“ That is begging the question,” said Mrs Henderson.
“ How so ?” asked George.
“ By taking it for granted that the Christian system is
a falsehood ; which is the point at issue,” replied his
mother. “ You must not assume points in this way;
but simply inquire what is the fact, whether a belief in
the gospel be desirable or not. Can you not inquire
what are the advantages or disadvantages of the Christian
O O
faith, as it respects our condition in this life ?”
“ Why certainly that can be done,” said George.
u Well my dear,” replied his mother, “ that is what I
wish you to do in the first place, as candidly and impar¬
tially as you can. When you have taken time to weigh
this question maturely, I think you will perceive that it is
desirable that mankind should believe in divine revela¬
tion. You will see that such a belief must conduce to
their temporal welfare ; if so, you will also perceive that no
person of kind and benevolent disposition would ever
desire to utter a word tending to raise a doubt in the
mind of a believer; and you will resolve henceforth to
hold your opinion in silence and secrecy, if you continue
287
A CHRISTIAN AND A DEIST.
OQ
.
to believe that your superior intellect enables you to see
farther and deeper and higher than all the Christian world,
and that you know to be false what they receive as divine
truth. When you can feel and resolve thus, and not till
then, will your mind be in a fit state to examine on what
evidence the Christian faith rests.”
George made no reply to these remarks, and his mother
after a short silence added—“ We will dismiss this sub¬
ject now, for 1 find there is too much excitement in the
prospect, to allow the mind to dwell on anything else.”
George did not feel satisfied with the turn the conver¬
sation had taken ; nor with the situation in which it left
him. He was somewhat tired of the subject, which his
mother perceived, and on that account had changed it for
a lighter one ; still he did not like to leave the argument
resting in this manner. He was not easy in Ins new
predicament, but he saw no ready way to extricate him¬
self, and therefore acquiesced in his mother’s proposal of
suspending the conversation. They soon arrived at Na-
hant, where they found a numerous company, and a new
and livelier train of thought took possession of his mind.
When his mother after dinner retired to her chamber
to refresh herself by a little sleep, George rambled out
alone among the rocks, and indulged his disposition to
muse. He tried to comply with his mother’s request, and
to discover the advantages that would result to him if he
could be convinced that the Christian religion was found-
ed in truth. But this was a new subject, of investiga¬
tion ; he had never thought upon it, and was quite unpre¬
pared to look deeply and thoroughly into it. His reason¬
ings and his facts had been altogether in another path.
To meet the arguments of those who defend the system,
24
A DIALOGUE, &C.
28S
and to oppose to them, all he had been able to collect, or
could himself suggest, had been his aim and his habit;
and any other mode of examining the subject, he had not
attempted. At one time he resolved, that he would mod¬
estly acknowledge to his mother his inability to comply
with her wishes, and request her aid in pointing out the
benefit, in our temporal state, of a belief in Christianity ;
but his pride revolted at such an idea, and he at length
determined he would take longer time to consider the
subject and say nothing more respecting it at present.
In this state of mind, after tea, he brought the chaise
to the door and handed his mother into it. She had no
intention of alluding again to religion. If she excelled
o o o
in any talent, it was in watching nicely the state of feel¬
ing of those with whom she associated; and in a delicate
tact, that enabled her to adapt her treatment to the ever
changing and complicated tone of their spirits, and the
degree of light, at the moment beaming on their under-
standings. The conversation during their ride home was
various and pleasant. Mrs Henderson manifested her
usual affectionate attentions to her son ; entertained him
with anecdotes of her early days, a theme always delight¬
ful to the young ; encouraged him by acknowledging and
approving his good qualities; listened with complacency
to his gay and juvenile remarks, and repressing the dis¬
position, often so strong in maternal bosoms, to reprove
and give advice, she strove to render the excursion so
pleasing as to leave on his feelings a happy impression.
X
SECOND
ANNUAL REPORT
OF THE
AMERICAN UNITARIAN
ASSOCIATION.
WITH AN APPENDIX.
BOSTON,
BOWLES AND DEARBORN, 72 WASHINGTON STREET.
GENERAL DEPOSITORY OF THE AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSO¬
CIATION.
1827 .
BOSTCLV,
Isaac R. Butts and Co. Printers.
AMERICAN
UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION.
THE SECOND ANNUAL MEETING
Of the American Unitarian Association was held in
Boylston Hall, Washington Street, Boston, on Tuesday
evening, May 29th, 1827, Rev. Dr Bancroft presiding.
Rev. Dr Thayer of Lancaster offered prayers. The record
of the proceedings at the last anniversary was read by the
Secretary. The Treasurer read the following Report,
which was accepted.
TREASURER’S REPORT.
The Treasurer, at the last anniversary, submitted his
first Annual Report, with a certificate of the Auditors,
certifying that the accounts to the 31st December, 1825,
had been examined, with the vouchers, leaving a balance
in his hands of $545,22. At the same time a pro forma
account was exhibited, (which will be included in the ac¬
count of the present year) from January 1, to May 29,
1826, with a balance of money on hand, $709,98.
The Treasurer now presents his second Annual Report,
embracing the period from January 1, 1826, to May 24,
1827, a year and upwards of four months, with the cer¬
tificate of the Auditors.
4
RECEIPTS.
Balance in the Treasury January 1, 1826
47 Life Subscriptions - $30 each
Annual Subscriptions -
Donations -
(a) Received for support of a Domestic Missionary in
Boston - - -
Received on account of Tracts sold
545 22
1410 00
764 00
383 26
712 00
154 97
Total amount of receipts - $3969 45
EXPENDITURES.
Donation to Society in Harrisburg, Penn. - - 100 00
“ Society in Augusta, Georgia - - 100 00
Mr Farr, for preaching at Brooklyn, Conn, while Rev. }
Mr May was on a journey in the service of the > 60 00
Association - y
(b) 65,500 Tracts including paper, printing, &c. - 1725 17
Amount carried forward - - $19S5 17
(a) Received from Ladies of Brattle Street Society - 100 00
“ “ Federal Street Society - 174 00
“ “ West Boston Society - 85 00
“ “ New South Society - 150 00
<£ “ New North Society - 50 00
“ “ Twelfth Congregational Church 65 00
“ cc Chauncy Place Society - 47 00
Received by hands of Rev. Dr. Tuckerman - 41 00
$712 00
(b) Tract No. 1. The Faith once delivered to the Saints )
3 editions )
2. One Hundred Scriptural Arguments, 3 eds.
3. Sewall’s Discourse on Human Depravity, )
2 eds. - 5
4. Omniscience the Attribute of the Father >
Only, 2 eds. )
5. On Religious Phraseology, 2 eds.
6. Letter on the Principles of the Mission- <
ary Enterprise, 2 eds. - $
7. The Unitarian’s Answer, 2 eds.
8. Channing’s Discourse on the Evidences )
of Revealed Religion, 2 eds. - >
9. Causes of the Progress of Liberal Chris- )
tianity in New-England, 2 eds. - )
9,500
8,000
5,000
5,000
4,000
4,000
6,000
6,000
6,000
5
Amount brought forward
Travelling Expenses of Agents
Rev. E. Q. Sewall for editing the Christian Reg¬
ister -
Extra copies, new types &c.
- *1985 17
498 05
230 00
73 74
303 74
Deduct received from Mr D. Reed, allowance ) ~g
for new subscribers to the Christian Register, 5
Printing Circulars, Certificates &c. -
Advertising, Account Books, Collecting Subscriptions, )
writing for Secretary, Postage &,c. - )
Six months Salary of Rev. Dr Tuckerman as Domestic )
Missionary - - - - )
245 01
50 On
38 07
300 00
Total amount of expenditures - - - $3116 90
We hereby certify that we have examined the accounts of Lewis
Tappan, as Treasurer of the American Unitarian Association to the
24th May 1827, with the necessaiy vouchers ; that the same are cor¬
rect ; and the balance in the Treasurer’s hands on the said day was
eight hundred fifty two dollars and fifty five cents.
JSigned) Robert wTterston, } Auditors.
Boston , 24 th May , 1827.
RESOURCES OF THE ASSOCIATION.
Cash in the Treasury May 24, 1827 - $852 55
Due from Subscribers in the countrv for years >
1825 and 1826 - - < d69 00
Amount carried forward - $369 00 852 55
10. Remarks on a Popular Error respecting
the Lord’s Supper, 1 ed. - y 5
11. Unitarianism Vindicated, 1 ed. - 5,000
First Annual Report of the American Unita- ) ~ .
rian Association, 1 ed. - y 5
Dr. Tuckerman’s Report, 1 ed. - 1,000
[ *
Total
65,500
6
Amount brought forward
Do. for year 1827 -
Due from Subscribers in Boston for years 1825 and )
1826 .5
Do. for year 1827 -
Due from Mr David Reed for Tracts sold by him )
and due in Cash - 5
For Tracts in hands of Agents, per agreement,)
of which is due in cash $68 78 5
Additional allowance for new Subscribers to the )
Christian Register, - 5
From Messrs Bowles & Dearborn for Tracts )
sold by them, but not yet due - 5
Do. for subscriptions received by them
$369 00 852 55
832 00
16
00
201
,00
69
11
206
29
35
34
360
15
47
00
1418 00
310 74
Tracts in hands of General Agents estimated at 3-5ths of
retail prices -
Total amount of Assets of the Association,
407 15
! 366 95
$3355 39
The Executive Committee intended keeping the Life
Subscriptions as a permanent fund, but as the sums due
to the Association were not paid agreeably to expectation,
they have been obliged to borrow from this fund to meet
the necessary disbursements. The number of Life Sub-
scriptions is 53, at 30 dollars each, amounting to $1590,00.
The number of Annual Subscribers is 838, and the amount
of their subscriptions is $977,00. As the principal part
of these subscriptions is one dollar each, the expense of
collecting would be saved, if subscribers would transmit
the sums due from them to Messrs Bowles & Dearborn,
at the Depository of the Association No. 72, Washington
Street, who are authorized on behalf of the Treasurer, to
receive and receipt for all Annual Subscriptions, Life
Subscriptions and Donations.
7
All Life Subscriptions and Donations will be acknow¬
ledged in the Christian Register, or otherwise, when re¬
quested.
All which is submitted by
LEWIS TAPPAN, Treasurer.
Boston , 29 tli May , 1827.
The Secretary read the Report of the Executive Com¬
mittee, which was accepted.
SECOND ANNUAL REPORT
OF THE
EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE.
The second anniversary of this Association imposes
upon those who have the control of its affairs a duty, which
they rejoice to perform. They are required to exhibit
an account of their operations, and to present such state¬
ments, as may show the utility or the defects of the insti¬
tution. They conceive that they are also expected to
call the attention of this meeting, and of Unitarian Chris¬
tians generally, to those circumstances which do, or may
powerfully affect our religious interests. As one of the
objects particularly entrusted to them, is the increase of
mutual acquaintance among Unitarians, they should pos¬
sess a greater amount of information respecting the pro¬
gress of our sentiments than can be obtained by in¬
dividuals. Their correspondence, extended in various
directions, enables them to estimate the degree of favor
which these opinions enjoy, and the probability of their
rapid diffusion. The present occasion is favorable to an
attempt at producing unity of sentiment and energy of ac¬
tion on points of vital importance. The annual meeting
of this society is not designed to create a temporary
excitement. The effects of our anniversary should be
perceived through the subsequent year. It is the only
celebration in which Unitarians throughout the United
States feel an interest, or can be represented. If no other
good were effected by the existence of this Association,
than the annual recurrence of such a meeting, this alone
would justify its establishment.
The objects proposed in our constitution have been
pursued during the last year, as far as circumstances
permitted. The need of information on which reliance
could be placed, induced the Committee, as was stated in
the last Report, to incur the expense of sending a special
agent to the Western States. He was directed to travel
through Pennsylvania, Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana and Illi¬
nois, and to ascertain the real wants and disposition of
the people, to collect such facts as might illustrate their
religious history and character, to form acquaintance with
those persons whom he should find to hold the same prin¬
ciples of belief with himself, and to open the way for
future correspondence and operation. This gentleman
was employed on his tour during five months, having at
his return, “ passed through twelve States, visited fifteen
Counties in Pennsylvania, twenty-five in Ohio, twelve in
Kentucky, twenty-two in Indiana, twelve in Illinois and
two in Missouri, and travelled between four and five
thousand miles, and one half of this distance on horse¬
back.” His journey was highly satisfactory. The intelli¬
gence which he transmitted was ample, and the sources
whence it was derived, were such as entitle it to reliance.
Correspondents have been secured, by whom we shall be
informed of opportunities that occur of introducing true
9
religion into the cities, or among the scattered inhabitants
of this part of the republic, which must be indebted to
the Atlantic States for the means of religious instruction,
or be imperfectly enlightened. A security is provided
against an injudicious appropriation of money, to places
of which we before had insufficient knowledge, and the
perseverance, fidelity and success that marked Mr Thomas’
mission entitle him to the gratitude of the Association.
In the course of the last summer the Committee availed
themselves of the services of several members of the
Theological School at Cambridge, who devoted a part of
their vacation to journeys in behalf of the Association.
The Counties of Barnstable, Bristol, Plymouth, Essex,
Middlesex, Worcester, Hampshire, Hampden and Frank¬
lin, in this State, and some towns in New-Hampshire and
Maine were visited, and though the time that could be
spent in this office, allowed only a rapid survey of the
ground, much useful information was gathered, that is
now on the files of the Secretary, and some interest
awakened in the minds of the people. Mr May, of Brook¬
lyn, in Connecticut, was also employed to visit some
towns in that State, and has transmitted intelligence that
may assist the future directors. Letters have been re¬
ceived from the middle and southern States, and the
Committee have embraced whatever opportunities were
offered of learning the spiritual condition of the land.
From these various sources of intelligence—narratives
of agents, correspondence, personal interviews and public
documents, the Committee have been enabled to prepare
a brief sketch of the situation and prospects of Unitari-
anism in the United States at the present time.
The State of Maine offers much to encourage us. De-
10
cisive marks have recently appeared of uneasiness under
modes of religious instruction which have prevailed, al¬
most to the exclusion of better views of Christianity.
The system, to which its friends have unjustly appropri¬
ated the name of orthodox, does not hold its former place
in the confidence of the people ; and dissatisfied, if not
disgusted, both with the doctrines, and with the manner
of their inculcation, they are eager to receive a more
rational faith. In this state of mind, they are liable to
run to an opposite extreme from the faith they have left.
The present is an interesting and important period in the
religious history of this State. The community are ripe
for change, ready to throw off the trammels of spiritual
domination and think for themselves. Books and teachers
would here produce immediate effects, and the Committee
hope that the increase of funds will enable them to em¬
ploy a missionary in Kennebec county, where particularly
one might render service to the cause of truth.
From New-Hampshire also, favorable intelligence has
been received—from Portsmouth, Keene, Concord, Dun¬
stable and other towns. Little impression has yet been
made by our opinions in Vermont, but the Society at
Burlington is in a prosperous state. In Rhode Island,
one congregation only, is known as Unitarian. \t is large
and respectable. Information derived from various sources
has shown, that the efforts in Connecticut, to prevent
even a desire of acquaintance with Unitarianisrn, have
not been successful. Many intelligent individuals in
different sections of the State are favorably disposed to
our tenets, and w T hen opportunity allows, may become
their open advocates. The distribution of tracts, if they
can be introduced into this State, will gradually remove
11
the prejudices of the people, and prepare them for an
attendance on Unitarian preaching.
In Massachusetts, Unitarianism has during the last
year made considerable progress, especially in the towns
lying along the Connecticut. The churches in that part
of the State include men of intelligence and influence.
The Unitarian paper, originally established at Greenfield,
has been removed to Northampton, and promises efficient
aid to liberal Christianity. In the interior of the Com¬
monwealth, the principles of religious freedom and simple
Christianity not only retain their long established influ¬
ence, but here, and also in Essex county, they have
gained an increase of power. In Boston, and in the
•
neighboring towns, the past winter has been a season
of peculiar interest. The attention to religious and moral
subjects has been greater than for some previous years.
Though strenuous and persevering efforts have been
made, to give ascendancy to another system of faith, the
members of the Committee, after a careful observation
of the aspect of society, avow their honest conviction,
that the advocates and professors of Unitarianism in this
city are not less numerous, and are, in many respects,
more enlightened, decided and active, than at the com¬
mencement of the last summer. A society has been
gathered under most favorable auspices, in the new church
in Purchase Street, and another meetinghouse will soon
be erected in the south part of the city. While they
rejoice in the stability of sentiment among their friends,
they still more rejoice in the increase of vital piety and
practical goodness. They think they have beheld evi¬
dences of religious improvement. The crowded audien¬
ces that have attended the lectures delivered in our
12
churches on Sunday evenings, have borne testimony to
the interest felt in such services. The Sunday School
Society, recently established, whose branches are meant
to extend into other, and distant places, will provide, or
call into action the means of Christian instruction, which
have hitherto been partially used in this w T ay. In the
towns about Boston, great exertion has been made to in¬
troduce opinions, hostile to those cherished by us. Your
Committee have not the disposition to inquire into the
propriety of the measures adopted for this end. They
may only speak of the consequences, which have been
unhappy, in producing dissension and pain ; but which
have also been favorable, in awakening inquiries into
the grounds of belief, confirming the faith of many in the
elements of the gospel, and enkindling a greater zeal in
their support.
The situation of the poor in Boston, seemed to the
Committee, to have strong claims on their sympathy, as
trustees of funds devoted to religious and benevolent pur¬
poses. In a city containing sixty thousand inhabitants,
it must be, that many are deprived through circumstan¬
ces, or their own indifference, of the benefit of religious
privileges. The sad condition of these persons, the ig¬
norance and wretchedness of whole families, and especial¬
ly the neglected wants of children, called for a more
effectual assistance, than could be furnished by individ¬
uals. It was doubtful whether the Committee would be
justified, in appropriating the funds of the Association to
such an object, and a subscription was proposed among
the ladies who attend the liberal churches in Boston.
The necessary sum was soon obtained. With the bene¬
ficence which has ever distinguished Christian woman,
13
they offered both money and personal services. By a
most happy coincidence of circumstances, Rev. Dr Tuck-
erman was at that time released from the engagements of
a parish and was disposed to enter on this field of useful¬
ness. The success which has attended his labors from
their commencement, has surpassed the most sanguine
expectations of the friends of this mission. A hall was
procured in the North part of the city, in which divine
service has been attended on Sunday evenings by a full
* assembly. The calls on the missionary for counsel and
assistance have been more than he could possibly answer,
and his devotedness and perseverance have been carried
so far as seriously to affect his health. In view of the
wants of that class to whom he ministers, he has repeat¬
edly advised the appointment of another laborer in the
same sphere of duty, and your Committee have no doubt,
that a slight effort would procure the requisite salary. As
soon therefore as a suitable person can be found, the
means of employing his aid will be solicited. The good
effected by this mission has been such as merits our
thanks to those who bestowed the means of its establish¬
ment, to him who has prosecuted it with untiring zeal, and
especially to that Providence, under which this moral
engine was brought into operation. The first quarterly
Report of the Boston Missionary has been printed, and
this and a second report, lately made by him, contain
many affecting statements. The relief which he has
been enabled to administer to the destitute and friendless,
through the kindness of those who have supplied his
“ poors’ purse,” has been the means of saving families
from intemperance and ruin, and of preparing them for
direct religious instruction. The correspondence of Uni-
2
I
14
tananism to the wants of the poor has been practically
and forcibly exhibited.
A second Unitarian Church has been recently dedi¬
cated in New-York ; its prospects are good, a pastor only
is needed to its prosperity. Events of a remarkable
character have occurred within the last year, in the
western part of the State of New-York. The church at
Trenton has been strengthened by the efforts to over¬
throw it, and the violent policy of the dominant sect in
that region, has made itself obnoxious to all friends of
“ decency and order.” The church at Philadelphia has
had considerable accession of strength ; that at Baltimore,
has recovered from its embarrassments, and is prepared
for a settled ministry: and the society at Washington
maintains itself successfully amidst the obstacles to its
growth. Liberal Christianity has also made progress
in the Southern States, particularly in the Carolinas and
Georgia. It has acquired new friends in the interior of
Pennsylvania, and during the last winter, a church was
dedicated at Harrisburg.* Your Committee have received
intelligence from important places in these several States,
of a nature to excite gratitude and hope. The length
to which their Report is necessarily extended, prevents
more particularity of detail.
The Northwestern States of the Union offer animating
prospects. The progress of Unitarianism in that part of
the country, during the last ten years, has been remarka¬
ble. Under the preaching and example of the Christian
Connexion, the great truths of the gospel have been in-
* Since the annual meeting, a letter has been received from Rev.
Mr Kay, late of Northumberland, (Penn.) from which we learn that
he has accepted an invitation to take charge ol this new Society.
15
stilled into the minds of many thousands. Error has
been supplanted and irreligion has declined, wherever
these faithful disciples of the Master whose name alone
they consent to bear, have appeared. In most of their
doctrinal opinions they coincide with us. “ As to their
religious character, I was never,” says the agent who
has been already mentioned, “ among more practical
Christians in my life.” They have expressed both through
him and other means of communication, the sympathy
which they wish should be reciprocated on our part.
From gentlemen of respectability and wealth, resident in
the western country, who -are not members of the Chris
tian denomination, the Committee have received solicita¬
tions for tracts and preachers. Cincinnati and Marietta
in Ohio, St. Louis and St. Charles in Missouri, Louisville
in Kentucky, and Nashville in Tennessee, particularly
afford promise of success to laborers who are willing
to consecrate their powers to the cause of righteousness
in this portion of our land. In either of these cities and
probably in many others, a Unitarian society could be
gathered by a zealous teacher.
From the British and Foreign Unitarian Association,
we have received expressions of sympathy and the promise
of cooperation. Engaged in the same great cause, the
cause of liberty and truth, formed at the same period
and called to contend with many difficulties of similar
character, these two Associations should be united in inti¬
mate friendship. The prospects of Unitarianism abroad
correspond to the improvement of public opinion upon
other subjects. A greater concentration of the resources
of our brethren in England ; the change which has trans-
16
ferred the Monthly Repository from the hands of an indi¬
vidual to the care of a Society, who will still receive the
aid of that distinguished advocate of truth ; the growth of
a practical spirit; and the frequency of communication
between this country and Great Britain, from which we
anticipate improvement to ourselves, we regard as cir¬
cumstances favorable to the interests of Unitarian Chris¬
tianity in the land of our forefathers. On the continent
of Europe likewise, the simple gospel is preserved in warm
and faithful hearts. Geneva has sustained the noble
character which it acquired in the early days of the re¬
formation, and the city where Calvin taught with equal
zeal separation from the Romish Church and submission
to his own authority, has discarded the dogmas, that it
might imitate the independence of its great teacher. A
reply has been received from Mr. Adam of Calcutta, to a
letter addressed him in the name of the Association.
While, however, your Committee are desirous to maintain
a correspondence with their brethren in all parts of the
earth, they have not considered themselves at liberty to
enter on the sphere of usefulness undertaken by the So¬
ciety for promoting Christianity in India. A very partial
correspondence with foreign countries has been main¬
tained during the last year. It is hoped that circumstan¬
ces will enable the Committee of the next year, to perform
this service more satisfactorily.
The department of the Society’s operations, which
has been most diligently prosecuted, is the printing of
tracts. Yet, the Committee regret that they have been
unable to meet the demands of the public. The past
year has strengthened the conviction that the chief obsta¬
cle in the way of truth, is precisely that which this Asso-
17
ciation is intended to remove, the inadequacy of the
present means of religious knowledge. The disposition
to receive correct views of Christian faith, does not need
to be created. The desire for an enlightened, scriptural
and generous theology already exists. Multitudes are
ready to leave the paths of error, if some hand will offer
itself, to lead them into the right way. Prejudice and
bigotry are yielding place to a spirit of inquiry. The
demand for our tracts has been remarkable, as no extraor-
/
dinary efforts have been made to diffuse them, and even
the ordinary methods of introducing works into circula¬
tion have only of late been employed. The engagements
of the former agent in this city prevented such an atten¬
tion on his part,'to the business of the General Depository,
as was necessary to its full success ; and with the com¬
mencement of the present calendar year, the agency was
transferred to Messrs Bowles &, Dearborn, whose con¬
nexions as publishers and booksellers, enable them to
extend this branch of our operations wherever it may be
proper. The enterprise and attention of the present
agents recommend them to patronage, and the Executive
Committee are unanimous in expressing their hope, that
they will receive the encouragement they merit. Their
interest in the publishing department of the Christian
Examiner, the Reading Room which they propose to
connect with the bookstore and to furnish with religious
periodicals, and their correspondence with England, as
well as their situation as general agents of this Society,
suggest the advantages they possess as Unitarian book¬
sellers. Since the General Agency has been in their
hands twenty three new agents have been appointed,
2 *
% 0
18
mostly in New-England. Fifty two agencies are now
connected with the General Depository, and measures
have been taken to establish others, in New-York, Penn¬
sylvania and Ohio. The whole number of tracts printed
by the Association is sixty five thousand five hundred.
Several of these tracts are large, only one consists of
less than sixteen pages. Each of these tracts has passed
to a second, and most of them to a third edition. They
have taken the rank among Unitarian writings, to which
their merits entitle them, and the constant demand for
them, from persons in this vicinity and at a distance, will
probably render a republication of them all necessary in
the course of the next year. While your Committee have
perceived such a desire of instruction, they have been
pained that what they could do to gratify it was so inad¬
equate. The easy and wide distribution of our tracts,
the eagerness with which they are sought, and the proba¬
bility that they will have readers as long as our Associa¬
tion continues, recommend this mode of publication in
preference to any other. Tracts bearing our name, are
circulated through the country, and are read by more
persons, and in more distant places than such as are
offered without this pledge for their character. The
friend of Unitarian Christianity can find no more effec¬
tual way of inculcating correct principles, yet for want of
the assistance they had hoped and expected to receive,
the directors are compelled to disappoint themselves and
others, and to hear repeated calls for new tracts, which
they cannot answer.
The funds of the Association do not warrant a large
expenditure. The Treasurer’s account has exhibited the
19
receipts of the year, which, though not equal to the hopes
some may have formed from the interest awakened at
the last anniversary, have been perhaps, as great as could
be reasonably expected. A more generous encourage¬
ment might have enabled the Committee to prosecute
their objects to the extent which opportunity and inclina¬
tion recommended. The number of life subscribers is
fifty three, the amount of annual subscriptions nearly
§1000. Fifteen Auxiliary Associations have been organ¬
ized, and others are proposed. The Committee repeat
the suggestion made in the last report, that auxiliaries
are almost indispensable to our success. If we would
either have a full treasury, or put our tracts into general
circulation, branches of the parent society must be
formed. The amount of uncollected subscriptions is
§1418—all of which, and treble which might have been
received and expended, had these channels of intercourse
been opened. Among the expenditures of the past year,
will be found an appropriation of §100 to a Unitarian
Society in Augusta (Georgia,) who were desirous of
erecting a church for the worship of God the Father.
The circumstances of the case seemed to justify this do¬
nation, though it was for an object which it is deemed
less judicious to aid from the funds of this Association
than many others.
The hopes entertained of a permanent arrangement,
by which the Christian Register should be published
under the patronage of this Association, have been disap¬
pointed. The protracted sickness of the gentleman,
whose services were for a time enjoyed in the editorial
department, compelled his friends to resign the expec-
20
tation of his speedy recovery. They have still to lament
his confinement by painful disease. Having entered into
an obligation to provide an editor, for at least one year,
the Executive Committee continued their oversight of the
paper till last January, when they relinquished their con¬
tract, and they have since had no other interest in its
management than is felt by its other friends. The
release of the proprietor and editor from other cares will
enable him to give his entire attention to the paper, and
it is hoped that the encouragement due to his efforts
which has hitherto been inadequately rendered, will not be
withheld.—The Christian Examiner has been conducted
by the present editor, with an ability that deserves much
greater recompense than it has received. The patron¬
age of this work though considerable, is far below its
merits. The first Unitarian periodical in this country in
pretension and in character, and inferior to no other
work of the same nature, it should be liberally supported ;
and the Committee believe they are discharging their
duty, so far as it requires them to suggest means of reli¬
gious improvement, when they urge its claims on the
members of this Association.—Another publication to
which they would call the attention of Unitarians, will
soon be commenced in Keene, New-Hampshire. The
purpose of the editor, is to give in a monthly number,
sermons of living Unitarian preachers. The excellence
of the design, the reputation of the gentlemen who have
promised their assistance, and the character of the editor
induce the belief, that this will be an important instru¬
ment in diffusing truth.
Though it is not immediately connected with the ope-
i
21
rations of the Executive Committee, they cannot deny
themselves the privilege of calling the attention of this
meeting to another great instrument of good, the Theo¬
logical School at Cambridge. “ They who are acquainted
with its concerns, know that they are in a prosperous
state, and that the spirit of study, improvement and piety
prevails to a most commendable and gratifying extent.”
And your Committee adopt the sentiment of the directors
of the Institution, that “ it ought to be a favorite object
with our religious community.”
On a review of the interests confided to them, the Exe¬
cutive Committee can express a conviction, even stronger
than was felt on the last anniversary, that this Associa¬
tion was established at a propitious moment, and that if
it be properly conducted and supported, it may render
essential service to the cause of good morals, and en¬
lightened piety, of Christian truth, charity and love.
They are encouraged by the favor already shown to
their opinions, and still more by the prospects of their
extended influence. They think there is occasion for
gratitude and confidence, for diligence and activity.
They cheerfully trust their religion to the providence
and grace of God, believing, as they believe the divinity
of their sentiments, that they need only clear exposition,
faithful defence, and practical obedience to insure them
ultimate, if not speedy triumph. Let them be recom¬
mended by clear minds, warm hearts and holy lives,
and they will stand and prevail. The truth as it is in
Jesus, will be mighty and overcome all obstacles thrown
in its way from honest or corrupt motives, and the hour
be rolled on before another generation has covered the
22
face of the land, when the churches of our Lord shall be
filled with worshippers of one God, even the Father, who
sent his Son, to be the light and Saviour of mankind.
Soon after the annual meeting of last year, the cause
of truth and virtue sustained a painful loss, by the death
of Nathaniel A. Haven, Esq. of Portsmouth N. H. who
had been elected a Vice President of the Association.
Few have rendered themselves more dear to the lovers
of excellence, few have, in so short a life, connected
themselves so closely with the best interests of society,
and of few were such hopes of usefulness cherished.
He was removed by that Providence whose ways are
wisdom and love, though they are often covered with
darkness. He has left us an example of Christian zeal,
of benevolent activity, and of humble piety, which we
may rejoice that it is our privilege to hold in remem¬
brance.
After the report had been read and accepted, Rev. Mr
Gannett of Boston offered the following resolution, which
he supported by some remarks on the circumstances fa¬
vorable to immediate effort, on the inadequacy of the
present means of instruction, and on the incitements to
exertion which are furnished by the nature and impor¬
tance of truth, and the example of those who have pro¬
moted its diffusion. Before he sat down, he requested
Mr Thomas, who had travelled in the Western States
under the direction of the Executive Committee, to state
the impressions received on his journey. Mr Thomas
bore testimony to the wants of the country, the disposi¬
tion of the people to hear Unitarian preachers, and the
%
23
excellence of character, and the friendly feelings which he
found among the members of the Christian denomination.
He seconded the resolution offered.
Rev. Mr Colman of Salem, expressed his doubts con¬
cerning the necessity or utility of increased exertions to
educate candidates for the ministry ; and was followed by
Mr Saltonstall of Salem, and Mr L. Tappan, of Boston,
who replied to some points, both of reasoning and fact, in
Mr Colman’s remarks.—The resolution was then ac¬
cepted—viz.
Resolved , That the opportunities for the spread of
Unitarian truth, which are daily presenting themselves,
call for new exertions on the part of its friends? and a
great increase of the number of it3 teachers.
Rev. Mr Ware of Boston introduced the following res¬
olution, with a few remarks on its object. Dr Tuckerman
of Boston, by whom it was seconded, spoke of the expe¬
rience he had had in his mission, especially of the evi¬
dence afforded him in many instances, that Unitarian
Christianity is adequate to the spiritual wants of the
distressed, the sick, and the bereaved in the poorer classes
of society—The resolution was accepted—viz.
Resolved , That this Association regard with peculiar
interest, the establishment by the Executive Committee, of
a domestic mission in the city of Boston, and the encou¬
ragement it has received.
The next resolution was offered by Rev. Mr Palfrey of
Boston, who addressed the meeting at some length. He
spoke of the situation and character of the English Uni¬
tarians, and, while he lamented their political disabilities,
and the obloquy to which they had been subjected in this
24
country as well as in Great Britain, bore his decided tes¬
timony in their favor both as scholars and Christians.
He also gave a sketch of the condition in which he found
Unitarianism on the continent of Europe—in France,
Transylvania, and Holland, and particularly in Geneva,
where he visited to the place of Servetus’ death in com¬
pany with a Unitarian successor to Calvin in the theological
chair—a remarkable proof, he observed, of the efficacy
of creeds and fagots in preventing the progress of opin¬
ion. The resolution was supported by Mr Bond of Bos¬
ton, and was accepted—viz.
Resolved , That this Association reciprocate the ex¬
pressions of sympathy and regard they have received from
the British and Foreign Unitarian Association, and re¬
joice in the exertions of the friends of truth in England,
and on the continent of Europe.
Judge Story of Salem, in proposing the fourth resolu¬
tion noticed the lateness of the hour, which made him
unwilling to detain the meeting, though he felt the subject
to be one of great interest and importance. He ex¬
pressed many of his views, especially on the purpose of
the framers of our state constitution, and on the argu¬
ment furnished by law and usage, in regard to the clause
concerning the support of religion. In allusion to re¬
cent attempts to give this clause a novel construction, and
with reference to the great question of religious liberty,
he spoke with force and eloquence—and it was only re¬
gretted by those who heard him, that he could not in an
earlier part of the evening, have uttered his sentiments
with yet greater fulness. The resolution, seconded by
Rev. Mr Walker of Charlestown, was accepted—viz.
25
Resolved , That the present time particularly demands
the faithful services of the friends of religious liberty.
The following resolution was then offered by Judge
Story, was seconded and passed—viz.
Resolved , That the thanks of the Association be re¬
turned to the Executive Committee for their able and
interesting Report, and that they be requested to have it
printed and distributed as a tract.
It bein£ too late for the further transaction of business.
Rev. Mr Walker moved, That when this meeting adjourn,
it adjourn to meet in the Vestry of the Chauncy Place
Church at 8 o’clock tomorrow morning—this motion was
seconded and accepted.
Rev. Mr Ware proposed that before the meeting sepa¬
rate, the “ Dismission Hymn” be sung. The propo¬
sal w r as received with approbation ; and after singing, at
half past 10 o’clock, an adjournment was moved and
voted.
Wednesday, May 30.—The adjourned meeting was
held in Chauncy Place Vestry at 8 A. M. The first bu¬
siness w^as the choice of officers. Rev. Mr Young and
Mr G. F. Thayer were chosen to collect votes.
Rev. Aaron Bancroft, D. D. was unanimously re¬
elected President.
The following gentlemen who were elected last year,
and had signified their acceptance, were unanimously
rechosen Vice Presidents.
Hon. Joseph Story, Hon. Joseph Lyman,
Hon. Charles H. Atherton, Hon. Stephen Longfellow,
Henry Wheaton, Esq. Rev. James Taylor,
Henry Payson, Esq. Hon. William Cranch,
Martin L. Hurlbut, Esq. Hon. Samuel S. Wilde.
Hon. Samuel Hoar, Jr.
Rev. Henry Ware, Jr. Rev. James Walker, and
3
26
Rev. Samuel Barrett, were unanimously rechosen Di¬
rectors, and Rev. Ezra S. Gannett, Secretary.
It being stated that Lewis Tappan, Esq. declined a
reelection, it was
Voted, That thanks be returned to the late Treasurer
for his faithful and zealous services. v
*Samuel Dorr, Esq. was unanimously chosen Treasurer.
On motion of Rev. H. Ware, jr. it was
Voted, That two messengers be appointed by this As¬
sociation to meet the United States Christian Confer¬
ence which is to be held at West Bloomfield, N. Y. in
September next.
It was afterwards
Voted, That the appointment of these messengers be
made by the Executive Committee.
On motion of Mr Gideon F. Thayer, it was
Voted, That it is expedient that the Constitution be so
far amended,, as to add to the Executive Committee, a
Secretary of Foreign Correspondence.
(According to the 9th article of the Constitution this
subject will be considered at the next annual meeting,
when a definitive vote will be taken upon the proposed
amendment.)
On motion of Rev. H. Ware, jr. it was
Voted, That the Executive Committee be directed to
make arrangements, bv which the future meetings of the
Association for the transaction of business, may be held
at a more convenient hour.
As no other business remained for disposal, the meet¬
ing, on motion of Rev. Dr Ripley of Concord,
Adjourned sine die.
*Mr Dorr having declined this appointment, the Executive Com¬
mittee, according to the 8th article of the Constitution, elected
Henry Rice, Esq. who has accepted the office.
27
9
The Executive Committee of the American Unitarian
Association, as they send abroad their Second Annual
Report, would avail themselves of this opportunity of
, communicating with their friends, and offer one or two
suggestions, which they deem important. An in¬
stitution, whose purpose is to improve public opin¬
ion and feeling through the methods adopted by us,
is dependent on pecuniary patronage. Even if manu¬
scripts be provided, they cannot be printed without the
means of payment. The committee feel, at this time
particularly, the need of more prompt aid from those who
have encouraged them to prosecute their work. Their
treasury is nearly empty in consequence of the delay of
members in paying their annual subscription. In the
preceding Report it has been stated that nearly fifteen
hundred dollars are due from annual subscribers. The
immediate payment of this amount would give an effi¬
ciency to the operations of the committee, which they
cannot else have. The difficulty of collecting small sums,
scattered over the country on the one hand, and the in¬
convenience of transmitting them on the other, show the
advantage of auxiliary associations. These are almost
necessary to that activity and energy on which success
in our work as in every other depends. If only five or
six persons unite themselves for a particular object, they
become a centre of attraction to others, their own interest
is quickened, and they form a point of observation which
is kept distinctly in view by their friends at a distance.
The committee do therefore urge the formation of aux¬
iliaries. They would respectfully request every clergy¬
man who is disposed to aid their efforts, to invite indi¬
viduals of his parish to* consult on the measure, and to
28
adopt the course recommended in the remarks sub¬
joined to the last year’s Report, which are reprinted
in the appendix. In places destitute of a pastor, this
method might be adopted by any individual.
The necessity of early and regular communication
from the branches to the Parent Society, is obvious. The
existence of auxiliaries will not alone supply our wants.
They must contribute promptly, according to their
ability. The labor of collecting and transmitting the
annual subscriptions must, as has been suggested, lie on
the officers of the auxiliary associations, but this labor in
each case will be very light. It has been found conve¬
nient in some places to establish a depository for the
town or parish, under the care of an agent, who shall
transact all the financial concerns of the association and
be remunerated for any expense that he may incur. This
plan would probably be useful in every place.
A misunderstanding has prevailed of the privileges al¬
lowed to subscribers. The committee have never pledged
themselves to publish any number of tracts annually ;
they have expressed a hope, which they do not yet relin¬
quish, that they may print two every month. But this
will depend on the aid they receive from writers and
subscribers. They ask only for the means of gratifying
a demand which it pains them to leave unanswered.
They are anxious to be the almoners of others’ intellectual
bounty, and to return the pecuniary contributions of their
friends in the fruits of thought and experience. They
also hope that individual liberality will not be stinted by
a regard to personal compensation. The good we would
effect is not confined to the members of our association.
We wish to send tracts and missionaries to those who
are willing to read and hear, that they may be convinced
29
and be persuaded to cooperate with us. If a member
pay one dollar, and receive tracts to this value, he con¬
tributes nothing to the diffusion of correct sentiments.
The committee trust in the good sense, and generosity
of the friends of this institution, who must perceive the
injustice of demanding more than can, under present cir¬
cumstances, be granted or accomplished, and who will
also see that a favorable change in these circumstances
depends not solely on the directors. It cannot be expected
that tracts shall be furnished in anticipation of all receipts,
or that the committee should make themselves responsi¬
ble to an indefinite extent. In consequence of some in¬
quiries founded on mistake, the following vote was passed
and published in the Christian Register of September
23, 1826.
“ Resolved, that every member of the Association is
entitled to one copy of every tract, published by the As¬
sociation during the year for which his subscription is
entered.”
In compliance with the above vote members may al¬
ways obtain their tracts by personal application, but the
committee would not be justified in defraying the expense
of distribution. Wherever a local depository is establish¬
ed, the tracts will be regularly sent by the general agents,
if desired, at the expense of the auxiliary. Individual
subscribers may receive theirs from the nearest deposi¬
tory.
The committee cherish the hope, that before another
anniversary they shall number many new branches and
many more life members. A laudable example has been
set by ladies and by societies ; may it be generally followed.
Our Association, is established and its existence widely
known. The doubts entertained by some of its practi-
3 *
cability have been met by a successful experiment, the
name which it assumed has been raised into favor, its
operations are now contemplated with interest by the
religious public, it only needs support. This is earnest¬
ly sought, and confidently expected.
The accumulation of materials for a history of Unita-
rianism and of religious opinions in this country, is an
object worthy of encouragement. No depository of facts
and documents illustrating this subject is more suitable
than the bureau of this American Association. A com¬
mencement has been made of such a collection, and the Ex¬
ecutive Committee solicit books, pamphlets, manuscripts,
or papers of any kind which their friends will place in
their care. Individuals will afford them aid by furnishing
narratives of former years, or information of events of
which they have had personal knowledge. Works in vin¬
dication of Unitarian Christianity will be.received, and
employed to form a library always open to the members
of the Association.
APPENDIX
EXTRACTS FROM THE FIRST ANNUAL REPORT.
“ This Association was organized under some disad¬
vantages. Its plan was suggested by a few gentlemen
on the evening preceding the last election, at too late an
hour to secure the advice and cooperation of many of
those whose judgment would be useful in forming, and
whose influence would be important in strengthening
such a society. The time for a more general and effec¬
tive concert seemed, however, to have arrived ; and the
presence of Unitarians from distant towns, who an¬
nually assemble in this city, showed the necessity of an
immediate effort for the accomplishment of this object.
It would have been impossible to ascertain in a few
hours the sentiments of the great body of Unitarian
Christians, in relation to the measures, which they
should adopt for the diffusion of pure religion. From
these circumstances, the meeting at which the project
of this Association was discussed, and its constitution
adopted, was necessarily small. Notice could only be
given at the close of the Berry Street Conference on
Wednesday morning, that such a meeting would be held
in the afternoon. At that meeting, it was unanimously
voted, that it is expedient to form a society to be called
the American Unitarian Association. At an adjourned
meeting, held the next morning, a constitution, reported
by a committee appointed for the purpose, was accepted,
and the officers required by the constitution were elected.
This brief statement will explain the fact, that the exist¬
ence of this society was unknown to most Unitarians in
this city and commonwealth, until some weeks after its
organization ; and will also show under what doubtful
prospects of support it was commenced.”
“ The Committee have been gratified by the sympathy
32
expressed for them in the prosecution of their duties by
Unitarians near and at a distance. They have been fa¬
vored with letters from Maine, New Hampshire, Ver¬
mont, Connecticut, Rhode Island, from all sections of
this state, from the city of New York, and from the
western part of the state of New York, from Philadelphia,
Harrisbuig, Northumberland, Pittsburg, and Meadville,
in Pennsylvania, from Maryland, from the District of
Columbia, from South Carolina, from Kentucky, and
from Indiana. In all these letters the same interest is
exhibited in the efforts which the Association promises
to make for the diffusion of pure Christianity. Many of
them have contained interesting accounts of the state of
religion in different places, and especially correspondents
have furnished the Committee with ample details re¬
specting the history and condition-of Unitarians in Penn¬
sylvania. If similar accounts could be obtained from all
the states of the Union, they would embody an amount of
knowledge, that is now much wanted. And the Com¬
mittee avail themselves of this opportunity to remind
Unitarians, that they will render a service to the cause of
truth by communicating facts connected with the progress
and present state of Unitarian Christianity.”
“ While the Committee congratulate the officers and
members of the Association on the degree of favor, which
has been shown to it, they mean not to deny that objec¬
tions have been started, and that some have been reluc¬
tant to add their names to the list of its supporters.
They have labored to show the futility of these objections,
and to dissipate the fears expressed by good men, and
decided Unitarians, that the new Society might be a
source of evil rather than of good, of division rather than
of harmony. They have strenuously opposed the opinion,
that the object of its founders was to build up a party, to
organize an opposition, to perpetuate pride and bigotry.
Had they believed that such was its purpose, or such
would be its effect, they would have withdrawn themselves
from any connexion with so hateful a thing. They
thought otherwise, and experience has proved that they
did not judge wrongly. They have witnessed an in-
33
creased zeal for pure and undefiled religion, the religion
not of this man nor that party, but of Jesus Christ, our
Master and Redeemer, brought into action, if it were
not inspired, by the influence of this Association. They
have heard words of congratulation, but none of bitter-
ness; and they devoutly believe, that this Society is
meant in the providence of God to be instrumental in
diffusing the truths and the spirit of that gospel, for
which his Son was sent, for which he toiled and suffered,
and to establish which he poured out his blood. In the
words of the Circular, which they have already quoted,
“ they care not for adding to the number of those, who'
merely call themselves Unitarians; but their object is to
increase the number of those, who are Christians from
examination and conviction ; the number of consistent
believers, whose lives comport with their principles; the
number of those, who feel the influence and power of the
precepts of Jesus Christ.’ In this cause, the cause of
man’s highest interest, the cause of universal love, they
believe this Association is willing to employ ail its ener¬
gies and resources; and commending it to the favor of
our Father in heaven, for whose glory they humbly trust
it was established, they feel a confidence, which much
disappointment alone can destroy, that it will be a bless¬
ing to future generations. It will, they hope, scatter the
seeds of spiritual knowledge, which shall spring up in
usefulness on earth, and shall yield a harvest of ever¬
lasting glory.”
The following remarks were appended to the First
Report.
“ It will have been seen by the reader, that it was
recommended at the annual meeting, 4 that as far as
practicable, auxiliaries be formed to the Association in
every Unitarian congregation.’ The Executive Com¬
mittee have prepared some articles of association for such
auxiliaries, which are annexed. They merely propose
such a Constitution, as a convenient bond of union, and
as calculated to give simplicity and uniformity, if it
should be generally adopted, to the arrangements of the
Association. According to the plan here offered, the
auxiliaries are composed of subscribers to the General
Association, which is thought by the Committee prefera¬
ble to the usual method of belonging to the parent insti¬
tution only indirectly, and in consequence of a connexion
with the auxiliary. It is proper however to state, for
those who may adopt the latter course, that by a vote of
the Executive Committee, passed some months since, no
association can be acknowledged as auxiliary, to which
. the terms of subscription are less than those lixed in the
Constitution of the General Association. The propriety
of this rule must be obvious to any one, especially if
another vote of the Committee be considered, by which
every member is entitled to a copy of every tract pub¬
lished by the Association. Tracts are also sold to agents
and to auxiliary associations, at a large discount. To
these two votes the 4th article of the annexed Constitu¬
tion refers. The purpose of these auxiliary associations
is two fold. They will be a means of increasing and
perpetuating the interest felt in the American Unitarian
Association, and will present the most effectual method
of securing for it friends, funds and intelligence, from
every part of the country. With this \iew it is required
that an annual report be made from each branch to the
parent society, the directors of which will thus be made
acquainted with the religious condition of different sec¬
tions, and be enabled to issue such publications, and
make such appropriations, as shall best accomplish the
ends of the Association. It is therefore hoped, that the
annual reports of the auxiliaries will contain such state¬
ments, as may assist the Executive Committee in their
duties. The chief good, however, expected from such
associations, is the increase of social and practical reli¬
gion among their members. The frequent meeting of
those, who shall assemble for religious purposes, to advise
and assist one another in the support of religious chari¬
ties, it is thought, must be favorable to personal charac¬
ter, and must increase that sympathy and cooperation,
which are among the chief objects of the Unitarian As¬
sociation,’’
35
We, the Subscribers, desirous to aid the operations of
the American Unitarian Association, do hereby associate
ourselves for that purpose, and agree to the following
articles by way of
CONSTITUTION.
1. This Association shall be “ The Association
of Auxiliary to the American Unitarian
Association.”
2. The objects of this Association shall be, in genera],
those of the American Unitarian Association, namely,
“ to diffuse the knowledge and promote the interests of
pure Christianity.”
3. This Association shall be composed of members of
the American Unitarian Association ; i. e, of persons who
have each contributed $30 as a life subscription, or who
pay at least $1 a year, to that Association.
4. A depository for tracts shall be appointed by this
Association, at which each member, besides receiving
gratis one copy of all the tracts of the American Unita¬
rian Association, shall be allowed to purchase any num¬
ber of them for distribution, at per cent discount.
5. The business of this Association shall be conducted
by an agent, or by a committee, consisting of mem¬
bers, who shall superintend the depository, correspond
with the executive committee of the General Association,
pay over to the Treasurer thereof the monies due, and
make to the Secretary a yearly report of its doings.
SUBSCRIBERS* NAMES. | LIFE SUB.
ANN. SUB,
36
In the First Annual Report it was stated that a meet¬
ing of gentlemen friendly to the Association was held in
Boston in April, 1826. At that meeting a committee
was appointed to prepare a circular, from which the fol¬
lowing extracts are taken.
“ The want of union among Christians of our denom-
o
ination, is felt to be a great evil by those, who have di¬
rected their attention to this subject. Living in an age
of unusual religious excitement, surrounded by numerous
sects, ail of which are zealously employed in dissemina¬
ting their peculiar tenets, we should be wanting in duty
to ourselves, and be doing injustice to the doctrines we
profess, if we should allow them to fail in exercising their
due influence, for the want of a corresponding zeal and
interest. Unitarians are often charged with lukewarm¬
ness and indifference to the cause of religion. We will
not undertake to say how far this charge is well founded;
but we will say that much of it is rather apparent than
real, and is owing to a want of concert among ourselves.
Our exertions have not been apparent, because insula¬
ted ; and the contributions of many of our friends have
been thrown into the treasuries of other denominations
of Christians, from the want of some proper objects
among ourselves, upon which they could be bestow T ed.
We feel confident, that there are among us men*of zeal
and energy, who are both willing and able to exert
themselves in the cause of religion ; and that others, who
are now indifferent to the subject, might by sympathy
and encouragement be excited to similar exertions.”
“ The great end of this Association is the promotion
of pure morals and practical piety. We value our doc¬
trines only so far as they evidently are the revelation of
the will and character of God, and so far as they tend to
improve the religious, moral, and intellectual condition
of mankind. Believing that from their simple, sublime,
and elevating character, they are peculiarly adapted to
the wants of all conditions of mankind, to the ignorant
and simple, as well as the learned and gifted ; believing
too, that they are more eminently calculated than any
other views of Christianity to warm the heart, to interest,
elevate and purify the feelings, and to develope all the
faculties of the mind, we are desirous that they be known
and understood and felt by every individual in our com¬
munity.”
“ Whilst the friends of this institution would endeavor
to establish correct principles and awaken a deep reli¬
gious feeling in our own churches and community; they
would also diffuse abroad the knowledge and influence of
the gospel of our Lord and Saviour. For this end, it is
their intention, so far as their funds will admit of it, to
assist destitute churches in the support ofpublic worship,
and to send missionaries to those parts of our country,
where they may be particularly wanted. This is a sub¬
ject, in relation to which serious and reflecting minds
cannot doubt that there are solemn and important duties
to perform. If we regard the gospel as a blessing, if we
have imbibed any of its spirit, if we have felt any of that
charity, which forms so essential a feature in the chris-
- tian character ; that charity, which confines itself to no
limits, but which is as boundless as the universe, which,
beginning at home, extends itself to all conditions of men,
to all orders of moral beings ; that charity, which limits
itself not to the relief of temporal wants and sufferings,
and the promotion of temporal happiness, but extending
itself beyond this world, points out the only way and
means which lead to eternal peace and happiness and
joy ; if we have imbibed this spirit, and, at the same time
feel, that the gospel is the richest, the most invaluable
blessing, which God has bestowed on us, then there can^,
be no question as to our duty.
Ci Moreover, if we are convinced, that God has shed
new light into our minds, in relation to his will and char¬
acter, we are bound in gratitude to Him to exert our¬
selves in its diffusion. Let it not be said, that if the
doctrines we profess are correct, they will certainly pre¬
vail, and that they need no assistance from us. Truth v
indeed, is mighty, for it nerves the mind, gives to it con¬
fidence, energy and power, and animates it to great and
unwearied exertions. But God operates through second
4
3S
causes, and having sent our religion into the world, he
left it to man to support and disseminate it. It was in¬
troduced into the world, and has been sustained and
transmitted to the present generation, through much
labor and persecution and suffering. But the great work
is not yet completed, much remains to be done by us.
Let it not be said of us, that we are unworthy of the
blessings we have received; but possessing the means
and opportunities of doing much towards this cause, let
us so use them, that we shall finally be able to render a
good account.’'
The auxiliary Unitarian Association of Philadelphia
have printed a small tract, containing their constitution
wiui some valuable introductory remarks, from which the
following extracts are taken.
“ It is no wonder that associations of men for the
maintenance of particular religious views should be re¬
garded with distrust, when it is considered what an un¬
due influence they have oftentimes exerted, and how
directly they have aided in retarding the progress of free
inquiry. Enormous as the abuses of associations have
eeen, the very existence of abuses intimates that this
mode of operation (by means of association) is capable
of a lawful and important use, and may be employed with
great power in the cause of truth. We thus judge. If
men, by forming themselves into societies for the support
W. certain doctrines, have succeeded in effecting their
object, surely by the same means the great doctrine of
religious freedom may be advanced. Now let it be re¬
membered that to establish this doctrine more firmly in
the world is one of the principal objects of our Associa¬
tion, acknowledged in every other doctrine and opinion
which we may labor to extend. It is our aim to diffuse
a rationed faith ; and as w T e can have no idea of such a
faith that does not involve the exercise of private judg¬
ment—the liberty of thought, we feel that v T e cannot in-
39
fringe the sacred freedom of the mind without defeating
the main object for which we are associated.
“ Every thing conspires to impress us with the vast
importance of diffusing more liberal views of Christian
truth. The erroneous systems of religion which are
prevalent, their effects upon private happiness, the dis¬
honorable ideas which they help to cherish of the divine
character and government, the obstructions that •’they
throw in the way of religious liberty and free inquiry, the
utter rejection of Christianity by intelligent men which
they have produced and are still producing; while, on
the other hand, the immense value to human virtue of
correct notions of God and duty, the peace of mind which
they establish, the cheerful light which they throw over
our existence both present and future, and above all,
their inseparable union with the cause of the most per¬
fect religious freedom; all these things impose upon us a
weight of obligation that cannot well be estimated Add
to this our peculiar situation as the inhabitants of a land
advancing in unexampled prosperity, and consequently
in a state of great moral danger, depending for the very
existence of its present happy form of society upon the
strictest and most uniform observance of the great prin¬
ciples of morality and religion ; we can have no plainer
duty before us than that of doing all that in us lies for the
diffusion of those views which we deem the most condu¬
cive to the best welfare of our fellow men.
“ In our circumstances a deficiency of earnest Christian
zeal would furnish some ground for an inference either
against our cause, or against those engaged in it; either
the system is defective, or we do not understand and ap¬
preciate it. But God forbid that we should have em¬
braced views which render us indifferent to the most
solemn subjects, and careless of contributing our efforts
to the advancement of human happiness. If the fault is
in ourselves, then we would repair our error, and dis¬
pense with 4 the poor and beggarly ’ principles of a
worldly wisdom, such as measuring ourselves by others
and being satisfied with ourselves because we do as
well as our fellows, and resort to the elevated standard of
Christian duty, and try to bring our characters and our
40
efforts up to its requisitions. We would set ourselves
seriously at work to become more thoroughly acquainted
with the views we profess to hold, and then our feeling in
behalf of their diffusion will become more distinct and
vivid. At the same time we would embrace every oppor¬
tunity of extending a knowledge of our faith.”
MW.
FIRST QUARTERLY REPORT *
OF THE
BOSTON MISSIONARY.
To the Executive Committee of the
American Unitarian Association.
Gentlemen,
I entered upon the duties of the mission, among
the poor of this city, to which you appointed me, on the
5th of last November; and I have thought it to be pro¬
per, in this service, not to visit in any family, which is
visited by any settled minister of the city as a part of his
flock.
Within the last three months, I have taken fifty fami¬
lies into my pastoral charge. A few of them have lived
in the city but &ix, or twelve months. Some, however,
who have been here many years, and others who were
born in the city, are kept from connexion with our reli¬
gious societies by their poverty. They cannot afford to
hire seats in our churches. Some, too, by the frequency
of their removals, are now in the neighborhood of one,
and now of another, of the churches in the city, on whose
services they occasionally attend. The intellectual, mo¬
ral, and religious character of some whom I visit, is very
highly respectable. But the exposures of great poverty
are very affecting. The rooms in which the poor live
* One edition of this Report has been printed, but as its circulation
was confined to Boston, and the whole edition is distributed, the
Executive Committee have directed its repuhlication.
41
are often as cold and cheerless as can well be imagined ;
and the difficulty of obtaining clothes and food sufficient
for their comfort is very great. The fire-places of these
rooms are so deep, that a large quantity of fuel is required
to procure even a little warmth ; and with all the aid which
is obtained from the city, from our charitable societies,
from benevolent individuals, and from the streets, much,
very much is endured in such a winter as the present.
Nor is it as easy as some think it to be, for all to find
employment, by which they may earn enough for a com¬
fortable subsistence. Hence, too often, come intemper¬
ance and dishonesty.
My attention has constantly been directed to the chil¬
dren of the families in which I visit; and I have done
what I could to persuade parents faithfully to keep their
children at school. Through the kindness of friends
who have supplied my poors’ purse, I have enabled pa¬
rents to send a considerable number of children to school,
who were kept at home by the want of shoes, or a shawl.
Of the result of my mission, I am not prepared to say
much at present. I have cause, however, I think, to be¬
lieve that no preceding three months of my life have been
passed more usefully. I am received with great kindness
and affection in the families in which I visit; and, great
as are the vice and suffering which I have sometimes
been called to witness, I have also found encouragements
and compensations in this service, which will be among
the happiest recollections of my life.
On the second day of my mission, I visited a widow,
who was passing rapidly to the grave in consumption ;
and I ministered to her till the 27th ultimo, on which day
she died. She was thirty-five years of age, and had three
children. I particularize her, only because I have the
pleasure to tell you, that neither in my reading, nor in my
ministry of twenty-five years, have I met with a more im¬
pressive example of the power, which the simplest princi¬
ples of our religion, when they have full possession of the
heart, may exert in forming a perfectly Christian charac¬
ter. Her daily sufferings were very great. But the ruling
principle in her soul was, love to God . This was the
4*
I
42
source of all her immediate comfort, and of all her hope
as a disciple of Christ. “ O Sir,” she had repeatedly said
to me, “ I would not exchange my sick bed, with the love
of God which I feel in my heart, for ten thousand
worlds.*’ “ I can glorify God in my greatest sufferings,
for my love of him triumphs over all my distresses. 5 ’
“ Adversity,” she said, “ is better than prosperity. I
once lived without God ; but I have passed through many
scenes of trouble, and in trouble I learned to know and to
love God. The hardest trial to which I have been called
has been, to give up my children. But now that I have
given them up to God, I look upon them without a feel¬
ing of anxiety.” Such, indeed, were her conceptions of
God’s government, and of the purposes of suffering ; such
her love of God, and her desire to possess and to maintain
the spirit of Christ, that she refused opiates by which her
sufferings might have been alleviated ; preferring to en¬
dure distress, rather than have her mind in the smallest
degree enfeebled in its exercises, or checked in its aspi¬
rations after a nearer acquaintance with Him, who was
the rock of her confidence, and the fountain to her heart
of unutterable blessedness. In all my visits to this poor,
but intelligent, most amiable and pious woman, I never
heard from her any of the technical language of a secta¬
rian. We were soon friends; and I shall never forget
the emotion with which, a short time before she expired,
she said, “ I bless God, who has sent you to me, to en¬
lighten my way through the dark valley of the shadow of
death.” If no other circumstance to cheer and strengthen
me should occur in the year of service on which I have
entered, than the privilege of ministering to this poor
widow, I shall be well compensated for all the toils to
which it may call me.
I may tell you, likewise, that on the 27th of Novem¬
ber, I was called to visit a man who was confined to his
bed by a fever. I was pleased with the neatness and or¬
der which appeared in his family. But this man had
thought little of religion, and had lived without prayer.
Before he left his sick bed, I have reason to think that he
offered the prayer of penitence, of gratitude, and of hope ;
and, since his recovery, he has uniformly read prayers in
43
his family, morning and evening. I have the assurance
of this man, and of his wife, that they will faithfully
maintain this practice.
On sabbath evening, the 3d of December, by the as¬
sistance which I received from an association of private
Christians, with which I am connected in the city, I was
enabled to begin a course of religious services in the up¬
per chamber of the circular building at the bottom of
Portland-street. These services have been continued
from that time to the present ; and as a lease of the room
is taken for a year, I shall probably continue to preach
there on the evenings of the sabbath. In these services,
which are very well attended, I have the aid of several of
the gentlemen of the above named association. A Sun¬
day School was begun in my lecture room on the 10th
of December ; and the children of many families which I
visit, as well as of other families, are very faithfully taught
there.
I have occasionally preached both to the men, and to
the women, in the House of Correction. On the 27th of
December, I visited Colson, who was executed on the
1st instant for piracy and murder. From the time of
my first visit, I was in the cell with him every day ; and
this too is a part of my service, for which I think that I
have much cause to bless God. I found this man terribly
profane and wicked. But I soon found that he had not
lost every element of moral feeling. After the visits of a
few days, I observed that he fell upon his knees when I
was about to pray with him. Some time after this, he
began to respond the amen at the close of our prayers.
And at last, such was the strength of his emotions, that
while I was praying with him, he has broken out in an
importunity of supplication, the most heart-rending which
I have ever heard from the lips of man. In addition to
my daily visits to his cell, I passed with him the evening
previous to his death; and I was with him on the next
morning, till a few minutes before the time when he was
led out to be executed. I had said and done all that I
could say or do, to affect, and to direct his mind ; and
feeling, as I did, that my duty towards him w T as done, I
left him. He died, as I am told, in the manner in which
44
I hoped that he would die ; with the prayer in his heart,
and upon his lips, God be merciful to me a sinner !
You ask me, how much time and exertion my services
require ? I answer, that I give to them all my time, and
all my strength. Most of those whom I now visit live at
the north part of the town. But I also visit families in
the eastern, western, and southern sections of the city;
and not a week passes, in which I am not extending my
charge. Two more missionaries, within three months,
might find duty enough to fill up every waking hour.
It may not be amiss to add, that I have numbered two
hundred and eighty three visits made to the people of
my charge. Besides these, however, I have been into
many families, of whom I learned that they regularly
worship with some one of our religious societies, and
whom, therefore, I visited no more. Nor do I include in
this number of visits, those which I made to Colson in
prison; nor those which I have made in the house of
correction.
With great respect,
JOSEPH TUCKERMAN.
Boston , February 5th , 1827.
c a—saa—g rsa rsn
SECOND quarterly report *
OF THE
BOSTON MISSIONARY.
To the Executive Committee of the
American Unitarian Association.
Gentlemen,
Within the past six months I have been connected,
as a Christian minister, with more than a hundred fami-
* This Report has not before been printed.
45
lies. Some of these families have been broken up, arid
others have removed where I have not been able to find
them. But I have still more than ninety in my charge ;
and, within the last three months, I have made a little
over five hundred visits.
You will readily believe, that it would be very easy to
give you a long report of what I have seen and heard in
these visits, and a long detail of what I have said, and
hoped, and feared. Should I ever find time to write upon
these subjects, I may perhaps bring them in some form,
before the public. But general statements are all that
you will expect from me.
Among the families which I visit as their pastor, there
are some which not only are not poor, but whose circum¬
stances, in respect to property, are very comfortable ; and
I have great pleasure in telling you, that they cooperate
with me, as they have opportunity, in my plans and efforts
for the relief and improvement of the poor. I am con¬
nected with some families of this class, which- would be
a blessing to any community.
Another class of those whom I visit consists of fami¬
lies, which, from various causes, have not been able to
accumulate property. There are widows, and there are
some husbands, who can provide for their families, and
who maintain order, and find happiness, in their families,
while they all have health, and while they can find regu*
lar employment, {lut in a long failure of the employment
on which they depend for their support, or in a long sick¬
ness, the little that was laid up is exhausted; and, if
they are not relieved by private bounty, they must incur
debts, which weigh down the spirits, and produce feelings
of discouragement and misery, for relief from which they
resort to intemperance . I have cause to believe that,
through the kindness of those who have supplied my
poors’ purse, I have been enabled to do important good
among this class of my new friends, by administering to
their relief in the time when relief was most wanted.
And I am sure that this is a charity, on which, if they
witness it, angels may smile with heavenly complacency.
I think that I have witnessed aspirations of as pure a grati®
tude, for a small bestowment, which, however, at the time
46
was greatly wanted, as often ascends to heaven. Even a
little which is so given, by saving him or her who re¬
ceives it from the discouragements of debt, may save them
also from intemperance, from pauperism, and from ruin.
I have much wished to do something for the recovery
of the intemperate. But I have been still more solicitous
to do what may be done, to save those from intemper¬
ance, who are constantly exposed to it; and of whom
indeed we may well marvel, if they become not its vic¬
tims. I wish always to act upon the principle, that hu¬
man nature is never to be given up; that there is no
condition of the vicious so desperate, as to forbid efforts
for their recovery. I have therefore no sympathy with
those who say to us, “ let the confirmed drunkard perish.’ 5
While he lives, he is not without the pale of God’s mercy,
for it is this mercy that sustains him, even while he so
wickedly abuses it. But I believe that very much may
be done by frequent intercourse, by faithful conversation,
and by well selected tracts, to restrain from this deso¬
lating sin. In this department, of my service, I have
reason to hope that I have not altogether labored in vain.
I visit in a few very vicious, and very corrupted fami¬
lies. Whether I am thus doing any immediate good, is
indeed very doubtful. But the time of sickness, or of
some other great affliction, may come to them, when they
may be in a condition to receive impressions, of w T hich
they are now unsusceptible; and I shall be well repaid
for the sacrifices that are required in maintaining an ac¬
quaintance with them, if I may then be an instrument of
bringing them to repentance and,to God.
I have spoken of the frequency of the removals of some
whom I visit. There are families which, I believe, are
never more than a few months in a place. They are com¬
pelled to remove by inability to pay their rent; and, to es¬
cape from the little debts w T hich they have contracted in the
neighborhood in which, for a short time, they have been
located. They go to no church ; and they are known by'no
minister, unless indeed a missionary steps in to visit them.
And yet these are not always very vicious families. The
husband of this class, or the widowed mother, or the
mother who is forsaken by her husband, is thriftless,
47
inefficient, and not entirely temperate; but yet not con¬
firmed in any of the grosser vices. Here, then, I think
the service of a missionary to be greatly useful. He
does what he can to animate and encourage these parents
to better efforts than they have yet made for themselves,
and their families. He takes care that their children
are kept at school. He gives to them in his conversation,
and in the tracts which he leaves with them, all the reli¬
gious instruction they receive. Without his care, they
would be beyond the reach of any of the direct influen¬
ces of our religion.
Let me say a word of the moral exposures of the poor,
for they are indeed hardly to be conceived but by those
who are intimately acquainted with the poor. We must
go into the rooms in which they live, and see how they
live, and what they suffer there, to feel as we should feel
for them, and to realize the extent and the strength of
their claims upon us. Take the case of a mother, whose
intemperate husband is daily spending his small earnings
to obtain the rum which he drinks daily ; who is herself
working like a slave, when she can get work, to procure
bread for her children ; whose ragged children are not
only every day so treated by their father, that they lose,
as far as children can lose, all affection for him, but who
are at once the daily witnesses of his profaneness and
degradation, and who are even daily encouraged by him
to disobey their mother ; I say, what are you to look for
m these children, but that they will be as vicious and
debased as their father 1 I can take you from house to
house into families of this description. Or, suppose the
case of an intemperate mother, or where both parents are
intemperate. Rum is here the chief ingredient of break¬
fast, of dinner, and of supper. Is it wonderful, then,
that there should be not a few among us, who are drunk¬
ards at the age of 14 or 15 years ? Or, does it excite any
surprise, that children who are reared under such influ¬
ences, will not go to school ? At 9 or 10 years of age
they are wholly beyond parental control. Their home is
in the streets; and they go to the habitations of their
parents, only to obtain a supply of the wants which they
cannot supply elsewhere. It is a matter of course,there¬
fore, that they should not only be intemperate, but pro¬
fane, deceitful and dishonest. No plan could be devised
for their moral ruin, more certain in its results, than the
very manner in which they are now living. Will any
one say, that this is a necessary evil ? I cannot think so.
The obligation is most solemn upon those to whom
God has given the means of rescuing these young im¬
mortals from perdition, to attempt at least what may be
attempted for their rescue. These children are now in
a regular course of training for the House of Correction,
and for the State Prison. My heart has ached to see a
mother, and to hear her sobs of anguish, at the House of
Correction, while she was visiting her son there, who was
only 14 years old ; and to see this boy, after weeping
for a few moments with his agonized mother, return to
be a companion of convicts, with five or six of whom he
must be shut up at night in a cell, where he may learn
more of the mysteries of iniquity in eight nights, than
he would acquire in as many years by his own unaided
experience. Government has a right to employ any
means that are requisite for the prevention of so great an
evil; and a power should be delegated to men who will
faithfully exercise it, of taking children who are so ex¬
posed from the condition in which they now are, and of
placing them, as far as may be, beyond the reach of the
temptations, which otherwise will inevitably prove their
destruction. I am aware that the difficulties of the case
are great. But they are not insuperable.—I suggest the
subject, only because I wish that attention may be di¬
rected to it.
For some weeks past, either on Thursday or Saturday
afternoon, I have met the children who live in the neigh¬
borhood of my Lecture Room, to pass an hour there.
The time so passed we call the pleasant hour . It is
opened and closed with a very short prayer, and religious
instruction is one of the objects of the meeting. But
this instruction is given rather incidentally, than directly.
I give them familiar lectures upon subjects of natural
49
history ; and I begin each exercise by questions respect¬
ing the preceding lecture. The service is popular among
the children ; and 1 hope that it will be a means of excit¬
ing in them a thirst of knowledge, a taste at once for
intellectual and moral gratification, and an early rever¬
ence and love of Him, of whose wisdom and goodness I
am thus enabled to furnish them with so many testimo¬
nies in his works.
The Sunday evening services of the Lecture Room
are continued, and the room is uniformly well fdled with
attentive hearers. I wish that it were possible to obtain a
permanent free lecture room in the section of the city in
which 1 now officiate on Sunday evenings. This might
be done at a small cost, compared with the good that
might be looked for from it. Our present room is not
large enough to accommodate all who are disposed to
unite with us. Besides, some aged people find it difficult,
in the evening, to ascend two flights of stairs. If we
could obtain a cheap building as a permanent place of
worship, I think that it would not be difficult to obtain
a supply of the pulpit half of each Sunday, as w r ell as for
the evening service. Is there no one among us who is at
once able, and who so loves the poor, that he is willing to
build for them a synagogue ?
Very respectfully,
JOSEPH TUCKERMAN.
Boston, May 5, 1827.
MISSION OF INQUIRY TO THE WESTERN STATES.
On pages 8 and 9 (of the Report) mention is made of
Mr Thomas’journey to the Western States. During his
absence it was his custom to write letters in the form of a
journal, which were at different times sent to the Secre¬
tary, and since his return he has prepared an abstract of
the intelligence collected by him on his tour. From
these papers the following extracts are made, with the
design of showing his route, and the opportunities which
he enjoyed for accomplishing the objects of his mission,
5
50
and also of communicating to the members of the Associ¬
ation such information obtained by him as may be gene¬
rally interesting; many personal details and remarks are
omitted, as they were not intended for publication. Most
of the extracts now given have already been printed in
the Christian Register, but it seems proper to offer here
a general view of Mr Thomas’labors. This is all which
is attempted in the following abridgment of his journals.
Mr Thomas left Boston April 10, 1826, and proceeded
by way of Providence to New r York and Philadelphia.
These places are too well known to need any notice.
From Philadelphia he took the stage coach to Harrisburg,
the seat of government of Pennsylvania, where he found
the Unitarians exerting themselves to build a church,
which they have since completed. He says, “ the present
members of the society are very zealous, and their opin¬
ions are spreading as rapidly as could be expected. It is
an important and flourishing place.” He next visited
Northumberland, where he was cordially received by
Rev. Mr Kay, of whom he thus speaks :
l< I know of nothing but pure zeal, and the grave of
Priestley, that can induce him to remain here, for he has
talents that would support him handsomely in New-Eng-
land. 1 have spent much time in the family of Mr Bel¬
las of Sunbury, about two miles from N. He has given
you so particular an account of the religious affairs of
this place and its vicinity, that I shall only add a descrip¬
tion of the meeting houses in Northumberland. Of
these there are three; those of the Methodists and Pres¬
byterians are one story wooden buildings, not painted,
and I should judge 16 by 18 feet. The Unitarian church
is a two story brick building, 25 or 30 feet square.”
Mr Thomas pursued his journey to Pittsburg, where he
was detained by sickness, in the family of Mr Swartz-
welder, the minister of the small Unitarian society of
that place. From Pittsburg (Penn.) he writes:
“ Of the eastern and middle parts of this State your cor¬
respondents have given you more information than I can.
Since my arrival here I have made many inquiries con¬
cerning the religious and moral condition of the part of
51
the State west of the mountains. I find from Mr Swartz-
welder, who is well acquainted with this part of the State,
having travelled eleven years as an itinerant Methodist,
and who is now excommunicated for his Unitarian views,
that there is much more attention paid to religion than
in the middle and eastern counties. The principal de¬
nominations this side of the mountains, are the Presby¬
terians and Methodists. There are a few Lutherans,
Catholics, and Covenanters. There is much bigotry and
fanaticism, together with a general regard to religion and
public worship, though of the 4 orthodox ’ kind. There
are two or three churches in almost every town. The
Presbyterian clergy are required to have some knowledge
of the Latin and Greek languages, and are tolerably well
informed, better than those of any other sect. The Gen¬
eral Assembly of Presbyterians throughout the States, have
passed a vote for the establishment of a Theological Sem¬
inary in the West. In Washington and Greene counties,
at the south west corner of the State, a gentleman, whose
name is Campbell, has circulated a paper of a liberal
cast, which has effected something towards doing away
the thick cloud of bigotry that enveloped them. In this
State there are no public schools except for the children
of paupers. I have heard of but one missionary or agent
in these parts from any society whatever ; and he is a
Methodist, travelling with the professed object of exciting
attention to religion among the masonic lodges in the
West.—I can give you a more particular account of this
place. Pittsburg contains about 1*2,000 inhabitants, col¬
lected from all parts of the world. It is a universal work¬
shop for mechanics of every description. Among this
heterogeneous and smoky mass of population, the three
principal sects are the Presbyterians, Methodists, and
Catholics. Of the three, the Presbyterians are the most
numerous. They have two churches, and number from
800 to 1000 members. The Methodists have two
churches, and number between 7 and 800 members. The
Catholics have one church, and from 6 to 700 members.
The Episcopalians have one church and from 3 to 400
members ; I understand it to be a rich society. Besides
these, the Unitarians, Covenanters, Seceders, Lutherans
52
or German Reformed, and the Unionists have each one
church. These societies are small, and I have not been
able to form a probable estimate of their numbers;
with the exception of the Unitarian society. The Union¬
ists are a few malecontents who left the Presbyterians,
Covenanters, and Seceders, and formed a society by
themselves. The Unitarian society consists of about 30
members, who openly avow their sentiments and meet
regularly on Sundays. They have an average congrega¬
tion of from 50 to 60 individuals. The members live in
hope, supporting one another by friendly intercourse, kind
offices, and the warmest Christian feelings, unalloyed by
violence towards their oppressors, or unprofitable zeal
among themselves.—I have made several attempts to find
a bookseller of a different denomination, who would take
a few tracts on commission, for prejudices are here so
strong, they will not take them from a Unitarian, but I
have not succeeded. Even printers will not insert com¬
munications in answer to direct attacks on Unitarians.
Our friends in this part of the country look with confi¬
dence on our cause, since the formation of the Associa¬
tion, and the introduction of system, to aid our efforts.
Only the sight of one from the East, who can assure them
that there is one spot where Unitarianism is not a re¬
proach, seems to increase their efforts and their zeal.—
As to obtaining subscribers to the Association, I find they
do not think it worth while to subscribe $1, and draw
their tracts from so great a distance, and whatever they
can expend they believe will be better employed in sup¬
porting the cause immediately around them; so that
I do not expect to get a single subscriber, unless I find
some isolated Unitarian, who is not in the neighborhood
of any society constantly requiring his assistance.—I
intend to visit the shire towns of the counties bordering
on, and near to the river on the Ohio side, until I come to
Kentucky. I shall then, by the advice of all our friends
here, travel on horseback/'
From Pittsburg, Mr Thomas passed, as he intended,
into the state of Ohio ; in which as he prosecuted his
journey, he made the following remarks.
“ Jefferson county, Ohio, contains about 19.000 in-
53
habitants. The Presbyterians compose one third ; the
Methodists another; and 1000 Quakers, with Episcopa¬
lians, Seceders, and Christians, another. Of the three
last sects, the Episcopalians are the most numerous ; the
Christians are few.—Steubenville, the county town, con¬
tains about 2500 inhabitants. There is here a large
society of Presbyterians; they have a respectable young
man, from Princeton College, for their minister. Their
number I have not been able to ascertain. The Metho¬
dists, in 1824, returned, as members of their society in
this place, 285. Their increase has not been rapid.
There is a small, but respectable society of Episcopalians;
besides these, there are Quakers, a few Seceders, and
Christians. The society of Christians, during the last
year, amounted to 120; they have, for some time past,
been destitute of a preacher, and their numbers have
decreased. I was here introduced to a young man, who
has come from the centre of the Christians in the west
part of this state, to watch over and foster the interests of
this society. He gave me the names of several of the
elders among the Christians in the western part of the
state. He states that the Christian denomination are
universally opposed to the doctrine of the Trinity, and
that many of them carry their opinions against church
government to the extent, that they are unwilling to have
any kind of ministry separate from the gifted members of
the congregation. This is the point on which they are
divided. I shall however be able to give a better account
of them hereafter.—In Harrison county, joining Jeffer¬
son on the west, I was informed, that the Presbyterians
and Methodists are so nearly equal, that religious tenets
form the point of contention in their elections ; the cast¬
ing vote is in the power of the Quakers.—Wheeling,
on the Virginia side of the river, contains near 3000 in¬
habitants. I attended the Episcopal church in the morning;
the congregation, to the number of perhaps 250, com¬
fortably filled the house. It was communion day, and
the minister thus addressed them. ‘ I have here nothing
to do with names or sects ; I would that all who feel them¬
selves penitent sinners, should partake with us at the
table of our common Lord.’ The next morning, Mr
54
*
Armstrong, the clergyman, concluding, from my seat in
church, that I was a stranger, called on me. I found
him an intelligent gentleman, and a Trinitarian without
bigotry. He was born in Scotland, educated in England,
and is near 60 years old. His church, he has been
five years in forming. The communicants are 4*2 or 3.
He visits many places in the vicinity of Wheeling. In
the afternoon, I attended the Presbyterian church. The
congregation consisted of about 100;—there were, proba¬
bly, twice that number in the morning, as church is
here less frequented in the afternoon. The preaching
was of a respectable order. The Presbyterian church
had the attendance of between 50 and 60 children at their
Sunday School, between meetings. The Catholics have
a small society in this place, but no minister. The Meth¬
odists are numerous ; in 1824, they returned 865 as mem¬
bers of their society ; they have somewhat decreased
since that time.
“From Wheeling, I recrossed the river, and rode 10
miles, to St Clairsviile, the shire town of Belmont county.
The town contains 720 inhabitants. There are Quaker,
Episcopalian, Methodist, and Presbyterian churches in
the place : they are built near together, and are one
or two story brick buildings, without steeples or bells. I
left St Clairsviile for Marietta. At Morristown, 1 i miles, I
stopped to rest my horse. Here a circumstance took place,
the relation of which, I trust, needs no apology. I was mak¬
ing inquiries of the aged inn-keeper concerning the Chris¬
tian denominations in the place, and among others, I ask¬
ed him if there were any Unitarians; ‘ What! ’ says he,
c vou don’t call them Christians !’ ‘ Yes Sir, I do.’ ‘ Why
folks say here, they are Deists.’ 4 Do you know Sir, what
they profess V ‘ No, they don’t believe anything.’ I then
handed him a little book containing the Unitarian faith ;
after he had read it, 1 asked him how he liked it. He
said there was no hurt in it; it was like his bible. I
grave him one or two tracts, and the old man bade me a kind
c/ood by, convinced that there was a difference between
a Unitarian and a Deist. Morristown is small, containing
55
about 200 inhabitants. There is no educated minister
in the place. I next stopped at Barnesville, 12 miles; it
is a thriving place containing about 350 inhabitants.
There are here two small churches belonging to the
Quakers and Presbyterians.—Wed. 17th I rode 11 miles
to Woodsfield, the shire town of Monroe county. I there
found a farmer who was a Unitarian. He said there
were three or four in the place* and solicited some tracts
for distribution. He wished me to stay over night and
preach in the evening, stating that there was no settled
minister or established church in the place except the
Methodist. Woodsfield is small, containing about 300
inhabitants, and has a log court house with a family in
the basement story.—May 18th I arrived at Marietta.
It is the most beautiful town I ever visited. It combines
all the beauties of town and country scenery ; but when
you leave the public road that lies along the river, the
streets are grown over with grass, there appears to be a
perfect stagnation of business, many of the houses are
left desolate, the occupants having been, some swept off,
and others frightened away by fevers. The town has con¬
tained 1700 inhabitants, but within the last three years
that number has diminished. There are but two ream-
H
lar societies, the Congregational and the Methodist. The
Methodists are very few, their church is a small one story
building.—The ministers in this part of the State, with the
exception of the Presbyterians, are of the lower orders
of society. The churches and ministers are almost entirely
confined to the shire towns; the inhabitants are scattered
along the creeks and small streams, so that distance pre¬
vents the formation of churches in other parts of the coun¬
ties. The clergy are assisting us by declaiming against
us ; they thus excite a spirit of inquiry. The south-east part
of Ohio contains many settlers from New England. They
are dissatisfied with the Presbyterian church government,
as something arbitrary, and to them, an innovation. They
need some one to tell them and others of Unitarianism,
what it is, for here it is represented by the Presbyterians
as worse than Deism. In the shire towns, I think Uni¬
tarian preachers could obtain the use of the court-houses,
and they would have respectable audiences ; but they
56
would receive little open support at first.—Monroe, Mor¬
gan, Washington, Meigs, Gallia, Jackson, Lawrence,
Scioto and Pike counties are rough and thinly settled.
The inhabitants cannot, in one day’s ride, get together in
sufficient numbers to form congregations. They are ge¬
nerally a sober and religious people. Gallipolis is about
a third as large as Marietta, and the other parts of Gallia
county, together with Meigs, Lawrence, Pike, Jackson
and Scioto counties are so rough and so thinly settled, that
it would be useless to visit them. It is the poorest
part of the state. To go from Marietta to Athens,
and thence to Chilicothe, thence to West Union will
be nearer and more useful than a river route.
From Marietta Mr Thomas accordingly rode to Athens,
where he says, “I was introduced to President Wilson, and
the professors of the Institution, who are firm Presbyteri¬
ans. There is but one meetinghouse in the town, and
that a small building, belonging to the Methodists. The
Presbyterians occupy the court-house. The Presbyteri¬
ans and the Methodists are equal as to numbers. There
are several Christians in the county.—From Athens, I
visited Chilicothe, in Ross county, 50 miles. Having
made a change in my route, I had no letters to this
place, but from general inquiries I learnt that the town
contained about 2800 inhabitants, that the Methodists
are generally thought to be the most numerous, and the
Presbyterians next. The Episcopalians and Baptists are
few. There are some Universalists, but they seldom
have preaching: there are also some scattered Christians,
1 O t 7
but I could hear of no societies among them.—From
Chilicothe, I went to West Union, in Adams county,
60 miles. I was there introduced to the Presbyterian
clergyman, who told me that there were three Presby¬
terian churches in the county, of 100 members each,
that his church numbered 100. The Methodists in
1824, made returns of 814, as members of their society in
this county, under the head, 4 Brush Creek.’ There
are a few scattered Christians in this county. In
Brown county, joining Adamson the west, I was inform¬
ed that the Christians were very numerous. In this, and
the neighboring counties the Sabbath and its institutions
o o
57
are punctually regarded ; Sunday schools are very com¬
mon, especially among the Presbyterians.”
“ On looking over my memoranda, I find a request,
that I would visit Mr Sarjent, who, I incidentally heard,
was resident near West Union, on Brush Creek, (Ohio)
superintending the publication of his paper, which is ex¬
ecuted at the West Union press. He also has a society
7 miles out of town. On Sunday, May 28th, I attended
his meeting, where I found a congregation assembled, to
the number of 48 or 50. I entered their small one story
log meeting-house, with the old man, who shook hands
with his people as he passed to the opposite side of the
room, where a bench, made by splitting a log and setting
up part of it on four pegs, was appropriated to his use.
After he had seated himself, he took his saddle bags
across his knees, and drew out a bundle nicely rolled up
in a piece of deerskin, which proved to be his bible and
hymn book. After a few impressive remarks on the occa¬
sion for which we were assembled, he commenced his
services by reading and singing a hymn, at the close of
which the whole congregation knelt in prayer. As the
old man raised his eyes and withered hands towards
heaven, his white locks fell back on his shoulders, and
he seemed like devotion personified. He continued in
prayer nearly an hour, during which time there was nei¬
ther shouting nor groaning; the only responses were oc¬
casional amens, uttered in tones of deep devotional feel¬
ing. After the prayer he continued to speak for two or
three hours, during which time manv of them felt the
want of temporal as well as spiritual food, and drew forth
their several budgets of provision, which they very quietly
disposed of. I joined them in the concluding prayer,
and I can truly say that I never felt in a more devotional
frame, than while thus worshipping that Being, who ac¬
cepts our heart rendered services, whether offered be¬
neath a vaulted dome, or a brush-thatched hovel. Mr
Sarjent and his hearers are united in their sentiments,
which are these. They believe in one God, the Father
Almighty ; they believe Jesus to be inferior and depend¬
ent on God ; they deny the natural immortality of the soul,
asserting that Jesus of Nazareth, he alone hath immor-
58
tality, and that, after the fall immortality was the gift
which Christ came to bestow on his followers only ; they
deny the doctrine of endless misery, believing that when
a wicked man dies, he is not annihilated, but his spirit
returns to the‘ocean of Deity,’ whence it was given,
and his body returns to the dust; they deny the doctrine
of a future resurrection, believing that w r hen a man be¬
comes religious, it is his resurrection from the dead, and
that after death, he passes immediately to a happy state
of existence. Mr Sarjent has been a preacher in this
part of the country for thirty years; he is poor and vio¬
lently persecuted by the Presbyterians: he says that
when they found they could not destroy his church
by preaching to them, which he gives them liberty to do
whenever he is absent, they then attacked his private
character. He again and again requested me to express
his warmest sentiments of gratitude and affection to you ;
he savs his religious views have been altered and im-
proved since his correspondence with Unitarians in the
East. He informed me that there were three other
churches or preachers of the same denomination, viz :
Matthias Croy, Gallia county, Ohio, Evan Miles, Jefferson
county, Indiana, and Aylette Rains, Crawford county,
Indiana. They style themselves, 4 The Free Church : ’
they are distinct from the Christians.”
“ Maysville, on the Kentucky side, is 17 miles from
West Union. The gentleman to whom I had a letter,
was absent. I learnt that the place contained respectable
Methodist, Baptist, and Episcopal churches.—From Mays¬
ville I took the road to Paris, in Bourbon county, (Ken¬
tucky,) where I visited the venerable Mr Eastin. From
him I expected more information than from any other
source in the West, but was disappointed. I found him
confined to his bed, and, he thought, near his grave. He
has a Unitarian church near Paris, consisting of about
85 members, who are mostly old men ; he also visits an¬
other society on Kane Ridge, of 10 members. He is
the same Eastin, whose letters are published in the third
volume of the Unitarian Miscellany.—By his advice I
went the next morning to Georgetown, the shire town of
Scott county. I there saw Mr Stone, who may be con-
59
sidered the head of the Christians,* throughout this and
the Western States, both as a writer and a preacher. He
informed me, that Mr Badger visited him last winter, for
the purpose of ascertaining the state of the Christian
church ; that during his stay, an assembly of the elders
was called, and the number of churches, preachers, and
church members, was committed to writing, and given to
him, as official information to lay before the public ; this
he has done in the Gospel Luminary, published at West
Bloomfield, (New York,) Vol. ii. No. 4. I have seen
three numbers of this work, which contain minute in¬
formation, and as far as my observation has extended, it
is correct. In addition to what you may learn from these,
Mr Stone is desirous to open a communication between
Unitarians in the East and West. I gave him duplicates
of all the tracts of the Association, which he said he
would present in turn to all the elders in his vicinity.
Mr Stone farther states, that thev approve of the Chris¬
tian Disciple, a few copies of which are in circulation
among them. They are about publishing a periodical
work at Cincinnati ; Mr Stone is appointed editor.
They have published a new edition of Mr Worcester’s
wrjjings. Mr Stone is regarded as a worthy and pious
man; once rich, but he has emancipated his slaves at
the expense of the luxuries of life, though he still pos¬
sesses a competency. He states that the Christians
are opposed to slavery, which renders them unpopular
with many. The preachers among them have freed
their slaves. There are several professional men among
the Christians in this State.—While with Mr Stone, I
attended a union, - monthly prayer meeting, of the Chris¬
tians, Methodists, and Baptists. They maintained perfect
order. There was neither shouting, groaning nor
screaming ; the one that prayed last, invited some one
to succeed him : the house was full, and the audi¬
ence, to the number, probably, of 300, were respec¬
table, serious and attentive ; the house belonged to the
Christians, and is situated in the centre of George-
* It will be understood that Mr Thomas uses this word in this and
similar places to designate a denomination of believers, who refuse
to be called by any other name. See pages 14 and 15 of 4he Report.
60
town.—What I have seen of Kentucky, and the informa¬
tion I have gained from Mr Stone, have convinced me,
that it would be of little importance to spend any more
time in this State. I shall therefore go from this place
by way of Lexington and Frankfort, to Cincinnati, and
thence to Louisville.—In this State, Tennessee, and Ala¬
bama, I should judge, that Presbyterianism is on the de¬
cline. The people say they will not endure priestriding,
as they here term the Presbyterian church government.
Mr Stone remarked, that were he to name the different
denominations in these three States according to their
numbers, he should place the Methodists first, the Bap¬
tists and Christians next, then the Presbyterians, Episco¬
palians and Catholics. Sunday Schools are common in
this State among all denominations.”
“On Sunday, June 4th, I attended the Episcopal church
in Lexington. The congregation I should estimate at
600. It was communion day ; 23 persons approached
the altar, among whom were four males. The following
account of the churches in Lexington is copied from in¬
formation furnished me by a gentleman who resides in the
place. 1. Roman, Holy Cross, small, service once a
month. 2. Episcopal, Christ Church, large, highly re¬
spectable, intelligent, the house in good taste, an organ,
the minister a graduate of Dartmouth, pews taxed. 3.
Presbyterians, 1st, large, many families from the country,
respectable, minister not academically educated, pew
taxes. 4. Presbyterian, 2nd, not very large, respectable,
minister a graduate of Princeton, pew taxes. 5. Presby¬
terian, 3d, furmerlv of the Associate Reformed, now
independent, very small, minister old and infirm, worship
seldom. 6. Baptist, large, not many educated people,
minister has the degree 0 f D. D. seats free. 7. Metho-
dists, very large, tolerant, amiable and pious, seats free.
8. Independent Methodist, not very large, liberal, amiable,
devout, the minister a physician, also philanthropic and
useful, seats free. 9. African church, house small, ne¬
groes many, devoted to noise and ignorance.”
On his arrival at Frankfort, Mr Thomas was suddenly
and violently seized with fever; but by immediate use of
remedies, overcame the disorder, and continued his jour¬
ney.
61
I
u The only village on the road from Frankfort (Ken¬
tucky) to Cincinnati, (Ohio) a distance of 100 miles, is
Williamstown ; it contains between 1 and *200 inhabit¬
ants, and a Methodist and a Baptist meeting-house, both
log buildings. The meetings were well attended in the
morning, but the object seemed to be to bring together
people for the sports of the afternoon. I did not witness
a horse-race or cock-fight, but I was told that they were
not uncommon in that place on the Sabbath. I could
hear of no Christians in the neighborhood.—In Cincin¬
nati I spent three days. I found here many Unitarians,
among whom are three of the most influential men in the
city. I shall pass through Cincinnati on my return from
the West, and shall then ascertain the numbers and
strength of the different sects in the place.”
From Cincinnati to Louisville, in Kentucky, 130 miles,
Mr Thomas, learning that there were no villages on the
road, that would compensate him for the delay of visiting
them, passed down the river in the steamboat. Of the
latter place he writes,
44 1 attended in the morning the Episcopal church. It
is a fine building, and was filled with the most fashionable
people in Louisville. The congregation may have been
200. They have but one service in the day, as it is not
fashionable to attend church in the afternoon. There is
a respectable Presbyterian church and society, but their
minister was absent. At noon I attended two Sundav
schools, one at the Presbyterian, and the other at the
Methodist church. In the two schools there were nearly
200 pupils. All, of every denomination, send their chil¬
dren to these two schools. The exercises consisted in
learning to read, and in reading and reciting hymns and
portions of scripture. In the afternoon I attended the
Methodist church, where the preacher exerted the utmost
power of his lungs to an audience of less than 200 per¬
sons. There is one Baptist church of good standing, and
a Catholic church, attended by a regular priest once a
month. There are also two African churches, with
preachers suited to the understanding of the slaves. In
the county are several meeting-houses, for the Presbyte¬
rians, Baptists, and Methodists, indiscriminately. Thev
6
62
f
were extremely anxious here, as well as at all the large
towns 1 have visited, that a Unitarian preacher should
visit them.’ 5
From Louisville Mr Thomas entered the State of In¬
diana and passed through Loyd, Harrison, and Crawford
counties. His journal here furnishes the following ex-
tracts.
“ On my way from the neighborhood of Fredonia to
Paoli, I called on brother David Stewart, one of the
elders in the Christian church. He received me with
great joy, and gave me the numbers of the churches in
his vicinity. He stated that there were three churches
in Crawford county, including 150 members; three in
Orange county, including 200 members; three in Wash¬
ington county, including 300 members ; four in Harrison
county ; four in Monroe county, including 500 members.
He remarked in the course of our conversation, that he
had often mentioned the subject of instituting a corres¬
pondence as a body with their Unitarian brethren in the
East. From his house, I went to Paoli, the shire town
of Orange county, containing 50 or 60 houses. I found
a few Quakers, Baptists, and Presbyterians, but no meet¬
ing-house other than the court-house.—From Paoli I rode
9 miles to brother Lewis Byram’s. He informed me
that they had instituted a Sunday school in Paoli, where
the children of parents of all denominations attend to
the number of 100 and upwards. He is the principal of
the school. They are also erecting a building in Paoli
which they call the Seminary ; of this he is overseer and
principal; he is also chairman of the Committee of Cor¬
respondence between the Conference, of which he is a
member, and others of the same, and neighboring States.
—I left brother Byram’s, and rode to Hindostan, the
shire town of Martin county, containing about 63 inhabit¬
ants, exclusive of one negro.—Friday, 23d, I breakfasted
in Washington, the shire town of Daviess county. I
made no acquaintances in the place; but learnt from
general inquiry, that it contained between 2 and 300 in¬
habitants, and that Sunday schools were attended by men
and women, as well as children, for the purpose of learn¬
ing to read and write. There are two small meeting-
63
houses ill Washington.—At night, I arrived at Vincennes,
Knox county, containing 1500 inhabitants; of these the
Catholics number near 700 souls, and 300 voters. They
are erecting a splendid church, and the only one in the
place. Their funds are procured from the Catholics at
New Orleans, Baltimore, Cincinnati, &c. There are a
few churches in the county near Vincennes, and a Pres¬
byterian minister resides in the town. The inhabitants
are mostly foreigners.—After leaving Vincennes, I called
on brother Wasson, who resides 15 miles south of Prince¬
ton, Gibson county. He informed me, that there were
four churches within six miles of him, containing 300
members. I left with him, as with all the elders I have
visited, a copy of each of our tracts.—June 26th, I break¬
fasted at Harmony. There are here about 900 souls.
They make no pretensions to religion, having metamor¬
phosed a fine large church into a work-shop. I might
fill two or three sheets on the subject of the Harmony
community ; but as it does not come within my province,
I shall only add, that Sunday is a holiday ; they have two
public balls a week, one every Tuesday, and one every
Saturday night; that the men played ball all yesterday
afternoon; that their corn-fields and vineyards are over¬
run with weeds ; that many of the leaders among them
are foreigners ; that a number have left them ; and that
Mr Owen has departed from his original plan, having
established three separate communities with clashing
interests, viz. agricultural, mechanical, and literary, and
having sold much of the property to individuals. I find
there are many of the Christian brethren between this
place and St Louis. I shall visit those that fall in my
way.”
The next letter, received from Mr Thomas, was of a
much later date than that from which the above passages
are copied, and was written as he was returning from
the West. His journal is thus continued :
“ Since my last communication, I have been, much of
my time, in almost a wilderness country, little calculated to
afford important religious information. Such observations
respecting the worship, character, and rank in society of
different sects, as I have been able to make, during a rapid
64
progress through a country where the name Unitarian is
hardly known, I will now communicate. The information I
have gained, has been from an acquaintance with preach¬
ers, and religious societies, of different denominations,
both from their public exercises, and from private inter¬
course : also, from gentlemen of intelligence, to whom I
had introductory letters, and who have furnished me with
necessary information, unattainable by personal observa¬
tion, during my short visits.—I crossed the Wabash, six
miles below Harmony, and took the most direct route to
St Louis. I passed through the shire towns of White,
Hamilton, and Jefferson counties, and the towns Carlyle
and Washington, in Washington county, and Lebanon
and Illinois, in St Clair county, State of Illinois. These
are the only towns I passed in travelling 160 or 170 miles,
on one of the most public roads, and I may almost say,
the only road, through the southern and middle parts of
Illinois. The country is low and level, the water seldom
good, and the streams of a sluggish, green, and unhealthy
appearance. The land is mostly prairies, with a few
cabins built on their borders. Under these circumstan¬
ces, the towns are, of course, small, and increase slowly.
Those I have named, number from 40 to 100 souls.
(When I mention the population of a town, I include only
those who live on the town lots, as they are here termed,
and not the inhabitants of the whole township.) The
people are so few, and so scattered, and eminent preachers
so seldom among them, that, to a considerable degree,
they neglect the assembling of themselves together, either
for public worship, or the organization of churches. In
some of the towns, are no places for public worship ; in
some, camp grounds with booths ; in some, court-houses ;
and in a few, a small meeting-house, for all denominations,
indiscriminately. For these reasons, I found it impossi¬
ble to form a correct estimate of the proportionate numbers
of the different denominations. I learnt, that there were
several societies of the Cumberland Presbyterians, a new
sect, which sprang from the General Assembly Presbyte¬
rians. They were rejected by the Synod, because they
sent out preachers, whom they believed to be ‘ gifted in
teaching/ but who had not received an education and li-
65
cense, such as are required by the rules of the Synod,
The qualifications of teachers, and the doctrine of decrees,
are the only material points in which they differ from the
General Assembly Presbyterians. In their creeds, they
omit those articles which express a belief in the doctrine
of decrees, and substitute sentiments similar to those of
the Methodists. The Methodist circuit riders are doing
much for the cause of religion, in every part of the West.
They carry their religion, as it were, to every man’s door.
I meet their preachers in almost every part of the country.
The following facts will give additional weight to an
opinion I expressed in a previous letter, that the Gene::'
Assembly Presbyterians are on the decline in the South
and West. The Christian body, of which there are 15
or 20,000 members, west of the mountains, originated
from the Presbyterians, and are strictly Unitarian in their
opinions of the Father and the Son. The Cumberland
Presbyterians, who are numerous in Illinois and Missouri,
also separated from the Presbyterians. Trinitarian mis¬
sionaries, from the East, I have heard of, but have never
met with any. They are unpopular and unsuccessful in this
section of the country ; perhaps, more so, than any other
class of preachers. This may, in part, be imputed to the
eastern custom of reading sermons. In many places, the
majority of a western audience seem to consider a written
discourse as an acknowledgment of incapacity to give
oral instructions, and withdraw their attention at the
sight of a preacher’s notes, as though he were incapable
of preaching the gospel. The state of society in a new
country requires a different kind of preaching. They
must have excitement. In the parts of Illinois under
consideration, the inhabitants are emigrants from differ-
ent parts, unacquainted, and living at a distance from
each other, with little neighborly intercourse. Thus sit¬
uated, they lose much of that laudable pride and emula¬
tion, which are necessary to the good appearance of their
persons, houses, and farms, and, at the same time, they,
in a great degree, lose their religion. Missionaries here,
might be useful to a few, but there are other parts of this
and other States, in which their sphere of usefulness
might be much more extensive.”
6 *
66
“ July *2d, I arrived at St Louis, Missouri, which, ac¬
cording to Col. Strother, and others, has a population of
6 or 7000. From the appearance of the place, I should
estimate the population at 4 or 5000. The Catholics
have a large society. Their meeting-house is large, but
unfinished ; their priest a man of education and talents.
They have two services on the Sabbath : the morning
sermon in French, the afternoon sermon in English.
There are, also, a Presbyterian, and a Methodist society,
each of which has a convenient house for public worship.
I attended the Catholic church in the morning, intending
to go to the Presbyterian meeting in the afternoon, and
to the Methodist in the evening. The Presbyterian
afternoon service was omitted, on account of a funeral,
and the Methodists had no evening meeting. Mr S. re¬
marked that it was his opinion, that a good Unitarian
preacher might soon attach to himself a large society of
the most respectable citizens in the place. St Louis
surpasses all places I have visited, unless it be Louis¬
ville, in fashion, and high notions of life; great liber¬
ality, (and I may almost say licentiousness) of opinion
on religious subjects, prevails among them. Many of this
class of people do not support Presbyterian preachers,
because they do not agree with them in principles, nor
are they willing to submit to a synod in matters of reli¬
gion ; they do not support the Catholics, because they
do not believe in their ceremonies ; and those of other
denominations are seldom men of education. Should a
Unitarian preacher visit St Louis, I think he might ob¬
tain a liberal support ; but the manners and habits of the
people are such, that, should he, in his zeal, hold his
meetings in the market, or under the shade of a tree, he
would fail of doing that good, which I think a missionary
might do, were he to visit St Louis and St Charles under
favorable circumstances.—July 4th, in the evening, I
rode to St Charles, distant from St Louis 20 miles. Six
miles this side of St Charles, I was overtaken by a violent
storm ; the night set in extremely dark, the rain fell in
torrents, the wind rose, the dry trees fell crashing around
me ; the road I knew not—-the last three miles of the
way were through bottom lands, frequently overflowed
67
from the Missouri, the mud knee deep, and the timber so
thick that the road was invisible. Under these circum¬
stances, I arrived at the ferry at 10 o’clock. The ferry¬
man refused to carry me across till morning, but gave me
leave to trade with his slaves, provided 1 ran my own
risk. The wind was very high, we missed the landing,
and I got out in water two or three feet deep, and led my
horse ashore. St Charles contains about 1000 inhabit¬
ants. There were no meeting-houses in the place, though
they usually have preaching of some kind. I spent the
next day with Governor Miller, who received me with
great politeness and hospitality ; but St Charles not being
his permanent place of residence, he could afford me no
farther account of the religious affairs of the town, than
that there was the usual variety of sentiment common
in places settled by emigrants from different parts, and
that they have not, as yet, regular established preachers,
or churches. In this state of things, I think a missionary
would be well employed, were he to divide his time be¬
tween these two places.”
Mr Thomas was advised to follow his own judgment
in respect to the route, which he should pursue, both go¬
ing and returning. Of his journey homeward, he says,
“'As I returned from Indiana, I visited some of the wes¬
tern counties of Ohio, which together with those 1 had
previously visited in the eastern and southern parts of the
State, I deemed sufficient to give a correct idea of the
general state of religion in Ohio. And as little can be
done except in large towns, I concluded that a rapid pro¬
gress through the centre of the state would occupy all
the time I could profitably spend in the West. I therefore,
by the advice of those in Cincinnati, whom I had consult¬
ed in forming my route westward, sold my horse at Lex¬
ington, and proceeded on a direct course through Cincin¬
nati and Columbus to Cleveland.
“ Having recruited'a little at St Louis and St Charles I
commenced my homeward route, somewhat disheartened
at the dreary extent of prarie and forest between me and
Cincinnati. I crossed the Mississippi a few miles above the
mouth of the Missouri. Just before I came to the bank of
the Mississippi, the nearness of which was concealed by a
68
forest, a muddy creek crossed my path, to appearance
not more than 3 feet deep. I tried my horse at three
places but he refused to go. I thought him obstinate and
struck him severely, when to my utter astonishment I
found him swimming under me. The opposite bank was
so steep I had to swim him some distance before he could
effect a landing. On my arrival at the ferry, I learnt
that I had crossed a creek of back water from the Mis¬
sissippi, then so high as to conceal the bridge. My pa¬
pers I saved by drying them with care. After crossing
the river, I passed through Alton and Milton in Madi¬
son county, Illinois, both inconsiderable villages, with oc¬
casional preaching from the Methodist circuit riders and
the Presbyterian missionaries. They have a population
of from 50 to a 100 souls.—On the same day I ar¬
rived at Edwardsville the county town of Madison county.
It contains nearly 300 inhabitants. There is a society
of General Assembly Presbyterians, also of Cumberland
Presbyterians, and a few Baptists. The preacher of the
Cumberland Presbyterians is a farmer, and resides in a
log cabin near the village ; I called at his house, or cabin,
and was kindly received. There are a few scattered
Christians in the township, but I did not see any of them.
Gov. Coles, the only person in the town to whom I had
letters, was absent; so that I had no letters to deliver
between Edwardsville and Terre Haute.—Friday, 7th
July, I stopped at Greenville, the seat of justice in Bond
county; it is much smaller than Edwardsville. It has a
small meeting-house for the accommodation of any that
will use it.—On the 8th I stopped at Vandalia, the seat of
government in Illinois. It formerly had a population of
6 or 700, its present population is about 200. On Sun¬
day I expected to attend the different churches at Van¬
dalia, but on inquiry I found there was but one meeting
in town on that day ; and that was called by a Methodist
visitor. The Presbyterians occupy the state house, a
small two story brick building, whenever they have a
preacher. In the evening I left Vandalia and followed a
southeast course so as to meet the road leading from Vin¬
cennes to St Louis: otherwise I should have been
/
obliged to lie out two nights on the grand prarie.—I pass-
69
ed through Lawrenceville, the seat of justice for Law¬
rence county. It is a small village and has neither meeting
houses nor preachers, except occasional visitors or some
of the gifted brethren. It has a population of 59 or 60
souls. The same day I arrived at Ellison Prairie, oppo¬
site Vincennes, on the west bank of the Wabash. This
prairie is 10 or 12 miles in extent, and is settled almost
exclusively by Christians. It is generally known by the
name of “The Christian Settlement.” There are nearly
200 in the settlement, and it is by far the largest and best
‘ improvement’ I have seen in Illinois. This is saying much
in their favor, though not more than their industry, good
order, and Christian charity justly claim. The superi¬
ority of their settlement does not consist in fine houses,
for, like most others in the State, their dwellings are
built of logs; their grounds are well enclosed and culti¬
vated, their gardens neat though plain, and their good
habits, manners, and morals proverbial, notwithstanding
the strong prejudices of sectarianism. Near this settle¬
ment is the residence cf William Kinkade, a man of clas¬
sical education and one of the leading elders of the so-
ciety. He spends his time in preaching when able
to ride, and in keeping school when his health is too
infirm to admit of his travelling. I did not see him, for
he was quite unwell when I was at the settlement, so much
so that he was confined to his bed ; besides, I had passed
his house 12 miles before 1 knew where he lived. After
leaving Ellison Prairie I crossed the Wabash, and entered
Indiana at Vincennes. 5 ’
“ July 12th, I left Vincennes for Terre Haute, distant
60 miles. On my way thither, I passed through a village of
Shakers, situated on the Wabash, 12 miles north of Vin¬
cennes. The village is remarkable for that neatness and
simplicity, which are so eminently characteristics of the
Shakers. The society consists of nearly 100 members;
they are here, as well as in other places, accused by the
“ world’s people ” of secret meetings for immoral purpo¬
ses ; it yet remains with the accusers to prove the charge.
—In the evening, I arrived at Miriam, on the Wabash,
and the seat of justice for Sullivan county. The vil¬
lage contains 15 or 20 families.—Terre Haute, the shire
70
town of Vigo county, is also on the Wabash. It has a
population of about 300; one Presbyterian, and one
Methodist society ; also a few Baptists and Christians,
though not sufficiently numerous, in the immediate
neighborhood of the village, to support regular preaching.
The Methodists have a house for public worship, and
preaching as often as their minister performs his circuit.
The Presbyterians occupy the court-house. A few miles
southwest from the town, on the Illinois side of the river,
is the residence of two eminent preachers in the Chris¬
tian church, David McGahey, and Henry A. Palmer. I
should have visited them, had they not been absent on a
preaching tour.—Having learnt that the first 30 miles of
my way towards Indianopolis, the seat of government,
was through a thick forest, without a single habitation,
and no road other than a bridle way, which was often
concealed by thickets, I began to make some inquiries
what course to pursue, when fortunately I met with a
man who had lately passed through the same forest, and
was now ready to return. We provided provender for
our horses, and set forward on our journey. During the
twilight, we crossed the ford at Eel river, and soon ar¬
rived at Bowling Green, the shire town of Clay county.
This county was lately set off, and the shire town con¬
sists of three log cabins, in one of which I spent the
night. The area in which these cabins are built, and on
which the trees have been felled and burnt, contains 3
acres, and is surrounded on every side by the primitive
forest.-—The next day I rode to Spencer, the seat of
justice for Owen county, in hopes of attending meeting ;
but on my arrival, I learnt that there was no meeting in
the place, though the Methodists sometimes have preach¬
ing. The village contains 60 or 70 inhabitants ; it is
situated on the bank of White river, which is generally
thought sufficient to support steamboat navigation, during
the spring months, as high up as Indianopolis ; it is of
course increasing fast.—Bloomington, the shire town of
Monroe county, where I next stopped, has a population
of more than 300, a Presbyterian, a Methodist, and a
Christian society. In the skirts of the village are two
camp grounds with booths for public worship. The
n
Christians in Bloomington and its vicinity constitute a
numerous and respectable part of the community. I
called on brother Henderson, a Christian preacher, and
was received with joy when I made known the object of
my visit. He and his family had just returned from a
communion meeting, which continued through Saturday
and Sunday. He said they had a happy meeting, that
five had professed religion, and that perfect order and
Christian conduct prevailed throughout the meeting. He
also informed me that there were five churches in the vici¬
nity, consisting of from 50 to 100 members each. He was
pleased to hear of the progress of “ that Christian liberty
wherewith Christ hath made us free,” in the Eastern
States, and was desirous to establish Christian fellowship,
by correspondence and cooperation. There is one clas¬
sically educated preacher in this neighborhood, who
belongs to the Christian church.—In the evening, I
continued my journey towards Indianopolis, where I
arrived on the night of the 18th, having passed through
Martinsville, the shire town of Morgan county, con¬
taining about 80 or 40 inhabitants, without meeting¬
house or minister. I called on brother Morris, a lawyer,
and a preacher in the Christian church. He informed
me that there were two churches of his denomination
near to him, one on Eagle creek, the other just north
of the town. (You will recollect, when only two or
three churches are mentioned in a county, that, in this
part of Indiana, it is not unfrequently the case, that the
village at the county seat constitutes the only one in the
county ; and that the other 4 improvements,’ of which
there are but few, are generally scattered along some
fertilizing stream, at such a distance from each other,
as to render weekly meetings impracticable.) There are
three organized churches in addition to these : the Pres¬
byterian, consisting of about 30 members; the Baptist, of
nearly the same number ; and the Methodist, of nearly
100. I was introduced to a gentleman, formerly of Bos¬
ton, who informed me that Indianopolis was healthy,
with the exception of the intermittent fever in the fall
season ; this however, is probably owing to the newness
of the place, and the surrounding woods, as there are but
about six acres from which the primitive forests have
been cleared away. In addition to this, the surrounding
country is remarkably levei ; and White river, on which
the town is built, is of course a sluggish stream. The
present population is about 800; as the seat of govern¬
ment is now permanently established in this place, its
increase will probably be rapid. Religious sects are here
so divided, that a man's religious tenets cannot render
him very unpopular, as neither sect is more numerous
than all the others ; for this reason, there is more free¬
dom of inquiry, and less persecution, than usually pre¬
vails where one denomination outnumbers all the others.
—July 20th, I left Indianopolis for Rushville, distant 40
miles. I started early in the morning, and rode diligently
all day, and at night I had travelled but 20 miles. The
road lay through a thick forest, and the mud was so deep,
and the bridges such, that I was obliged to make my way
among thickets, swamps, and fallen trees, at the expense
of having my clothes literally torn from me. I crossed
the ford at Blue river, along which there are several set¬
tlements. I here called on brother Frazier, who visits
two churches in his vicinity. He said there was a Bap¬
tist church of 60 or 70 members near by, the minister of
which often attended the Christian church, and assisted
him in its duties; and that the Baptists, though most of
them held to ciose communion, had not as yet found
fault with him. He thought there was a prospect of a
union of their societies. This is the effect of charity,
brotherly love, and good works among the Christians.
Having repaired, as well as I could, the defects which
my ride had occasioned in my wardrobe, I proceeded
to Rushville, the seat of justice for Rush county: it
has nearly 100 inhabitants, with no meeting-house, other
than the court-house.—Continuing my route homewards,
I passed through Connersville, the shire town of Fayette
county; it contains 300 inhabitants, and three churches,
Methodist, Presbyterian, and Baptist. As I wished to
be at Paris on Sunday, I stopped here but a short time,
and of course learnt little else than what I have mention¬
ed. The same day I passed through Centreville, the
county seat of Wayne. Here also I staid but a few
73
minutes, and in the evening proceeded to Richmond,
where I spent the night. Centreville is about as large as
Connersviile ; a large part of the inhabitants are Quakers.
Richmond has a population of 600, of which one half are
Quakers. There is a Baptist and a Methodist society, also
a congregation of Africans ; they were drawn thither by
the Quakers, who afford every assistance in their power
both to runaway slaves and free blacks. The Quakers are
Unitarian in most of their opinions, and charitable to¬
wards all denominations.”
“ Sunday, 2*3d, I rode out 7 miles, to Paris, a small vil¬
lage, in Preble county, Ohio, where the Christians are
very numerous. I breakfasted with Elder Purviance,
joined them in their family devotions, (a duty, the omis¬
sion of which, in a Christian family, I have not known,
in a single instance,) and then repaired to church. The
church a convenient building, situated near a spring,
which to them is a matter of no small importance, as
in the warm season they assemble early, and stay till
night. The congregation consisted of perhaps more than
250 persons : they conducted themselves in as orderly a
manner during the services, and the day, as any class of
Christians in the world. There was no illaudable enthu¬
siasm, either in the preacher or hearers. I was solicited
to take a part in the exercises, which I declined, as there
were two ministers present, one of whom preached in the
forenoon, and the other in the afternoon. Elder Purvi¬
ance preached to them from John xxi. 15, 16, 17. “ Si¬
mon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me, &,c.” The object of
his discourse seemed to be to impress his hearers with
the importance of showing their love to their master, by
leading peaceable and holy lives ; by ministering in good
works and kind offices to each other, to the disciples of
their common Lord, of whatever denomination, and to the
world at large. Though he spoke in a rude and simple
style, I have seldom heard a more affectionate exhortation
to lead righteous and sober lives, and to live peaceably
with all men. In the afternoon services, a portion of time
was allowed to an African. The circumstances were
these : he had formerly been a slave to one who is now
a preacher in the society ; he had run away and not been
7
74
heard of for 30 years ; on that morning he returned to
his master, having learnt that he had freed his slaves, and
said that he was a member of the Methodist church, and
had long preached to his brethren in slavery. ' He solicit¬
ed an opportunity to address the congregation, after the
regular services, which was granted. He was listened to
with decorum ; his remarks were good, and he appeared
sincere. Elder Purviance, whom I have before men-
\tioned, is one of the oldest Christian preachers in the
West. He devoted the early part of his life to political
affairs, but becoming tired of the wranglings and petty
jealousies of a political career, he has since devoted him¬
self to the church. Pie has literally spent his latter years
going about doing good.”
Mr Thomas next visited Oxford, Butler county, Ohio,
of which he thus speaks:
“ Oxford is the seat of Miami University. This insti¬
tution was chartered in 1809, and a township of land
given in fee simple by Congress, which affords them an
annual revenue of §4000 ; in addition to this, it has
been particularly patronized by the state legislature.
The main edifice and one wing of the building are com¬
pleted : the plan is such, that the wings may be extended
as the institution increases, and still add to the beauty
of the structure. The first regular class graduated this
fall ; there are 100 students. I attended evening prayers
in the chapel; the exercises consisted in part, of the re¬
citation of a stated number of texts by individuals called
*
upon at the discretion of the President. The members
of the senior class with the exception of four are mem¬
bers of the Presbyterian church : the Presbyterian meet¬
ing is also held in the University chapel. There is a
meeting-house in the village for the Methodists and Bap¬
tists. The site of the town is pleasant and healthy ; it
is situated on a gentle swell of land, which renders it very
pleasant to a traveller in this uncommonly level country.
The village has a population of 200 and is fast increas-
mg.
“ 25th July, I arrived at Cincinnati. This is the largest
city west of the mountains, it contains 15,000 inhabit¬
ants. The religious denominations are as follows ;
75
Methodists between 8 and 900, Presbyterians 400,
Quakers 180; there are also a large Episcopal society,
two of Baptists, one of Covenanters, one of Catholics,
and one of Christians. The Methodists have two
ehurches, the Presbyterians two, and the others one
each. There are many who profess Unitarian principles,
and they are among the most respectable people in the
city. They are anxious to establish a Unitarian society,
and would do much to support one. Had they a church
1 doubt not that they would support a minister well. A
place of such importance is well worth the attention of
all who feel interested in the cause of liberal Christian¬
ity.—I will give you a sketch of the conduct at a
prayer meeting in the city, which I happened to attend.
One evening as X was walking the streets, I heard
screams, as though several people were in distress : I
hastened to the place whence the noise came, and found
near 100 persons, men, women and children, assem¬
bled at a prayer meeting. They prayed and sung al¬
ternately. While one was praying, others encouraged
him with expressions like these, “ O Jesus! how good he
prays !” “ A’nt that right good, Lord \” “1 can conquer a
thousand ! ” “ Yes,’ 5 says another, “ and leap over a
wall! ” And in short, some burst into laughter, others
into crying, some hurra’d, and others groaned. Deaf¬
ened and confused with their clamor, and shocked at
their worship , I soon left them.”
Mr Thomas on his return fulfilled a promise given to
Mr Stone, that he would visit him again, on his way from
the West. Of this visit and of his journey through
Ohio towards New England he thus writes.
O
“On Monday I set out for Georgetown to visit Mr Stone,
where I arrived August 2d. He told me he had con¬
sulted several of his brethren, and they had concluded
that it was not expedient for them to procure the publica¬
tions of the Association to a large amount at present, as
they had lately made considerable exertions to republish
Worcester’s Bible News, and to establish a paper devoted
to the Christian interest. He also said they had done
much to support missionaries in the upper parts of Illi¬
nois and Indiana, and in Tennessee, Alabama and Mis-
76
sissippi. They also wish their brethren in general to learn,
that although we have taken what may seem the name of a
party instead of the simple name Christians, we have not
set ourselves up as holy to the exclusion of all who differ
from us in opinion. He added, that it was from secta¬
rian quarrels, and the unholy feelings that attend them,
that they had been forced to separate themselves from all
sectarians, and assume the primitive name of Christians.
At the time of my visit he was about starting on a preach¬
ing tour to Tennessee and Alabama. I took leave of
this happy, this good man, sincerely regretting that my
personal acquaintance with so kind and hospitable a fami¬
ly was probably at an end.”
“ Having, as I returned from Indiana, visited some of
the western counties of Ohio, and having previously visit¬
ed the eastern and southern counties, I concluded that
a rapid progress through the centre of the State would
occupy all the time I could profitably spend in the West.
I therefore sold my horse in Lexington, and proceeded
by public conveyances to Dayton, the first important
place on the nothern route from Cincinnati to the Lakes.
Dayton is a large township, containing about 3600 in¬
habitants. The town is situated on the Great Miami,
and has several convenient buildings for public worship.
There is a society of Christians a mile from the village.
In this town, as throughout this State, the habits and
morals of the people are more like those of New Eng¬
land than in any of the neighboring States ; better atten¬
tion is paid to the sabbath and to public worship. Games
and sports, which are prevalent in many places on the
sabbath, are here prohibited ; the shops are closed, and
all unnecessary business is suspended. The religious
opinions of the people are generally those of the State
from which they emigrated ; there are therefore many
different denominations. The Methodists are the most
numerous, and the Presbyterians next.—After leaving
Dayton I passed through several small villages, and on
Saturday night, August 12th, arrived at Columbus the seat
of government of Ohio, where I spent the sabbath. Co¬
lumbus contains 1400 inhabitants. The Methodists are
very numerous ; in the town and county they number
77
1300 ; the enthusiasm and vehemence displayed in their
devotions, exceed description. On Sunday night as I
lay in my bed at the distance of half a mile, I could hear
them distinctly. The Presbyterian society have a con¬
gregation of 300. Their minister is a man of talents
and education ; their church is a one story wooden build¬
ing, which is soon to give place to a new one. There
is also a Lutheran church and society, and a few Bap¬
tists. The Christians are few and unorganized. I was
much pleased with the quiet and good order which pre¬
vailed on the sabbath ; it seemed like home.—Monday
noon brought me to Mount Vernon the seat of justice
for Knox county. It has a population of 400 : there is
a respectable Presbyterian church and society * there is
also a society of Christians under the care of Judge
Smith, they are increasing fast ; I spent the evening with
him, during which he exhibited a strong interest in what¬
ever related to our proceedings, and wished that epistolary
intercourse might ensue.—On Wednesday I reached
Ravenna, where I had business of a pecuniary nature.
After one day’s delay I proceeded to Cleveland on
Lake Erie, where I arrived on Friday.—Having learned
that I should be obliged to tarry several days or proceed
immediately, and having ascertained from inquiries of
my host, and of gentlemen who were present, that the
place was important, only from its local situation, I
embarked in the night, and proceeded by the most direct
course for Massachusetts, where I arrived September 9th,
having been absent five months; during which time I
passed through twelve States, visited fifteen counties in
Pennsylvania, twentyfive in Ohio, twelve in Kentucky,
twentytwo in Indiana, twelve in Illinois, and two in
Missouri, and travelled between four and five thou¬
sand miles, and one half of the distance on horseback.”
7 #
78
In the abstract of Intelligence, furnished by Mr Thomas
after his return, there was much necessary repetition, and
many remarks were made, which were meant only for
the perusal of the Committee. In these private details
they possess information which will guide and assist
them, if at any future time they should wish to extend
their operations into the Western States. It may be
agreeable to the readers of the previous narrative, to see
the following extracts, which, it is thought, may with pro¬
priety be published.
“ In a previous correspondence, it was my object to
communicate information respecting all denominations of
Christians in that section of the country, which was the
scene of my inquiries. I shall now confine my remarks
to those places which afford the widest field for exer¬
tion, and promise most success to the friends of liberal
Christianity, and to those engaged in the great work of
salvation.
“ In a country like Ohio and the States west of it, where
a new population is thinly scattered over a wide extent
of territory, where from the rapid increase of population
villages spring up as it were while men sleep, where too,
in many instances, there are no settled ministers, it would
seem that missionary exertions might be extremely use¬
ful, and their usefulness increase in proportion to the in¬
flux of population ; but this plan of spreading religious
knowledge, viewed in connexion with the present state
of liberal Christianity, and the manner in which its teach¬
ers are educated, is liable to objections which would ren¬
der it less useful, than that of forming establishments
in large towns and cities. Those, who are pioneers in
settling a new country, are not unfrequently more engaged
in beginning the world anew, than in preparing to leave
it. They are generally cf that class, among whom any¬
thing new must force its way in opposition to prejudice
and bigotry, made doubly strong through the absence of
those views and feelings which aie consequent only to
education and good learning. They have not among
them that society, which would serve to animate the exer¬
tions and encourage the labors of good ministers, who
79
alone can be efficient as missionaries, neither will such
men forego the benefits of that society, which will proper¬
ly appreciate their talents and render them doubly useful
in their day and generation, for situations in which their
sphere of usefulness would be so limited, and many of
their most valuable acquirements in a manner useless.
' Such places must be left to a class of preachers sui gen¬
eris ,, who can create that kind of excitement, and make
those appeals to the feelings, necessary to produce effect,
which men of cultivated minds and improved tastes can¬
not do ; for with such it must be affected, insincere, and
of course ineffectual.
“ On the other hand, able men will be willing to go into
large towns or cities where there will be a suitable field
for the exertion of all their talents; where there are
ample means of obtaining a support; where they will be
able to spread religious knowledge through the medium
of the press, as well as from the pulpit and where they
will be in situations to continue those religious instruc¬
tions and exhortations, which are necessary to secure the
good fruits of Christianity.
“With these views I shall confine my remarks to those
towns and cities, in which I have reason to think the es¬
tablishment of Unitarian preachers would be most useful
to the cause of religion.
“ Harrisburg , (Penn.) is the seat of government,
and has a population of 3000. At the time of my
visit the society of Unitarians was small, compared
with churches in this vicinity. It was increasing
as rapidly as could be expected under the circum¬
stances of its situation. A few tracts had been procur¬
ed, and had carried conviction to the minds of many.
Harrisburg is an important place, not only as the capital
of the state, but in its location and population. During
the session of the legislature, many of the members at¬
tend the meetings of the Unitarian society, as often
as they have preaching. The society is composed of
the most respectable class of the inhabitants. I know
of no reason why assistance would not be profitably af¬
forded to them.
“ In Northumberland and its vicinity, Mr Kay has
so
opened a wide field for missionary labors, and can, only
at long intervals, visit all the places where he is request¬
ed to preach.
i( Pittsburg, (Penn.) is a large and flourishing city.
The Unitarians here have a convenient meeting house, a
handsome brick building, situated nearly in the centre of
the city. They are, however, in debt for the building, and
are obliged to pay a ground rent of §100 a year. Their
present preacher was formerly a methodist minister ; he
was excommunicated for his religious views ; he preaches
extempore, and is not a regular pastor, neither does he
make preaching his profession. They are desirous to
obtain a pastor. There is reason to suppose a large so¬
ciety might be collected, and much good done by
an able preacher. Their former minister used to gain
a partial support by teaching a school. The situation
is important and the number and character of the inhab¬
itants, collected from all parts of the world, show that
preaching is here necessary, if anywhere. The condi¬
tion of this society calls loudly for the attention of those
who have to spare. It must also be considered, that they
have no neighboring minister, occasionally to give them
sermons.
“ Steubenville, (Ohio) is the next place that I shall
mention as favorable for missionary exertions. It is situ¬
ated immediately on the bank of the Ohio, at the distance
of 30 miles from Pittsburg, and in the midst of a fruitful,
healthy, and thickly settled country. Here is a society
of Unitarian Christians. In the town and county, there
are many Friends, who are, generally, favorable to Uni¬
tarian views of Christianity. Several of the leading men
in the place are from New England, and are desirous of
forming a society. Steubenville is so near Pittsburg,
that they might be associated, and I doubt not that be¬
tween the two places they would support a missionary.
At almost all seasons of the year, boats are passing con¬
tinually from one place to the other, so that the expense
of time and monev would be inconsiderable. I am con-
•/
fident, that a zealous and devoted man might build up
and increase a church in both these places. Steuben¬
ville has several manufacturing establishments, two or
81
three banks, an academy, and a printing office. Under
these circumstances, I should think no one who has enter¬
ed the profession with right motives, and who is not else¬
where engaged in the ministry, would hesitate to go, and
labor where the harvest is indeed great, but the laborers
few.
“ Marietta , (Ohio) is also situated on the Ohio, over
100 miles from Steubenville. It was one of the first settle¬
ments made in the State. It is laid out in fine taste, and is
adorned with many elegant buildings, both public and
private. A paper is here printed; there is also an acade¬
my. A large number of the inhabitants do not attend
the Presbyterian or the Methodist church, and are called
Universalists, though they seldom have preaching of any
kind. Among the reasons for anticipating success to a
Unitarian preacher in Marietta, may be considered the
manner in which religion is there supported. The Ohio
Company Grant, including Washington, Morgan, Meigs,
.. Gallia, and one or two other counties, was given or grant¬
ed on the condition, that one out of a particular num¬
ber of districts should be rented land for the support
of religion. Marietta is a rented district; the inhabit¬
ants are obliged to pay a stated rent in support of reli¬
gion. Thus each sect gets all the signers it can, and
draws money in proportion to its numbers. I was told
that the Universalists were the most numerous and drew
the largest share of money ; but instead of procuring a
preacher, they have appropriated it to the purchase of a
library. This shows that they are not anxious to build
up the Universalist faith. I think many of them would
give their support to a Unitarian minister. There are
likewise many who are Unitarians at heart. Though
Marietta is not now rapidly increasing, it is so situated
that it cannot fail to become a large place. It is situated
not only on the Ohio, but also on the Muskingum. This
river is navigable 100 miles for batteaux, and nearly 200
for small boats, and from the head of boat navigation,
with one mile of portage, there is water communication
by Cuyahoga river with lake Erie. The Muskingum is
250 yards wide at its entrance into the Ohio, and runs
through the middle of the town.
82
(i Paris , (Kentucky.) Mr Eastin has here a small so¬
ciety. He is an old man, and is fast hastening to the
reward of his labors. When the shepherd shall be smit¬
ten , I fear the flock will be scattered. He is a professed
Unitarian, and has long been engaged in the ministry.
When he heard and witnessed the efforts of his Christian
brethren in the cause of truth, a gleam of joy spread over
his countenance, and seemed to invigorate his frame, al¬
ready exhausted by confinement and sickness. Paris is
distant about 17 miles from Lexington.
“ Lexington and Louisville , (Kentucky.) In Lexing¬
ton, I should think Unitarian efforts would avail but little.
In Louisville, several respectable gentlemen were of opin¬
ion, that a popular Unitarian preacher might soon esta¬
blish a good society. The reasons for this opinion, are
the character of the present preachers, the number of in¬
habitants who at present seldom attend any church, and
the number of literary men, who entertain liberal views
of religion. Louisville is about 70 miles distant from
Lexington.
&'t Louis and St Charles , (Missouri.) These towns
are situated between 18 and 20 miles apart. At St Louis
there are many who do not attend church, because they
have not able preachers, nor men of their sentiments. At
St Charles, I could not learn that there were anv houses
built solely for public worship ; there is certainly little
effectual preaching, though there are many who would
properly appreciate, and partially support a missionary.
“ Indianapolis , (Indiana) is a new place, and has been
but a short time the seat of government. There are a
few men of liberal sentiments, who would be pleased with
a Unitarian preacher. The field for exertion in the minis¬
try at Indianopolis is at present limited. In the eastern
• part of the State, in Fayette, Franklin, and Wayne coun¬
ties, are several fine villages, situated near together, where
I think a missionary would have full audiences, and
might, by continued labors, do much good.
“ Cincinnati , (Ohio) is by far the most, favorable place
for the establishment of a Unitarian church of any I visit¬
ed. There are many professed Unitarians, who are anx¬
ious for a minister ; and all that is wanting is a pious*
83
devoted, and able minister, who may be a nucleus around
which a society and church may be formed. I know not
why a minister should hesitate to make Cincinnati a per¬
manent residence.
“ Because I have mentioned the foregoing places as
favorable for missionary efforts, I would have no person
think that a preacher would immediately step into a fine
meeting-house, or into ample means of support, or even
into a church already organized ; but rather into places,
where some have neglected religion because they have
heard it represented in a manner repugnant to rea¬
son and their consciences, others because they have
seen it made a matter of 4 experiences/ confessions, and
creeds, an austere, exclusive, and gloomy system ; into
places, where one must labor as becometh a minister of the
gospel, and reap the reward of his labors in seeing a
church grow up around him. Preachers at first may
promise themselves hearers in all these places, but. it will
depend on their own powers whether they interest and
retain them. They may reasonably calculate on a rapid
increase of strength and numbers, but their own exertions
must effect it, and if they will not devote all their powers
to their profession, they ought not to be supported in it.
I have spoken of but few places in Ohio, not that these
are the only ones of which I could speak favorably, but
because I should not know where to stop, should I under¬
take to single them out. The country lying south from
Columbus, between the Muskingum and the Miami, is
filled with large, populous, and flourishing villages, so that
the whole time I was absent would hardly be sufficient to
gain an accurate knowledge of their religious condition.
“ The Christians. It would be useless to repeat here
their religious views and opinions.* As to their religious
character, I was never among more practical Christians in
my life. Family worship I have never known them to
* For a full and accurate account of the Christian Denomination,
their history, sentiments and numbers, reference may be had to
a letter addressed by Rev. Simon Clough, one of their elders, to the
Secretary of the General Baptist Assembly of England, which has
been published in this country, in a pamphlet, and may also be found
in the Christian Examiner, vol. 4, (for 1827) pp. 183—193.
S4
omit either at night or morning; neither have I ever
witnessed over-wrought enthusiasm or extravagance in
their public or private services. I often attended their
meetings, in different States, and I never witnessed the
least disorder or impropriety in any of their meetings.
Their preachers, though many of them are of the labor¬
ing class of the community, are men of strong minds and
good talents ; there are also among them many classical¬
ly educated men. They resemble the Methodists in
their mode of sending out preachers, and holding their
annual associations. Letters are sent from each confer¬
ence to the other conferences, and are read at the annual
meetings; so that each conference is acquainted with the
success of all the others. In one -of these letters addres¬
sed from “ the elders and brethren of the Christian Con¬
ference on the Wabash,*' they say, “it has been determined
not to fellowship any person, as a church member or as a
preacher, who is in the spirit or practice of slavery.”
(t We feel as much attached to the Bible as a rule of faith
and government, as we ever did, and feel determined,
God b^ing our helper, to give it precedence of all the
books in the world.” In this letter they speak of their
ministers under three classes—elders, licensed preachers,
and exhorters. The Christians are very numerous in
Alabama and Tennessee: also in the vicinity of George¬
town (Kentucky.) A large body of them reside on El¬
lison Prairie, (Illinois ;) also at Bloomington and Indiano-
polis (Indiana ;) at Paoli (Indiana) and Paris (Preble
county, Ohio.) These places are among the principal
settlements, of which I have named but a few. I will
close with the single remark, that I was never among
any class of Christians, who better live up to their pro¬
fession, than the Western Unitarian Christians.”
/
1st Series. No. 28.
THE
DOCTRINE
OF
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE,
%
EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.
BY SAMUEL. BARRETT.
PRINTED FOR THE
^tnertcan Slnttattan &ssoctattou.
BOSTON,
LEONARD C. BOWLES, 50 WASHINGTON STREET.
1829.
Price 4 Celts.
BOSTON,
Press of Isaac R. Butts.
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
Experience worketh hope, and this hope maketh not ashamed.— Paul.
The subject I purpose to consider in these pages is
religious experience. I design to offer some plain remarks
on the importance, misapprehensions, characteristics, and
methods of experimental religion. A discourse embracing
topics such as these, cannot be deemed unworthy the at¬
tention of any who profess to be disciples of Jesus Christ;
since it will be readily conceded, that the great end of
his divine mission was to make men experimentally ac¬
quainted with what religion unfolds and enjoins ; and
since, as every one must acknowledge, there is no point
upon which Christians, of whatever denomination, ought
to find a higher degree of satisfaction in dwelling, than
the practical tendencies of their faith.
I. In asking attention, in the first place, to the im¬
portance of experimental religion, I begin with ex¬
pressing the hope that, if, in any mind attached to liberal
views of Christianity, unpleasant thoughts are apt to be
associated with the topic in consequence of the extremes
to which some have been forced in seasons of unusual
4
RELIGIOUS EXFERIEXCE
52
excitement, they will not be set to the account of religious
experience, properly understood, but to that only of the
extravagances which have at times accompanied it. The
thing itself, apart from its abuses and viewed in its true
light and relations, can appear to none more worthy of
deepest concern, than it ought to the class of Christians
to which we belong. Indeed, not to attach infinite im¬
portance to the religion that is truly experimental, would
be inconsistent with our declared, nay, with our most
cherished principles. Much as we admire our system of
faith, in a speculative regard, we know and we teach,
that it must be in vain for us unless we make it a matter
of individual, personal experience. Were it not for its
power to enlighten, sanctify, and save the soul, we should
V. «
account it as a useless thing. For this power, unequalled
as we think it, we esteem our faith above all price; for
this we cling to it as to our life; for this we would not
shrink from any sacrifice to uphold it in the world. In¬
deed, there is not, I am persuaded, nor ever has been,
any system, which, alike as to what it denies of the popu¬
lar creed, as to what it affirms to be of revealed truth, and
as to what belongs to it in common with the notices we
are compelled to take of human life and divine provi¬
dence, is so well adapted, as Unitarian Christianity, to
commend the importance of the religion that is thoroughly
experimental; since, as I sincerely believe, there is, and
there has been, none, which so uniformly, so decidedly,
and so strongly, as this, asserts its claim and evinces its
power, to deepen the sense of individual responsibleness,
to enforce the obligation of personal endeavor, and to
press home the great truth that no man’s hopes ought, in
a religious respect, to be better than his experiences.
1. First, can any thing be better suited to this end than
53
EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.
o
what our system denies of the popular creed ? Why, but for
the importance we attach to experimental religion, do we
deem it worthy of so much effort to be rid of those false
grounds of hope, that have for ages prevented the doc¬
trines of Jesus from bearing upon men’s consciences
with the pressure of unquestionable truth? Why else,
for instance, do we plead no hereditary irnpotency as an
excuse for our sins; hold to no transfer of the penalty
of our guilt to a substituted victim; trust in no righteous¬
ness as imputable to us but our own; cherish no hope of
special help from heaven except we try to help ourselves;
rely on no faith without works; recognize no condition
of salvation but personal holiness; depend on nothing
for acceptance with God but our own character and the
mercy of our heavenly Father as made known to us by
his blessed Son ?
2. Again, can any thing more strongly evince the im¬
portance of experimental religion, than what our system
affirms to be of divine revelation ? Why, but for our
deep sense of this, do we lay so much stress on those
truths of scripture, which are practical; w 7 hich imply the
obligations, suggest the motives, and prescribe the rules
of duty; which, in a word, require of us the greatest
amount of virtue ? Why, for example, do we prize so
highly the belief that we were born with pure hearts,
but that we may feel ourselves bound to keep the treasure
unsullied ; the belief that w : e have the pow r er, moral as
well as physical, to do our duty, but that we may not wait
for supernatural influence before we set about it; the
belief that God’s love to his children is free, unmerited,
and unbought, but that it may touch our hearts and win
us to an affectionate obedience; the belief that Jesus
Christ was sent by the Father to save us, by affording
VOL. III. 1*
6
• RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
54
us methods and motives for saving ourselves, but that
we may have no reason of apology for not yielding to the
one and using the other; the belief that there is the
most intimate and enduring connexion between vice and
misery, and between virtue and happiness, but that we
may dread sin as our worst enemy, and cherish desires
of holiness that nothing can quench ]
3. Then, too, the notices we are compelled to take of
human life and divine providence, at once fall in with
these views, and serve to deepen our impression of the
importance that belongs to experimental religion. We
interpret everything as a caution against trusting to what
are called death-bed experiences. According to our
views, the experiment is every day going on that is to
decide our future destiny. Its results are unaffected by
nothing that happens to us. We are continually growing
better or worse. Our character is modified by every step
we take, by every thought we think, by every feeling we
cherish, by all our movements, speculations, and emo¬
tions. Moment presses upon moment, day upon day,
and year upon year, but no one of them leaves us as it
found us. We propitiate it in the appointed way, and it
imparts to us its blessing; we do it despite in our folly,
and it marks us with its curse. We use it well as it
passes, and it goes to bear witness for us at the bar of
God. We stain it with our vice, it leaves us, and we
cannot call it back again to take the stain out. The cry
of penitence will not revoke the time we have lost. No
tears of contrition can change the pollution of guilt into
the purity of innocence. Prayer to God even, after we
have sinned, though it may obtain all which forgiveness
implies, cannot make us as we were before w'e transgress¬
ed. What we experience and what we do is fixed on the
55
EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.
7
page of truth. The record of our virtues will be as last¬
ing as our memory, and it will not cease to be a satisfac¬
tion to us such as angels have. But the leaf in the
book of our life that we have purposely blotted we cannot
make clean again. The blot must remain to fill us with
regrets whenever we look upon it.
With what interest, therefore, should notour experiences
seem to us clothed. I cannot find language to express
it fully. I must leave it to imagination to conceive
what I am unable to describe. If we are to live for¬
ever, and if all wc deliberately think and feel and do,
is to have a bearing on our future condition indefinitely,
then, certainly, the subject is one of vast, one of inex¬
pressible importance.
II. But I must venture to caution my readers against
some misapprehensions that prevail. The subject is
not fully understood by all who admit its importance. The
words, religious experience, are often pronounced, I sus¬
pect, without any clear conceptions of their true meaning.
Religious experience itself, is frequently judged of by a
wrong standard, and specimens of it have not seldom
been selected for imitation, which by no means deserved
such distinction. Indeed, if I do not greatly err, there
are more mistakes prevalent in some portions of the com¬
munity, as to the operations and signs of experimental
religion, than in regard to almost any other topic. It
may not be useless to dwell for a time upon some of
them.
1. In the first place, then, I have known persons,
thought by themselves and by their friends to be the sub¬
jects of experimental religion, whose dispositions and
pursuits would hardly have been different from what
they were, if the sense of God’s being and presence had
8
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
56
been quenched in their minds, and the future world had
been to them as a mere nonentity. I have seen them,
surrounded by ease and prosperity, and honored in
the elegant exchange of the courtesies of society, pass
through life in a sort of decent indifference to divine
things, and drop at last into their graves wi h scarce any
more vital religion than the animals had, that were
perishing around them. And yet these persons dreamt
of having experienced religion, because they professed it,
and attended to its forms, and talked about it, and re¬
commended it to their children.
2. In the next place, I cannot overlook an error,
the opposite to this, and one that has prevailed more
than most others in some parts of our land, giving birth
to all the disgustful forms of fanaticism, and securing to
coarse and violent men an unrighteous and fearful power
over uninformed and timid minds. I allude to the false
notion that true experimental religion is a feverish ex¬
citement, a paroxysm of passion, which must be produced
by extraordinary influences, and which must be sustained
by all possible abstractions from the accustomed pursuits
and pleasures of society. Let me not be misunderstood,
however. God forbid, that any one should infer from my
noticing this error in such terms, that I am the advocate of
coldness in religion. I allow, nay, I insist upon it, that
no subject should awaken the energies of the soul like
Christian truth. The only point to which I speak, is the
mistake, that there can be no genuine religious experi¬
ence without excessive heat and agitation ; a mistake,
which is not a rare one, and which is the cause that many
of the best disciples of Jesus are looked upon with sus¬
picion. I only refer to the fact, that there are exta-
cies which are merely animal, depending on the state of
57
EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.
9
the nervous system, and not always, nor indeed often,
the true indices of character; that they are frequently
found in persons of very little fixed religious principle,
but of irritable tempers; and that they are experiences
not only to be deprecated in all, but such as many most
excellent individuals have been, from the very consti¬
tution of their minds, the extent of their knowledge, and
the admirable discipline of their passions, utterly incapa¬
ble of undergoing.
3. A third error, that deserves to be noticed, is the
idea that religious experience, to be genuine, must be
connected with only one set of religious opinions. It is
not in my mind to affirm, that one’s experiences are not
at all affected by his opinions. I believe the contrary.
I believe that our religious exercises are very much modi-
p
fied by the doctrines we hold to be true. And I would
urge this fact as a motive to careful investigation, and as
a caution against cherishing any opinions that have a
hurtful tendency. Were I to descend to particulars in
this connexion, I would say, beware of the belief that
you were born with entire depravity of heart, lest it lead
you to charge your sins to your constitution,or your Cre¬
ator. Beware of the doctrine of moral inability, from the
fear that being persuaded you can do nothing, you con¬
clude you have nothing to do. Beware of the system
that inculcates vicarious satisfaction and substituted
righteousness, lest you be tempted to rely on foreign aid
for what alone can be done by yourselves. Beware of
false views of special grace, lest by waiting for miraculous
influence you put yourselves out of the way of experienc¬
ing religion at all. Beware of the prevalent notion about
the efficacy of a late repentance, for it may be, there is
no way of instantaneous regeneration from the con¬
fine of a sinful life to the gates of heaven.
10
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
58
These opinions, and such as these, one would suppose
must be unfriendly to practical religion, if any opinions can
be so. Yet how many persons who hold them, have we not
seen to be excellent Christians. And what should the fact
teach us? What but that light is light, through what¬
ever medium it struggles ? that the gold is not annihi¬
lated by its alloy ? that the gospel may effect its chief
purposes, though connected with much which does not be¬
long to ii? What, in a word, but that it is a mistake to
suppose, that genuine religious experiences are associated
with only one class of opinions ? Indeed, is there a sect
in Christendom that cannot boast of its saints? There
is, I am persuaded, enough of truth in the creed of every
Christian denomination to sanctify and save the soul, only
let that truth have its perfect work. Suppose that you
could not assent, in all its details, to the formulary of
faith adopted by any of the contending parties. Could
you not, for all that, experience religion ? Could you
not feel that God is wise and good, and that you owe
him your love and obedience ? Could you not be sensi¬
ble of your sins and repent of and forsake them ? Could
you not receive Jesus Christ as your Saviour, and pos¬
sess yourselves of his spirit, and endeavor to tread in his
footsteps ? Could you not be persuaded, and act from
the persuasion, that your Creator and Judge has so con¬
stituted the moral world that misery shall follow sin, and
happiness shall flow from holiness? Well, this, and
such as this, is religious experience; and it is what may
be found in every sect of Christians. It is, therefore,
% wrong to say that religious experience is necessarily con¬
nected only with the peculiar tenets of some one class of
Christian professors,
59 EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED. 1 1
4. Another error relating to the subject is, that true
religious experiences consist of the same exercises in all
thorough converts. There is, vve all know, a certain de¬
fined process prescribed in some books and sanctioned by
some churches, through which every one, of whatever
character, is required to pass before he can be recognised
as having experienced religion satisfactorily. There are
the same convictions for all, whether they have sinned
little or much, and there are the same agonies, and then
the same raptures. That this, however, cannot be correct,
seems to me obvious. It is impossible in the nature
of things for all persons to have precisely the same ex¬
periences, for all have not been alike vicious ; all do not
need equal reformation ; all are not susceptible of the
same impressions; all are not placed in similar sit¬
uations ; all have not the same opportunities nor the
same motives. Now, in view of such diversities, which
I think I may take it for granted no one will deny to
exist, who will say that all must, nay, that all can have
the same experiences 1 And who that knows any
thing of the subject, as he ought to know it, will have
it in his heart to condemn his neighbor, as unworthy
of his Christian fellowship, for not having gone through
the full course of his own spiritual exercises ? Dif¬
ferent individuals may be equally good Christians, and
yet their experiences may have been as unlike as their
persons. One may not be able to recollect the time
when he did not love God and man, and aim to do his
duty. Another may remember distinctly when he first
began to give his thoughts to divine things. Such being
of necessity the case, it is evidently a mistake to suppose
that religious experiences must be the same in all true
Christians.
12
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
60
5. One other error, which has been very fruitful of
evil, is that of those who seem to think and speak and
act as if to have once in their life undergone a change,
to have once passed through the process of regeneration,
constitutes an unquestionable passport to heaven. Per¬
sons of this description are not unfrequently to be met
with. They are sure they have been born again, and
this conviction, if not the whole of their experience, is
that on which they chiefly rely, as the evidence of their
final acceptance with God. Now, I do not say that
some may not at certain seasons have felt the power of
religion in a very peculiar manner. Nor w T ould I speak
contemptuously of those extraordinary emotions, to which
such, as have enjoyed them, delight to recur. But that
the sensations of any one time, however peculiar they
may have been, should be all, or the greater part, of the
ground of the Christian’s hope, seems to me to be not
only an error, but a very dangerous one. And it is so,
among other reasons, because the feeling of security and
confidence, which it produces, blinds one to the neces¬
sity of continual circumspection in subsequent life, and
thus the chief motive of future exertion is taken away.
The true doctrine, relative to religious experiences, in
this respect, is, that we should be content with none that
are past, but should be perpetually seeking for new and
better ones. The well disciplined Christian has religious
experiences every day ; and it is from a patient continu¬
ance in them, and from this alone, under God, that he
derives the hope of inheriting the promises made to the
faithful.
But it must be painful to my readers, certainly it is
so to me, to dw’ell upon the misapprehensions of our fellow
men in respect to so sacred a subject, as that which is before
61
EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.
13
us. I therefore pass by unnoticed some others, that occur
to me as very common, though less injurious than those I
have mentioned, and ask your attention, while I attempt
to state to you, at considerable length, what I deem to be
that genuine religious experience, which, as the Apostle
says, and as Unitarians believe, produces the hope that
will not disappoint us.
III. What, then, is genuine religious experience ? its
nature ? its characteristics ? I may partly answer the
question, by asking another. What is genuine experience
in respect to other subjects ? What is literary experience ?
What is agricultural experience 1 What is mercantile
experience ? To these questions there is no difficult an¬
swer. Every one knows that, by experience, when the
term is used in these connexions, is meant, the result of
the practical application of principles appropriate to these
connexions. Or it means the knowledge, skill, devoted¬
ness, and satisfaction, derived from reducing what belongs
to the theory of these different sorts of business to practice.
Now, precisely the same kind of answer is to be given
to the question, what is religious experience. Religious
experience is the result of the practical application of
religious principles, or, it is the knowledge, skill, de¬
votedness, and satisfaction, derived from reducing what
belongs to the theory of religion to practice. Accord¬
ingly, we may be said to experience religion just in pro¬
portion as, by employing our thoughts upon it, our minds
are enlightened and ennobled; as, by setting our affec¬
tions upon it, our hearts are interested and sanctified,
and as, by acting from it, our habits of life become ho¬
lier and stronger. Or, to express the same thing in fewer
words,—religious experience is the fruit of the principles
of religion faithfully applied to the mind, the heart,
VOL. III. 2
14
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
62
and the life. To be complete and satisfactory, it
must have these three relations. If it fails in respect to
either, it is so far defective, and lessens proportionably
the grounds of Christian hope. Let us dwell a little on
religious experience in the three relations I have men¬
tioned.
1. I have said that religious experience is the fruit
of the principles of religion faithfully applied to the
mind. It is what the understanding, the reason, all the
intellectual faculties, are concerned with. Indeed, here is
the source of the religion of the heart and life. Without
knowledge, there could not be any religious experience.
But I wish to confine myself now to the effects of religion
on the mind alone. I would have it understood, that in
embracing Unitarianism, we do not burden ourselves with
a cumbersome apparatus, which perplexes and retards,
instead of facilitating, the operations of intellect. Reve¬
lation, as we view it, was not designed to limit reason,
but to call it into new and better exercises. Our sys¬
tem is suited, above all others, we think, to develope,
strengthen, and ennoble the mental faculties. Till it
does this, we say its work is not accomplished. I cannot
insist upon this efficacy of God’s truth on the mind too
strongly. I fear it is not duly estimated. Religion has
been placed too much in creeds and too little in thought.
It has served to darken and belittle the soul, when it
should have illumined and enlarged it. God gave it to
make the mind free and strong ; but man, in his igno¬
rance or his folly, has forged fetters out of it, by which
the mind has been cramped and made impotent as a
child’s. Let it be so no more. Let not the whole men¬
tal existence be shrunk and shrivelled into the dimen¬
sions of a party system, tolerable only in times long since
G3
EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.
15
gone by. Do not think, in your manhood, to wear the
swaddling bands of your infancy. Assert, and enjoy,
that liberty wherewith Christ hath made you free.
There is a freedom of thought, an enlargement of view,
an elevation of soul, a perpetual putting forth of its facul¬
ties upward and onward, towards God and heaven,
which nothing gives but a pure religion, and which we
cannot value too highly. Yes, and the mind that has
been brought to this state of activity and lofty aspira¬
tion, is as much superior to common minds, in respect
to all that truly exalts human nature, as the most cul¬
tivated intellect in civilized society is to that of the rudest
savage of the forest. I do not know of a better word to
express the immediate cause of this sort of mental experi¬
ence, than the old scriptural word— faith —an enlightened
faith in the divine perfections and purposes, as revealed
by Jesus Christ. I use the term, however, in no restricted
sense. I mean not by it, a mere belief in this or that doc¬
trine, which the contending sects make the topic of un¬
ceasing controversy. But I mean by it, that all-compre¬
hending principle, call it a sentiment, or a convic¬
tion, or what you will, which implies confidence and
trust in the power, wisdom, and goodness of Almighty
God; which preserves the faculties open to the light of
the divine communications, through whatever medium
they may come; which keeps up a strong and steady
current of thought towards the Infinite and Eternal ;
which gives to the words of Jesus an authority that
belongs to the teachings of none other than a divinely
commissioned messenger from the Universal Father ;
which is constantly arming conscience with new power,
and enduing the soul with fortitude to bear up under any
trial, and giving courage to tread down temptation in the
16
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
64
way of duty, and ensuring the ready consecration of every
faculty to the known requisitions of God’s will.
Such I conceive to be genuine religious experience, in
respect to the human mind. This is what, as Unitarian
Christians, we should aspire to. We are not to rest satis-
lied, till it invests the thought of God with absolute power
over every other thought; till it makes the future predomi¬
nate habitually over the present; till it clothes the know¬
ledge imparted by the Saviour with an importance, which
no other knowledge possesses ; till it renders nature, pro¬
vidence, and scripture, continually tributary to the trea¬
sures of our wisdom ; till it gives every day new impres¬
sions of the dignity of our nature, and higher views of its
capacity for improvement; till it seems, indeed, to create
new faculties within us; till it enables us to look upon the
divine works with an eye that shall discern fresh beau¬
ties at every successive glance ; till, in a word, it reveals
to us God in every thing good, and every thing good in
God.
2. I have said that religious experience is the fruit of
the principles of religion faithfully applied to the heart.
Unitarianism is by no means a system adapted only to
the intellect. We are not the philosophical pupils of a
master who asks for the service of the mind alone. Ours
is a religion in which the affections are concerned.
Though our experiences do have their source in know¬
ledge, and must be always guided by reason, yet they are
not to be marked with coldness. We hold that the
man, whose religious exercises are confined to the frigid
region of his understanding, has taken but some of the
first steps in the Christian course. ‘Give me thine heart,’
is the divine injunction ; and this, we know, we must
give, or our experience worketh not the hope of the gos*
65
EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.
17
pel. Feeling is as important as conviction. Affection is
as essential to true piety as it is to true friendship. Who
would take from this its glow ? But you might as well
do it, as deprive religion of its warmth, by restricting it to
the cold province of the understanding. Mistake me not,
however. The danger of insensibility is not all on the
side of the intellect. The affections, in religion, as in
everything else, may suffer from the meaner propensities.
They often do so in what are called revivals. There are
artificial excitements, there are impressions on the senses,
not on the soul, which exhilarate the system for a time,
and then bring on torpor and spiritual death. This
we must guard against as for our life. The spirit that
was created to attach itself to God and goodness, with
a pure, steady, unconquerable love, must not disappear in
carnal absorption ; must not subside into the mere physb
cal nature ; must not sink and sleep in the animal func¬
tions ; must not be rocked and lulled into lethargy by
the bodily movements. It must ever be a living, ac¬
tive, holy spirit, full of love for its Creator and its duty.
Divine truth never accomplishes its full purpose, where
it does not both awaken and “cherish a devout and gen¬
erous sensibility. Did God reveal himself to us, do you
think, in the affecting character of a tender Father, only
to produce a conviction in our mind ? Did the blessed
Jesus speak and die, as never man spake and died,
only that his w r ords and example might be deposited in
our memory 1 Is the curtain raised for us that shut out
from the view of former generations the world of spirits,
merely that we might have new subjects of speculation 1
Oh ! no. The truths of our religion were designed to
touch the deep springs of human nature; and these are
in the heart. They were wisely so designed, be-
vol. hi. 2*
18
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
64
cause they are to rule in a soul, that is agitated by various
passions ; which, if not governed by something stronger
than themselves, will put to hazard its virtue and its
peace. Now to experience religion thoroughly, is to give
it complete control over these dangerous propensities of
our nature. I do not mean that the passions are to be
extinguished; but that they are to be so chastened down
and so directed, as that they shall be habitually on the
side of God and duty; performing their appropriate office
calmly and steadily indeed, yet with energy; preserving
an easy susceptibility of soul to every thing that comes
from and relates to the source of all good ; having ready
sympathy with all that is pure and excellent in human
beings, into whatever name they may have been baptized ;
and urging the whole man onward to new and still greater
attainments.
Such I understand religious experience to be, as it re¬
lates to the heart. As Unitarians, we are not to be con¬
tent with what our religion does for us, unless it quickens,
controls, and sanctifies the affections; unless it subdues
the inordinate love of the world by kindling up a nobler
love within us ; unless it creates a dread of sin, stronger,
ay, stronger, than the dread of death ; unless it awakens
desires after holiness as intense as the desire of life ; un¬
less it directs the full force of the affections to high and
worthy objects ; to God, to Christ, to holiness, to heaven.
3. I have said that religious experience is the fruit of
the principles of religion faithfully applied to the life.
No convictions, no feelings, are enough without this.
Unitarianism is eminently a practical religion. We be¬
lieve, that he who doeth righteousness, and he alone, is
truly righteous. We hold, that the perfection of Chris¬
tian experience is the actual consecration of the thoughts
67
EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.
19
and affections to God, in that way of well doing, to
which the finger of God, in his providence, every day
points. We have not perfect sympathy with any who
confine their religion to particular seasons and localities.
We say it is of little worth, unless it accompanies men
into their ordinary pursuits, and causes its influence to be
felt in the diversities of innocent and useful occupation.
Religion and business, we maintain, are not separate in¬
terests. The duties of the Christian are not distinct
from the duties of the man. The narrow way to heaven
runs directly through the busy scenes of the world. The
substance of religious service is moral service. The
moral man is the only thoroughly experienced Christian.
From this it will doubtless be inferred, that I regard
much which passes in the world for religion as false.
And certainly I wish it to be so inferred. There is a
religion of places, which I call local religion. There is
a religion of times, which I term periodical religion.
There is a religion of ordinances, which I name ritual
religion. There is a religion of passion, which I denom¬
inate feverish religion. There is, too, a verbal reli¬
gion, a party religion, a controversial religion, a sensual
religion. But what is it all worth, if it be no more than
this 7 What is it all worth, if it does not improve the
life 7 Believe me, true religion is never divorced from
true morality. As much as we have of this, we have
of that, and no more. They cannot exist separately.
The value of our experiences is to be estimated, not
by the devotions of the Sunday, but by the doings of the
week; not by what we seem to be at church, but by
what we are at home, and in the places of our traffic.
Our religion, if genuine, will go with us wherever we
go, and dwell with us wherever we dwell, drawing us
20
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
68
into closer intimacy with our God, multiplying and
strengthening the ties that bind us to the wise and
good among men, and preserving us unspotted from the
world. Christianity seeks to commend and dignify the
common pursuits of men, not to disparage them. It is
into the domestic, social, and business character, that it
was designed to carry its purifying, controling, and en¬
nobling power. Indeed, it is upon the broad altar of so¬
ciety that our most acceptable sacrifice is offered up to the
universal Father. Those prayers are best received above,
which ascend from men, whose hearts are pledged and
whose hands are consecrated to the good of their fellows.
Thus, our religion is social and practical; social
and practical, both in its nature and its effects. Of
this character must be our experiences, if we would have
the hope that t { maketh not ashamed.’ We expect to be
saved, not by being drawn by our faith from our appro¬
priate offices in the ordinary pursuits of society, but by
being sanctified by it in the very act of fulfilling them.
Therefore it is, that Unitarianism is never heard bid¬
ding the domestic to leave her employment in order
to enjoy her religious impressions, or the mechanic
to sit down in indolent musings because he has become
pious, or the merchant to forsake his business that
he may nurse his experiences. Oh no. We would, in¬
deed, persuade all to renounce the world, with re¬
spect to its false principles, its vicious spirit, and its
harmful pleasures. But we would persuade all, at the
same time, to regard the world, while they live in it,
as the place of their noblest Christian achievements ; as
the scene arranged by Providence, for activity, for trial,
and for the perfecting of the character. There, is the
post assigned to every man by his Creator. It were
cowardly, not to say unchristian, to forsake it.
69
EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.
21
Am I told, by way of objection, that it is difficult to main¬
tain it amid the world’s exposures ? I know it is so. But
I know as well that it is more difficult to be a thorough
Christian in solitude. Unitarianism does not profess
to remove all difficulties from our path, though it does
enable us to surmount them. It is not indeed the easy
way of faith without works, of devotion without virtue, of
feeling without practical effort; and I thank God that it
is not. Difficulty is appointed to man in great kindness.
Our character would be weak and puny, if we had
nothing to struggle with and overcome. What is the
plant that grows up in the shade ? What is the moun¬
tain oak that has wrestled with the storm ? Even Jesus
Christ, had difficulty to encounter, and this too at every
step of his progress. But who will say that he did not
reap benefit from it ? The scriptures tell us, that he w’as
* made perfect through suffering. 5 And then, too, his re¬
ward was the greater for it. It was ‘ for enduring the
cross and despising its shame,’ say the same scriptures,
that he was exalted at the right hand of God. To the
Author and Finisher of our faith we are to look for a pat¬
tern. God has placed us in this world of virtuous men
and of vicious men, this world of toil and temptation, this
world of difficulty and sorrow, not that we should escape
from its trials and its duties ; but that we should be in the
midst of them, bearing ourselves manfully and religious¬
ly, and perfecting holiness, in his fear, by combating and
vanquishing the evils of our lot. Yes, it is in the world,
in the diversified relations of life, in the daily pressure
of multiplied pursuits, whether at home or abroad, in the
shop or in the field, in the office or in the mart, that the
reality of our religious experiences must appear; and
if it appears not there, it is in vain that it does so here.
22
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
70
He that is not a Christian in his common, every day
dependences and avocations, is not a Christian at all.
A man who is a tyrant in his family, or a knave in the
place of his business, or immoral anywhere, may talk
of his experiences, if he please;—but, let me tell him,
they have, in the sight of the omniscient God, no more
desert than the breathings of the winds, or the playings
of the sunbeams. Look then, to your life, Christians.
Here is the true test of the genuineness of your expe¬
riences. Other evidences may deceive you ; this never
can. Others may be misunderstood ; this bears signa¬
tures intelligible to men and angels.
IV. Thus, I have answered, as I was able, the ques¬
tion, what is religious experience? We perceive there
is no mystery about it. It is a plain, practical matter,
to which every one is competent, who will apply the
principles of God’s revelations according to the methods
of his appointment. What are these methods?
1. I take it upon myself to say, first, it is his appoint¬
ment, that we aim to make the thought, that we are able
to apply these principles so as to become the subjects
of experimental religion, one of our most familiar thoughts.
And I say this, because every page of his holy word ad¬
dresses us as free agents, capable of moral obedience,
responsible to him for our actions, and destined to re¬
ward or punishment according to our doings and charac¬
ter. Has God, then, given us the ability, and thus made
it our duty, to experience religion ? Let us not hesitate
to think that we can experience it. Here is the beginning
of every great achievement. That this is true in busi¬
ness, every one knows. It is true in religion. He who
imagines himself impotent, will be likely to be impotent
in fact. Form no low estimate of the power which your
71
EXPLAINED AND ENFORCED.
23
Maker has given you. It is ingratitude to the Giver to
despise his gifts. It paralizes effort to fancy that little or
nothing can be done. Think that you can do much, and
you will attempt much. I have small hope of him who is
always brooding over what he calls the worthlessness of
human nature. I have great hope of him, who, while he
thinks and speaks modestly of his attainments, believes
he has faculties given him by God for noble acquisitions.
2. In the next place, believing that we can expe¬
rience religion, we are to regard it as God’s appoint¬
ment, that we give attention to the subject. Nothing of
course is to be expected without this. Religious acquisi¬
tions are subject to the same law with other acquisi¬
tions. They demand that we apply our minds to se¬
rious, intense, and prolonged consideration of religious
topics. We may find the task a difficult one at first.
What then ? Do we not know that this is the case with
almost all new subjects? Have we not found the
same to happen in our worldly concerns? Yet, by
strenuous and repeated effort, have we not found the
repugnance to grow less and less, till at length we
came to be pleased with what before was irksome ? And
so it is in spiritual concerns. Let it be, that religion has
little attraction for us at first. This is not a sufficient
reason for abandoning it. We should rather force our¬
selves to contemplate it; should compel our wandering
thoughts to dwell upon it once and again ; should remem¬
ber that if we dismiss it now, because it does not suit our
taste, it will certainly return at last to suit our taste still
less, and perhaps to find us incapable of feeling its power
and enjoying its comforts. At the same time, we may as¬
sure ourselves, that, by persevering in efforts of attention,
we shall infallibly gain the mastery over our reluctant
24
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE, &,C.
7 ^
i **
thoughts, and finally shall come to love what, in the be¬
ginning, was a subject of indifference, if not of disgust.
3. Finally, in seeking to be the subjects of experimental
religion, we must consider it as God’s appointment, that
we use all the means which he has given us, adapted to
fix its principles within us, and to impart its spirit to our
conduct. These means are various. One of them is, to
avoid as much as possible the influence of profligate asso¬
ciates. Another is, to haVte nothing to do with books that
disguise impurity under the name of wit, and soften licen¬
tiousness by the coloring of fancy. A third is, to seize,
amid secular pursuits, every moment we can, for serious
reflections. Again, we must inquire of history for the
wisdom of the wise and the examples of the good, and ask
of nature and providence what they can teach us of the
divine character and purposes. It is, also, to be a settled
principle with us, to mingle our sympathies and devotions,
as we have opportunity, with those of our fellow men in
the temple of the Most High. Then, there are the holy
scriptures, which speak of the Father of all, of the Re¬
deemer, of heaven, of hell, and of man’s duty, to be read
and pondered. The ordinances of the church, too, are
the appointed helps to the perfection of our experiences.
There is prayer, moreover, that means of wonderful
efficacy—private and domestic prayer, which we are
no more to neglect than our daily food. An 1 last,
though not least, there is action—useful action, from
which, God has ordained, there shall come back to the
heart a quickening and sanctifying power, making that,
which is the purpose and end of the affections, also the
means of rendering them holier, stronger, and more effi¬
cient prompters of all the virtues.
1st Series.
No. 31.
THE
DANGER OF DELAY.
BY REV. WILLIAM WARE.
PRINTED FOR THE
3mmcan ©uttartan Rnnotlation.
BOSTON,
GRAY AND BOWEN, 135 WASHINGTON STREET.
1S29.
Price 5 Cents.
Boston :
Printed by Isaac R. Butts
25, School Street.
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
Boast not thyself of tomorrow.—PRov.xxvii. 1.
And yet, although this is the counsel of both reason
and scripture, and although every man if he thinks of
the matter a moment must be convinced of its wisdom,
how few practically regard it. Indeed, if there is any
one thing in which men seem most to agree, it is in
reversing this precept of Solomon,—boasting of to-mor¬
row—reckoning upon it. They are not in general, judg¬
ing by their conduct, more sure of to-day than they are
of to-morrow. They speak with as much confidence of
the business they shall transact, the journeys they shall
commence, the studies they shall pursue, the good or evil
deeds they shall attempt or complete on the morrow, as of
what they shall do to-day or the next moment. But the
wise man would rebuke this spirit. He would warn us
against the presumption of relying on to-morrow—or even
on another moment beyond the present, seeing the one,
strictly speaking, is as uncertain as the other. And we
must give to his language in the text, if we would receive
its true meaning, not a literal and narrow interpretation,
but understand him to speak of all future time under the
similitude of to-morrow. Boast not thyself, O, man ! he
4
THE DANGER OP DELAY.
124
would say, of that which is concealed behind the veil of
the future. Place not thy hope in its uncertainties. De~
fer not thy work of duty to opportunities that may never
arrive. Delay not to forsake thy sin and turn unto God,
thinking that when to-morrow dawns thou wilt be better
prepared. Postpone not an irksome task to the future in
the belief that it will then be pleasanter and easier.
Trust not to the deceptive language of the heart, that by
and by the heart and life shall be wholly and cheerfully
surrendered to God, but that now, there must be in¬
dulgence and ease, and devotion to other and pressing
cares. Centre all thy hopes, if thou wouldst be wise, in
to-day. Do now, what thou wishest to do, and which if
not done in season, thou knowest well, thy life will be a
burden, and eternity a terror. Now is thine, to-morrow
may never be.
Such is the true sense of the prudent king’s maxim.
It is a maxim not only of Jewish, but of Christian, of
universal morals.
.And it derives its importance, not wholly nor chiefly,
from any bearing it can have upon the transactions of this
world. It is indeed wise in the most inconsiderable af¬
fairs not to trust to to-morrow, for what can be done to¬
day. And in many of the dealings of man with man,
the heaviest losses and most grievous mischances have
overtaken him, because he was so stupid, or so thought¬
less. or so rash, as to put off to another day a labor that
should have been done now. Many a battle has been
lost, many a city surprised and sacked, many a house
burned to the ground, many a fair ship foundered or
wrecked, many a calamity for which there was no remedy
has overtaken individuals and communities, by deferring
125
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
5
till to-morrow, or even another hour, what was the busi¬
ness of the present moment. So that in its relation to
the prosperity of men and their welfare in this present,
world, it is important that a man do not reckon on to¬
morrow when to-day is in his hands. And it were
earnestly to be wished, that the indubitable sorrows and
distressing adversities, that come upon multitudes of those
who procrastinate in the things of this brief and transi¬
tory scene of our being, would but serve as lessons and
warnings, to make them active and seasonable in the more
momentous concerns touching the soul and its future
condition, and to teach them that consequences of woe,
dreadful beyond all comparison with what ever happen
on earth, will follow that fatal procrastination, that shall
defer to a day or hour too late the repentance and pre¬
paration, on which heaven and salvation depend.
It is of delay, as respects the imperishable interests of
the immortal soul, that I am now to speak. And it is
with reference to these interests, and the preparation for
the future life that Religion exhorts us in earnest and
solemn tones—trust not to—reckon not upon—defer not
till—to-morrow.
1. The work, which man has to do, is too great and too
important to bear postponement and be put upon the
hazard of such an uncertainty.
If this work of self preparation, which both sound
reason and -religion demand at our hands, were like
many of the petty concerns of this life, on which little
depends, and from which no solemn consequences flow,
it might, indeed, be put off, and oftentimes no evil ensue—
or none, but such as might be repaired. But I would
VOL. III.-NO. XXXI. 1 #
6
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
126
put it to the conscience of every reflecting man, if it be
such a work, if there be any to be placed in compari¬
son with it for its magnitude 1 And yet, there is no duty,
however insignificant, in the way of our daily calling, no
affair of business, that concerns our worldly interest, that
we so lightly defer to another day, as this which concerns
the soul and eternity. Though a man will, indeed, now
and then meet a heavy loss in his fortune, because he
loitered, or trifled, or stood still, when he should have press¬
ed swiftly on, yet generally, let there be a great object to
be accomplished, bearing on reputation, advancement, or
property, and the hour of action cannot come too soon,
and the work to be done cannot call for so much time
and industry and labor, as will stand waiting to be em¬
ployed, and he would no more delay to act, and in sea¬
son too, than he would to satisfy the crying wants of his
animal nature. But is it often so in religion ? Is it
often that we see this eagerness to embrace a present
opportunity—that we see men trembling lest to-day should
pass by and nothing be done for their peace ? Yet with
what reason might we tremble, when we think of what it
is which we have to accomplish, and the little time at the
very best that is given us for the work, and the danger
that ere it is half done, even if we labor with diligence,
death may surprise • us.
For what is this work of religion ? It is to prepare our¬
selves against the solemnities and final allotments of God’s
judgment day. Our minds, through all their powers and
capacities, are to be educated and filled with knowledge
both of human and divine things. Our desires, that so love
to rest on sensual and temporary things, are to be raised to
spiritual objects. Our affections are to be sanctified and
127
THE DANGER OF DELAA.
7
find their rest in Heaven. Our habits are all to be gained
over to the side of virtue. Our lives are to be made subject
to the universal rule of purity and integrity. If we have been
wanderers from God and slaves to sin, the task of repent¬
ance is to be begun and completed. If we are habitually
cold and earthward in our feelings, the heart is to be
warmed and lifted to Heaven. In a word, man—imper-
feet, erring, tempted, sinning man, is to fit himself by his
own efforts, by the effectual suppression and subjection of
what is evil in his nature, and the careful rearing and
perfecting of that which is good, for a joyful inheritance
of that glorious immortality that has through the mercy
of God been promised. And is this a work, considered
in any of its relations and aspects, that can be thought an
easy one, and be safely deferred to a more convenient
season ? Does it look as if it could spare any of the
time which God in his mercy allows us ? Is it so light a
task, that a day, or an hour, or the remnant minutes of a
wasted life will suffice for it 1 Truly, if we reflect upon
the circumstances of difficulty, which beset this whole
business, the extreme reluctance with which many per¬
sons are brought to think of it at all, the slowness and
heaviness of spirit, with which they move in the work if
they do enter upon it, the many times they go wholly
back to where they first started from, the hesitancy, luke¬
warmness, temporising, that accompany them all the way
through, if we think of the influence of the world, the
claims of business, and pleasure, and folly, of friends,
family, and society, the necessary calls of industry, and
the unnecessary and artificial ones of custom and fashion,
of the large draughts that sickness, pain, uneasy sensa¬
tions, trifling and foolish thoughts, and unavoidable inter-
8
THE DANGER OP DELAY.
128
ruptions make on the time and spirits,—if we think of
these things, we shall say and believe, that with these
hindrances and difficulties and the nature of the work com¬
bined, a day from the longest life God ever gives can be
but ill spared, and that he were twice a fool, who, if in his
heart he wished to do this work, postponed for a single
hour so urgent and mighty a task, which, if he were to
give to it his whole strength and undivided soul, he
could scarce in the longest life hope thoroughly to ac¬
complish. Oh, what amazing stupidity is there in most
of us, to think, knowing, as we do, what the gospel and
reason both demand of us to be happy hereafter, that we
can dose on through to-day, and to-morrow, and the next
week, and for another month, and another year, and that
then, time enough will be left to rouse up, and clear our
eyes,’and stretch our limbs, and begin the race. If there
is not a single post of duty or honor upon earth, in the
whole circle of human affairs, from which a man would
not be spurned with reproaches and contempt, if he
should be chargeable with one half the incorrigible dull¬
ness and unwillingness of which he is so often guilty in
the things that relate to his final salvation, what, I would
ask in all seriousness, can we reasonably look for at last
at the hands of a just God, but shame and exclusion, in
that we have trodden under foot in our indolence, or sin,
or mad devotion to other things, the promises of eternity 1
2. Again, count not upon this to-morrow, depend not
upon it, defer not thy work to it, for it may never come.
Thou knowest not what a day may bring forth ; and it
may bring forth death as well as life, pain and sicknes
and lassitude and imbecility as well as vigor, and strength,
129
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
9
and new returns of health. The dispositions, and pur¬
poses, and resolves, and aspirations of to-morrow—sup¬
posing it to come—may be as weak, and earthward, and
transient as those of to-day. Why not ? What is this
charm and promise that hangs about to-morrow, that it
should take all the worth and honor of life to itself?
Who has told us, that it is possessed of such strange
virtues, and abounds with such potent and blessed influ¬
ences, that the moment it has dawned all the darkness of
our minds will be dispelled, our inglorious sloth will
change to Christian zeal, and all the clouds of doubt and
error and fear will clear away ? But more than this; and
first of all, what right have we to reckon on the future ?
The arrows of death are flying thick through the air;
they are striking down on every side those who were, or
seemed to be, of as fair promise as ourselves, and how can
we tell that we may not be the very next victims ? Others,
we see, are taken off in the confusion of sudden fear
and an imperfect preparation,—their hands but just ap¬
plied to their task, their first prayer just leaving their lips,
in the beginning of their new life,—or else in the very
heat and pollution of their vices, in the folly of a raging
passion, or the impurity of a crying sin, or in the midst
of their drunken revels and low debaucheries, without a
moment’s warning to bring the spirit into a posture of
calmness and decency, befitting its awful state and its
approaching change. And if others are thus dealt with,
why not we ? Has a statute of exemption been taken
out ? Are we privileged and safe, where the rest are ex¬
posed to a common danger ? If we are not, as reason
tells us we are not, let us not live and act as if we were.
Let us not be so mad, as to stake on the contingency of
10
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
130
to-morrow*, or a following day, or even another year, the
infinite concernments of futurity.
But suppose we are spared till tomorrow—suppose we
have reached that late period of life, to which we deferred
the work of religion, at which we have resolved to repent,
and get the better of our sins, and give ourselves for the
remainder of our days to God and to the calm and holy du¬
ties of a religious preparation ;—suppose we have reached
this period, and our good purposes hold out, what have we
gained? I believe you will say, nothing has been gained,
and the loss has been great. For,
3. In the next place, the work which we have to do
increases in difficulty, in proportion as it is delayed.
It is notorious, and too plain to need any thing more
than a passing illustration, that they, who have put off the
task of repentance and religious preparation, have increas¬
ed the difficulty of doing what they intend ultimately to
do, with every day that has been added to their lives.
We are subject to the same laws in the acquisition oi
virtue or religion, as of other things. They who have
been brought up in ignorance, when on arriving at matu¬
rity—ashamed of, or lamenting their deficiencies—they
give themselves to the task of recovering lost time, find
the task heavy, and the labor insupportable ; for the mind
through long disuse has become dull and unapt to learn,
and the thoughts, unaccustomed to restraint and the nar¬
row confinement of a single study, grow weary and
wander away to the ends of the earth; and to one learn¬
ing at that advanced and unnatural age, the elements oi
knowledge are burdensome beyond endurance, or are dis¬
missed as unattainable. And so of any bodily art and any
131
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
11
intellectual science. But the operation of this law is
even more distinctly and fatally visible in morals and
•
religion. If the studies proper to youth become weari¬
some and cannot so much as be attempted in age, so in
morals and religion those habits of virtue or religion,
which were hated or resisted in the days of youth and
manhood, cannot be acquired in the later periods of life,
or with the difficulties of the task greatly increased. If
you see a man in old age striving to perform the feats of
youth—sitting down to a daily task—aiming to recover
bya severe discipline the worldly accomplishments, which
were neglected when young, you behold but a feeble
image of him, who has grown gray in the science of sin,
aiming on the sudden to love and cultivate habits of vir¬
tuous thought and action, and to find in heavenly contem¬
plations and the love of God that joy and repose, so need¬
ful under the privations and weaknesses of the closing
years of life.
When a man defers the labor and duty of repentance
from day to day and from year to year, he little thinks
how he is arming with new means of resistance the
foe, with whom he still purposes one day to contend.
When a man simply postpones his more religious pur¬
poses, when, living a life of religious indifference and
insensibility, he yet determines at some future time to
rouse up to the love of virtue and excellence, and aspire
after a likeness to the children of God, and in the mean
time plods on in the same old way of religious apathy
and unconcern, waiting for a convenient season, he too
little considers that by the course he takes, every day re¬
solving, and every day breaking his resolutions, he is hard¬
ening his heart and blunting his sensibilities, so that by
12
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
132
the time old age arrives he will find himself wholly indis¬
posed to, as well as incapable of, the long deferred duty.
But however little these things may be considered, they
are fatally true, and in this view the danger of delay can¬
not be overrated. He who thus reckons on to-morrow is
treasuring up for himself inevitable and bitter disappoint¬
ment ; he is relying on that which will deceive him with
the treachery of a rotten staff. He who imagines that
the future will find him better disposed to do a disagreea¬
ble and painful duty than the present, is like one, who
thinks that the pain of an amputation will be less to-mor¬
row than to-day, and so defers it, while the disease gathers
head by the delay. What reason can the sinner find to
convince him, that sin will grow more hateful when the
sun has once more risen and set, or has done so twenty
times, than it is now ? And what shall occur to-morrow
to give vigor to those resolves, which to-day are weaker
than the purposes of a child ? Only let him for one mo¬
ment remember the past and its experiences, its long
series of irresolute acts and transient resolutions, and ho
will feel that all such reliances on the future are delusions
to lure him on in the way that leadeth unto death. He will
feel that the sinful habits, which youth rooted deep in the
•
soul, are not so easily thrown off and subdued. Alas!
what habits are like those of sin, for strength ? what
J O
bonds like the bonds of sensual indulgence ? what fetters
and manacles like the soft and silken ones of pleasure 1
Who is known to escape from them, that has lain bound a
willing slave, drunk in pleasure, dissolved in effeminacy,
till age has once crept over his frame and sent its feeble¬
ness into the mind ? What to-morrow of hope is there to
such a one ? He may indeed weep and bemoan his sad
133
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
13
captivity, and wish in his heart that he were free ; but
his moral force is all gone out of him, and while he
loathes and detests them, he hugs the chains that bind
him, and twines them round and round his dishonorable
limbs. And though by a mad and desperate effort, in the
sudden energy of a virtuous purpose, he may for an
instant leap clear of his shackles, he is soon seen, the fire
of sin unquenched in his eye, posting back to the beloved
haunts of forbidden joys, and fitting to his limbs one by
one the fetters he had so lately broken in pieces. Con¬
sider the drunkard, the sensualist, the debauchee, look
into their lives, and confess that their progress and their
fate are like this. Where shall we search for the reformed
rake, the reclaimed libertine, the cleansed and purified
sot ? Who has found their tastes to be refined and
exalted by age ? When has it happened, that, oppressed
by the imbecilities of a premature old age, they have then
taken upon themselves the toils of virtue and died its
sincere votaries? Let us believe then, if we are content
to abide by the truth, that the task which we have to per¬
form increases in difficulty with the degree in which we
postpone it, that sin gathers strength and winds about us
its cords the closer, the longer we continue in her service,
that the life of religion appears the more irksome and
hateful the longer we hesitate to begin it, and if old age
still find us in sin, that the duties of that life will become
impracticable. To-day, then, if ye will hear the voice
that cries to you, harden not your hearts ; but open them,
lay them bare to the influences of the Gospel. Think of
the issues that hang on the present life ; remember that
each one for himself, through the blessing of God, is the
founder and builder of his salvation. Let it not then be
VOL. hi.—no. xxxi. 2
14
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
134
owing to delay, to stupid procrastination, that you should
fail to ensure it.
4. Defer not till to-morrow—because from the very na¬
ture of virtue or religion, consisting as it does in esta¬
blished habits, fixed dispositions and biasses of the soul,
a very long time is requisite for its growth and maturity,
and the least delay may be attended by fatal consequen¬
ces. True religion or virtue, when it reigns within as it
ought, has the whole circle of the desires, affections,
appetites, passions subject without the feeblest show of
resistance to its strictest law T s. All man’s habits are then
right, all his emotions holy, all his thoughts pure and
heavenward. So supreme is his regard for the will of
God, so exalted his reverence of his own nature, that none
of the temptations of life have power to lead him into
sin. He obeys not from constraint but through love.
Virtue is his happiness. He has so disciplined his na¬
ture, so denied and subdued the sensual tendencies of
his frame, that an unruffled calm reigns in his soul, which
no notions of sin ever disturb. Such is virtue or religion.
And is it the w T ork of a day ? Does this universal sub¬
jection of the man to the control of the very highest prin¬
ciples of conduct and of thought, imply a moral toil of light
import, which can be gone through at a moment’s or a
day’s notice—especially when we take into view the
amazing strength of human passion, and circumstances
of danger and difficulty into which men are so often
thrown ? If such is religion, can it come in obedience
to a few earnest desires? Will a few washes detain it?
Will it come in answer to a prayer ? Will tears buy it?
Can groanings purchase it ? Will a wdiole life of indo-
135
TIIE DANGER OF DELAY.
15
lent musing ensure it 1 Will raptures, or extacies, or
frantic cries, tumultuous emotions, excited feeling, ima¬
gined visions, momentary sensations, sudden and tran¬
sient, give us warrant of it ? Not in the least—not in
the least, you will say. Then , it might be left till to-mor¬
row. Then , a day or an hour might be more than enough
for its most perfect attainment. We might give to-day
and to-morrow to pleasure, and the world, and our lusts,
and count upon some future and remote hour, and feel
safe, though the work were deferred to our dying bed.
For that which consists in a simple emotion, or act of the
mind, can be accomplished in a moment as well as in a
life, in sickness as well as in health, on the bed of death
as well as in the active scenes of life and duty. JBut if
religion is not of this nature, if it is what it has just been
described to be, then the delay which shall postpone the
commencement of so great and desirable a work, so much
as another day, may be fatal to us.
If, for instance, our hostility to virtue is great, and our
desires are wayward, and our minds sensual, and our af¬
fections earthly and depraved, the labor and time necessary
for our conversion in all these particulars will be great;
a whole life of earnest and undivided effort—with some
natures—may not be enough to ensure and complete it.
How dangerous to put off the beginning of the work from
day to day and year to year, as multitudes of the world so
thoughtlessly and madly do ? Even if the work of religion
in our case be much easier than this, suppose we are only
cold and indifferent, not given to vice, but not in love with
virtue, not the votaries of excess and slaves to sin, but not
stretching on toward perfection, not lovers of God, willing
to go through the world in a course of dull and sluggish
16
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
136
obedience, as if we wished merely to escape by this mid¬
dle path some great and threatened evil; suppose this
is our case, and we are at length awakened to a sense of
its danger, and desire with the whole soul to begin the
work of life ; is this either the work of a day, the easy
labor of a few months or years even ? And could he be
wise, who with a solemn purpose of salvation in his heart,
should dare to put it off till to-morrow, or a more conve¬
nient season ?
5. Postpone not, the work of religion or virtue till
to-morrow, or some uncertain future time, because it may
then lose its value.
What can be the worth of that surrender of the mind
to God, which is deferred to the last possible hour ?
If we would know what value to put upon the service
of a friend or servant, which after a long and vexatious
delay he has at length done for us, or tried to do, w T e must
know the reasons of his delay. If we would appreciate
the value of a son’s obedience, of his return to duty, we
must know why he went astray, and why at length, after
long indulgence in riotous living, he comes back to his
father’s house. And so in religion, and in relation to the
eternal happiness of the soul, if we would know the pre¬
cise value in the sight of God of that devotion to him and
his will which, after long delays and much backwardness
and reluctance, we do at length in the decline of life and
decay of nature see fit to render him, we must inquire
honestly and severely, why it was so long deferred, why
so many years were given to sin, and why it is that the
remaining few are so anxiously and tremblingly given to
God.
It may not be positively affirmed, that the work which
137
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
37
has been deferred to the last, will in every instance be
rejected as valueless; God is merciful, and the reasons
of delay, if not valid ones, may yet be of some weight as
arguments of extenuation. But it may be said, and we
cannot help thinking that it will prove so, that the vast
proportion of those who either sleep during these precious
hours of labor, or give themselves to pleasure and sin, or
in the midst of a busy life forget the soul and its Maker,
when they at last, in the closing scene of life, rouse up,
and bethink themselves, and begin in haste to do this
great and then accumulated task, will find that they are
too late, that the chance is gone, the opportunity has
slipped away, the day is spent, the night at hand, and
there remains nothing for them at the best but the trem¬
blings of fear, and the agonies of doubt and despair.
Yet there may be reasons, which shall satisfactorily
account for the delay of the work of religion and the
soul’s late approach to God. They, for example, who
do not early know their duty as religious beings, cannot of
course do it early; or it maybe no wonder and no fault that
it is delayed to a late hour. “How,” says an apostle, “ shall
they call on him in whom they have not believed, and
how shall they believe in him of whom they have not
heard V 9 And there may be many standing in this pre¬
dicament—of an unavoidable ignorance of God and their
duty—beside'those who literally live beyond the sound of
the gospel. The Heathen have not heard the sound of
the gospel, for it has not gone out to them. But there
are many within the reach of our hands, if we will stretch
them out, as ignorant of God and the provisions of grace
in his Son, as they who live by Nile and Ganges—and
vol. hi.—no. xxxi. 2*
18
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
138
little, if at all, more blameable for that ignorance. Consider
the miserable wretches, who fill the cellars and the gar¬
rets in all the lanes and alleys of a large city, who first
drew their breath in those sad abodes, and hearing and
knowing nothing of God, and having no examples before
them but those of fraud, and violence, and profane ness,
and impiety, grew up from their infancy in the love and
relish of sin, and reached a full blown maturity in it, be¬
fore ever one thought went upward to the Creator, or there
was a single consideration started in the soul about its
value and destination ; consider the multitudes through¬
out Christian nations and communities, who endure the pri¬
vations of an extreme poverty, the evils of that wandering
outcast life brought upon them by the force of circum¬
stances and the inscrutable appointment of Providence, or
by an early imprudence and improvidence inherited from
parents worse than themselves ; consider all these, and
their imperfect opportunities of arriving at a knowledge
of the nature and demands of religion, and we may be¬
lieve, that the mercies of God will be large enough to
receive and own them, though at the very last hour they
should cast themselves down at his footstool in the sor¬
rows and prayers of a heart-breaking repentance. These
are they, who in the midst of an ignorant, a thoughtless,
a dissolute life, roused by some fearful providence, are
suddenly converted from their wicked ways ; have their
minds opened to new views of life and the purposes of
God, and give themselves to him in a ready and sincere
service. These are they, who even at the last hour of life,
having then first of all a knowledge of divine things
spread out before them, do on the instant eagerly embrace
it, weeping that the golden opportunity had not sooner
139
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
19
been offered, and showing that had it been, it would have
been gladly seized. These are they, who thus turning to
God for the first time on their dying beds, may hope to
find in him a compassionate judge.
But let not this afford encouragement to the sinner,
who has long and wilfully persevered in the way, which
he was a thousand times told, and himself knew, would
end in death. They who live in the knowledge and enjoy¬
ment of Christian truth their lives long, and sabbath
after sabbath hear the great points of religion and duty
stated from the oracles of God, and are long purposing a
good life, but never find an hour for anything but world¬
liness and sin, and are thus at last surprised and taken
off to their account in the terrors of an unprepared state,
cannot, on grounds of reason or of scripture, hope for the
mercy extended to the others. These are among the ha¬
bitual slighters and despisers of the word and will of God,
and for them nothing remains but a fearful looking for
judgment. Virtue and acceptance lie in listening to and
embracing the salvation as soon as proffered, whether
early or late. This shows the child of God and the dis¬
positions of Heaven. But for those who have always
known of the nature and obligations of religion, have
always basked beneath the light of two revelations, but
have not thought it worth their while to turn their
thoughts to such subjects, have cast from them their
present consideration, thinking that there will be time
enough at the end of life to answer all the claims of reli¬
gion, and that in the mean time they will keep on in the
way of sin—it is noteasy to see what room for repentance
there can be in their case. They who thus deliberately,
and on set purpose, as it were, put off the duties and acts
20
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
140
of the religious life, and would never do them at all if
%
they could be safely avoided, have placed themselves
among those who are farthest from the kingdom of God,
against whom the door is shut. It is mournful to think
how large a proportion these constitute of the nominally
religious. For let all those, in a Christian community,
who are hating and putting far from them a religious life,
ask themselves why it is they do so, and they will find that
it is not because they are ignorant of God’s will, but
because they secretly purpose at last to change their cha¬
racter and conduct, to repent before they die, and thus
make an atonement for the evil they have done. Re¬
pentance at last they imagine will be cheerfully accepted,
and will wipe out all the guilt of the past. But they, who
go on sinning in this intention by and by to repent, are
they who never can repent. “ The very intention is a
fraud ; instead of being the parent of true repentance, is
itself to be repented of bitterly.”*
If all, who turned to God at last, were such as had at
the last hour of life their first knowledge of God and his
acquirements, then might all be received. But multi¬
tudes of those, who turn to him at the end of life, are
those who do so under far less worthy circumstances, so
that the value of that religion which they at length offer
is nothing or but little. What are some of those circum-
stances of delay which go so far to deprive repentance
and religion of their value?
When men grow religious through fear, their late return
to God through the influence of that motive has lost its
value. Such men will live without religion as long as they
* Paley.
141
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
21
dare, and then, when they think that their days are nearly
numbered,, and the patience of God, which they have
tried to the utmost, well nigh exhausted, and their case
is almost desperate, they begin to look to their souls’ con¬
cerns and betake themselves to their prayers and the
other holy duties, which are, as they fondly believe, in a
few months or days or hours to prepare them for heaven.
One man you will see giving all the strength of his pow¬
ers to the world and self-indulgence and the pursuits of
interest or sin, putting far from him, as a hateful thing,
the love and services of God, till God sends a messenger
to him in the shape of a deadly malady, or nature is worn
out and ready to drop in pieces, and then, that the world
is passing away from him and all that remains for him is
death and its consequences,—then you see him in haste
to dedicate himself to God ; then he would not for the
world delay an hour to begin his preparation for eternity,
the terrors of death are gotten hold upon him, ?md he
flies to God whom he dreads, and to the doctrines and
ministers of his religion which he has ever despised, for
succor and deliverance; and in the folly of a miserable
delusion persuades himself, that he shall not be abandon¬
ed to the darkness and death of that pit he has digged for
himself and cast himself into. But can you think very
highly of a religion like this ? Has it anything sound
or worthy or pure in it 1 Can you suppose it will avail
anything ? And is it not almost past belief, that men—
and in other things reasonable and wise men—should
come to be so besotted in what relates to their souls, as to
think that God will accept in them, and count to them for
righteousness, that conduct, of which if the counterpart
were manifested toward them by their equals or depend-
22
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
142
ants in the petty concerns of life, they would spurn and
reject it with indignation for its utter baseness and in¬
gratitude and presumptuousness ? Such converts as these
are no converts. These are not they who are received at
the eleventh hour. These are they, who, we should -sup¬
pose, reasoning from analogy and scripture, would be re¬
ceived at no hour. For they are no fitter for heaven, by
any preparation which in an hour, a day, or a month they
can have made for it, than they were before their repent¬
ance began. No virtue has been seated in the soul. No
length of days and of trial has shown them to be immove¬
able in the rooted accomplishments of the Christian.
This were impossible. Their Christian and heavenly
practice has confessedly been nothing. And as for their
dispositions, they are of no more value. They are like
the sorrows of a man that he has been a thief or a mur¬
derer, who is then for the first time sorry, when the judge
utters his sentence of condemnation, or he stands upon
the scaffold and the executioner is fitting to him the in¬
strument of a shameful death. He bewails the unhappy
issue of his bad life, and he is sorry therefore that he
lived it; he fears to die in agony, and in that proportion
is he sorry for his crimes. But the chance is many times
more than equal, that if he were saved from the death,
he would go back again to his old practices. We know
it to be so very often in regard to those who suffer the
lesser punishments of the law, imprisonments and other
penalties. When the punishment is withdrawn, their
sorrow, if they felt any, stops, and they fall again into
their former courses. And so the sinner, who repents at
last wholly through fear,—because death stares him in the
face,—may not feel any confidence, that were the threat-
143
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
23
ened sentence suspended, he would not sink back into
the pollution of his former vices.
What, then, is the intrinsic value, and the acceptable¬
ness with God, of that religion, that virtue, that repent¬
ance, to which we have resorted through fear ? I presume
to believe, that we all feel that they have no value at all,
or none which can be estimated. The only rule we have
to go by in the case is against its being worth anything.
The son, the friend, the servant, the prisoner, who re¬
pents under the influence of fear, and acts well for a time
under its felt restraints, we cannot and do not trust. He
must act w r ell for a long period with this motive withdrawn ,
before he can be trusted. But in the case of the sinner,
with the fear of death before him, this withdrawal is not
supposable or possible ; he dies in this fear; and who
will dare to believe in, or trust to the sincerity and worth
of, such repentance 1 It may indeed have that value,
which sorrow for sin always has. But it can have no
more. And we know from experience how little that is
apt to be.
There is one other circumstance which tends greatly
to deprive a late surrender of the soul to God of its
value ; which is, that it may have been put off till tempta¬
tion has lost its power, sin its charms, virtue its difficulty,
and the mind turns to virtue and heaven, not because it
loves them, but because its old and long accustomed
pleasures have ceased to give any satisfactions, through
the exhaustion and decay both of body and mind.
Yet it must not be inferred, that there cannot be virtue
without great difficulties to meet and overome. Diffi¬
culty increases the lustre of virtue, but is not essential to
it. Many, there cannot be a doubt, pass through life
24
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
144
with natures so calm and even, that they accomplish the
work of life well and with ease. They feel few T tempta¬
tions to vice. They live in pureness on earth, and then,
when the end comes, they are fit for their translation.
The virtue of such has all the value their nature admits
of, and all, therefore, that will be exacted. It would not
weigh in equal balance with that, which has overcome
bitter and unremitting opposition from nature within and
circumstances without. The virtue must ever be most
exalted, that has most to contend with; which is saved,
yet as by fire.
The noblest offering, accordingly, which religion ever
receives, or that is laid upon the altar of God, is when,
in the words of the Apostle, “ the body is presented a
living sacrifice, holy and acceptable before God”—not
after it has become dull and dead through the imbecilities
of age, or incapacitated both for virtue and vice by disease
and decay,—but w T hen it is full of the high flush and
fiery spirits of youth and manhood, when the passions
and desires are in their strength, when the by-paths of
sin seem full of tempting pleasures and strewm w r ith
flowers, and it implies something that these forms of sin
are withstood, these strong and impetuous desires
are denied and restrained, and the soul surrendered
to God in a severe and constant obedience. This is the
purest and noblest offering religion ever receives, and
when it is this that w r e bear up the steps of the altar, it is
better than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices, better
than all faith, and penance, and pilgrimages, and the
whole catalogue of those painful services which supersti¬
tion ever pays.
But how different from this the sacrifice which they
145
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
25
offer, whose principle it has been to put off till to-mor¬
row, and the latest period possible, the work in which reli¬
gion and virtue consist. What weakness, what presump¬
tion, or what hardihood in man, to suppose that after the
energy and enthusiasm of his being have been consecrated
to sin and worldliness, God will accept those spiritless and
imperfect services, those dull and wearisome hours, ex¬
torted by fear, which he shall at last choose to present to
him. See if it be not so. One man, we will suppose, is,
during the busy periods of life, and while all his powers
are bright and vigorous, devoted to the pursuit of wealth—
innocently pursued, an innocent pursuit. But, unwilling
to regard himself as a religious being, casting away from
his mind every idea of accountableness, he is not scrupu¬
lous as to the means by which he secures his end. He
secures it, and rolls in wealth. Toward the end, or past
the middle of his days, he thinks it would be well, seeing
the present life must soon end, to look after the interests
of futurity. And now, that for the first time he reflects
upon himself and what he has been doing, he is amazed
at his folly and struck dumb in the recollection of his
wrong deeds and his ungodly life. Now that the desire
of wrongdoing has passed away, and that has been
secured for which it was resorted to, he begins to repent
of it. Now that the temptation to his besetting sin is
removed, he can abjure it and resolve to be virtuous. But,
can he feel sure that if fortune had not so soon favored
him, extreme old age or death itself—as our observation
of life shows often to be the case—would not have sur¬
prised him still practising the same dishonesties and
oppressions ? And can he feel much confidence or com¬
fort in his present virtuous purposes, in his present de-
VOL. III. — no. xxxi. 3
26
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
146
vout frame ? Is not the value of such late and forced
religion exceedingly little in every view of the case ? Does
not the absence of temptation and difficulty divest this
return of the soul to God of all, that clothes a voluntary,
cheerful and arduous virtue with the splendors of heaven,
and gives it the earnest of an eternal recompense ?
And so w 7 ith those wffio have been the slaves of sensual
indulgences. What can be the worth, or sincerity even,
of that repentance which is offered to God, not till after
the cup of pleasure has been drained and its dregs are
found to be distasteful and bitter ; not till the course of
sin has been run, and w r eariness and satiety have succeed¬
ed ; not till every wicked and w r orldly desire throughout
a long life has been unhesitatingly gratified, and the soul,
then jaded and worn out, its passions dead, its desires
asleep, thinks to give itself to virtue and God, and now 7
that earth can no longer be enjoyed, make the best pre¬
paration it can for heaven ? But is this anything ? Is it
anything to love virtue, w 7 hen vice is no longer tempting ?
To deny an appetite, w hen it no longer solicits ? To live
temperately, when the palate has lost its relish ? To give
yourself to contemplation and devotion, when decrepitude
ties you to your seat ? To turn from the world, when the
world has first turned from you; and when the strength
and vigor of life have been given to sin, to devote the few
remaining days of weakness and fear, when you can do
nothing else, to piety and penitence ?
Let us not then wickedly reckon upon to-morrow.
Let us not defer to the last hour of a life devoted to the
very opposite objects and pursuits, the work of heaven’s
preparation. If our previous life had thrown no addi-
147
THE DANCER OF DELAY.
57
tional obstacles in the way, it would be wholly chimerical
to think of cultivating and rooting in a few months, or
days, or years, at the end of life, the difficult habits of a
universal Christian virtue, hut with the evil habits and
biasses of three or four score years first to contend with,
to unsettle and eradicate, and then the further task of
creating in the soul a disinterested and lofty love of what
for so long a period it has hated—this seems wholly im¬
practicable ; or at least demands the strength of a moral
Hercules; and few therefore may be supposed equal to
its accomplishment.
Let us try to save ourselves from the delusions, that are
so apt to mislead and ruin us in relation to this whole sub¬
ject. Men seem obstinately bent on the belief, that they
may live as they please the first part of their lives, and
that by and by, when they come to die, will be time
enough to repent. They will sin on through life, or at
least live without God in the world, and then in the end
as an atonement, they will be sorry for it, beg pardon of
the Being whom they have offended, and drown them¬
selves in the tears of penitence; going on the vulgar
idea, that their habits and propensities and tastes will
change with their desires and their wishes, and that re¬
ligion consists in a scries of emotions and feelings which
may be had at the latest hour, instead of fixed habits,
settled dispositions, voluntary preferences ; not consider¬
ing too, that if they have lived in opposition to God's
will and their own convictions of duty here , there can be
no reason why they should not persevere in the same
course, and prefer it too, if God should permit them to
live again and afford them further opportunities of im¬
provement. This is an awful consideration to him who
'28
THE DANGER OF DELAY.
148
xlies without established habits of virtue, without a reign¬
ing desire to obey God, namely, that he may experience
the same dislike of such habits hereafter as now, and
♦then, supposing it to go on so, what shall become of him ?
Pity is it that we.cannot bring ourselves to believe,
what is so fatally true, that we shall feel the same indis¬
position to be virtuous and deny our lusts to-morrow that
we feel to-day, and the succeeding dav as to-morrow, and
ten vears hence as now. It is ever to-morrow, and to-
morrow, and to-morrow, or, on my next birth day, or, the
beginning of the next year ; and when those days come,
there is the same backwardness in the soul to do this
great and pressing work, and it is again deferred. “ Now
is the accepted time and the day of salvation.” The
true Christian knows not of to-morrrow. He does not
acknowledge it in his calendar of time. It is the grave
of holy resolves and good purposes, the doomsday of the
soul, and he abjures it.
Let us not count on to-morrow, nor rely upon its op¬
portunities. Its offers, like those of a false friend, are
fair, exceeding fair; but they are treacherous, and will
fail us in our need. The work of religion, if it ever
begin, begins to day—never on the morrow.
1st Series
No.
ON
CHRISTIAN SALVATION
BY
BERNARD WHITMAN.
PRINTED FOR THE
American ©tattartau association.
BOSTON,
GRAY AND BOWEN, 135 WASHINGTON STREET.
1S30.
Price 6 Cents
This Tract was preached at the ordination of Rev. Stephen
A. Barnard, at Wilton, N. H. January 13,1830. The Society at
Wilton having requested it for the press, a few copies have been
struck off in the form of a Sermon; the phraseology has, however,
been but slightly altered.
PRINTED BY I. R. BUTTS....BOSTON.
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
What must 1 do to be saved?— Acts, xvi. 30.
Can a more important question be asked by sinful
mortals ? Do we not all admit its importance, when
we feel the compunctions of an accusing conscience ?
when we reflect on our deep depravity of heart and
life ? and when we consider our capacities for eternal
suffering or enjoyment 1 Do we not acknowledge its
importance, when we witness the awful ravages of wick¬
edness, in destroying whatever is dignified in humanity ;
whatever is useful in character; whatever is improving
in social intercourse; whatever is productive of happi¬
ness in domestic life, and whatever can give peace and
hope in the hour of death ? Are we not sensible of its
importance, when we behold the Son of the living God
laboring, teaching, suffering and dying to redeem us from
iniquity and wretchedness ? Are we not convinced of its
importance, when we contemplate the infinite love of our
heavenly Father, in sending his well beloved Son to
rescue us from our degradation ; in giving to him his
holy spirit without measure, and in qualifying him to be¬
come the Saviour of the world ? Let me then invite your
attention to the infinitely important subject of Christian
salvation.
4
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
172
I. What, then, is Christian salvation ? It is deliver¬
ance from ignorance, error and sin; and the possession
of Christian knowledge, virtue and piety. Perhaps I can
render this definition more clear by a familiar example.
Suppose then that a learned heathen now stood before
me ; one who worshipped idols; one who had heard of
Jesus, and believed him to be an impostor ; one whose
conduct was openly immoral. I undertake to convert
him to Christianity by rational argument and evangelical
motives. I first convince him of the existence of one
infinite Creator, Governor and Father. You perceive
that he would then be saved from his ignorance concern¬
ing the nature and perfections of the Supreme Being ;
as well as from the folly and darkness of idolatry. I next
convince him that Jesus of Nazareth is the divinely com¬
missioned Saviour of the world. You perceive that he
would then be saved from his erroneous opinions respect¬
ing the one Mediator between God and men; as well as
from an evil heart of unbelief. I further convince him
that if he would be a true Christian, he must obey the
instructions, imitate the example and imbibe the spirit of
the great Author and Finisher of our faith. When his
actions give evidence of a reformation of heart and life,
you perceive that he would be saved from his iniquities;
as well as blessed with a righteous and holy character.
When these things are accomplished, you must admit
that he has experienced Christian salvation.
Now from this illustration, you may learn four most
important gospel truths. First, that Christian salvation
consists in deliverance from ignorance, error and sin ;
and in the possession of Christian knowledge, virtue and
piety. Secondly, that this salvation takes place whenever
173 CHRISTIAN SALVATION. . 5
a person becomes a practical Christian. Thirdly, that so
long as any one continues a practical Christian, he is in
no danger of punishment. And fourthly, that divine
pardon can be obtained only by forming a Christian cha¬
racter. The truth of these four propositions, I will now
endeavor to prove, from reason, observation, and the
Scriptures.
1. I am first to prove that Christian salvation consists
in deliverance from ignorance, error and sin ; and in the
possession of Christian knowledge, virtue and piety. Look
then to the scriptural argument. Why was our Saviour
called Jesus ? * Thou shalt call his name Jesus; for he
shall save his people from their sins.’ Why did he appear
on earth ? ‘ The son of man is come to save that which
was lostlost in darkness, doubt and depravity. Why
did he commission Paul to visit the gentiles ? f To open
their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and
from the power of Satan unto God.’ Why did he give
himself a ransom for sinners? * To redeem us from all
iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous
of good works. 5 And who are the subjects of his saving
power ? ‘ He became the author of eternal salvation
unto all them that obey him. 5 If then a person is turned
from heathenism, to the service of the living God ; if he
is redeemed from his iniquities, and rendered zealous of
the good works of the gospel; he is surely saved from his
religious blindness and iniquity, and possessed of Chris¬
tian instruction and holiness. Many more passages of a
similar import might be quoted, but these are sufficient
to prove the truth of the first proposition.
2. I am secondly to prove that this salvation takes
place whenever a person becomes a practical Christian.
VOL. III.—NO. XXXIII. L*
6
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
174
Look again at the argument from revelation. What did
Jesus say to the penitent female who anointed his feet at
the house of Simon the Pharisee ? ‘ Thy faith hath
saved thee; go in peace . 5 Hath saved thee; not will
save thee at some future period ; but, hath even now se¬
cured thy salvation. His miraculous powers enabled him
to know that her repentance was sincere, that her reform¬
ation was commenced, and that her belief in his divine
mission would influence her to strive for Christian perfec¬
tion. What is the exhortation of Paul to his beloved
Timothy? ‘Be thou partaker of the afflictions of the
gospel, according to the power of God, who hath saved
us.’ Hath saved us; not will hereafter confer salvation;
but hath already saved us, by aiding us in becoming obe¬
dient disciples of Christ Jesus. What is his testimony
concerning God in his letter to Titus ? ‘ According to his
mercy he saved us . 5 He saved us. If he had before saved
them, their salvation could not be an event of futurity.
The same apostle makes these explicit declarations to his
converts. c We are saved by hope . 5 ‘ By grace ye are
saved . 5 Are saved! In both cases the salvation was
then experienced. This meaning is more strongly ex¬
pressed in the original. The literal translation is this —
we were saved by hope; by grace ye iverc saved. Thus
no doubt remains that he spoke of an event already passed.
Take one example from the epistle of Peter. 4 The like
figure whereunto even baptism doth now save us . 5 Doth
now save us ! This ordinance was then leading them to the
acquisition of Christian knowledge, virtue and piety ; and
thus saving them from ignorance, error and sin. If then
our Saviour pronounced his disciples saved, as soon as
they cordially embraced his religion ; and if the inspired
t
175 CHRISTIAN SALVATION. 7
apostles declared that their reformed converts, as well as
themselves, had already experienced salvation; surely
Christian salvation takes place whenever a person be¬
comes a practical Christian. Many similar passages
might be produced, but these are sufficient to prove the
truth of the second proposition.
£. I am thirdly to prove that so long as any one con¬
tinues a practical Christian, he is in no danger of punish¬
ment. He will not indeed be saved from temporal
afflictions, as were many of them who attended upon our
Lord’s personal ministry ; but these are not to be con¬
sidered punishments. Still the words save, saved, salva¬
tion and Saviour are frequently used in the scriptures in
reference to these evils. From such trials, the sincere
Christian is now delivered only so far as his cheerful re¬
signation raises him above their influence. But he is in
no danger of suffering that misery which is the natural
consequence of sin. For there is a hell only for the im¬
penitent and disobedient; and what is called the wrath
of God abides only on those who are his enemies by their
wicked works. And there is no future condemnation to
those who walk not after the flesh, but after the spirit.
For what does Paul say to his Roman converts ? 1 God
commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were
yet sinners, Christ died for us. Much more then, being
now justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath
through him. For if, when we were enemies, we were
reconciled to God through the death of his Son; much
more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life.”
Here you perceive that two kinds oL salvation are men¬
tioned. The first was deliverance from sin, which they
had already experienced ; the second would be deliver-
8
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
176
ance from wrath, or the natural consequence of sin, in a
future world, which would take place hereafter. For if
they remained holy, no torment would await their en¬
trance upon another existence. Paul’s only fear on this
subject was, lest any should abandon the Christian cha¬
racter, and become so wicked as to incur future punish¬
ment. And although an inspired apostle, he manifests
his sense of the danger, even in regard to himself; for
he has written this passage. 4 But I keep under my body,
and bring it into subjection; lest that by any means,
when I have preached unto others, I myself should he a
castaway .’ A few other passages might be adduced to
prove that the practical Christian has nothing to fear but
sin ; but eno*ugh has been said to prove the truth of the
third proposition.
4. I am fourthly to prove, that divine pardon can be
obtained only by the formation of a Christian character.
And what is divine pardon ? Nothing more nor less than
deliverance from the power and punishment of sin; and
the possession and enjoyment of holiness. And can the
sinner secure this without reformation and improvement ?
Look once more to the law and the testimony. What are
. the words of Isaiah ? 4 Let the wicked forsake his way,
and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him re¬
turn unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him;
and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.’ This is
perfectly plain. If the depraved forsakes his depravity,
he escapes its punishment. What are the words of Jere¬
miah ? 4 It may be that the house of Judah will hear all
the evil which I purpose to do unto them, that they may
return every man from his evil way; that I may forgive
their iniquity and sin.’ This is equally plain. The house
177
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
9
of Judah could obtain forgiveness only by forsaking their
iniquities. And what was our Saviour’s commission to
his apostles ? ‘ That repentance and remission of sins
should be preached in his name.’ And what is repent¬
ance, but forsaking wickedness and acquiring holiness ?
and what is the remission of sins, but deliverance from
their power and punishment ? And what was the ex¬
hortation of Peter ? ‘ Repent and be converted.’ Why?
4 That your sins may be blotted out. 5 You perceive that
pardon and reformation are inseparable. Whoever for¬
sakes any sin, that sin is immediately pardoned ; and
until a sin is forsaken, it cannot be forgiven. This is
the current language of revelation. A host of texts might
be produced in proof of this assertion ; but sufficient have
been quoted to prove the truth of the fourth proposition.
But I will not trust to scriptural evidence alone. I ap¬
peal to your observation. Take the man of intemperance.
You perceive that his unlawful indulgence causes imme¬
diate pain, and not unfrequently sickness. The seeds of
various diseases soon take deep root, and undermine the
constitution; the balance of temper is destroyed ; the
tender sympathies of the soul are perverted ; the benevo¬
lent affections of the heart are brutalized ; the moral
powers are rendered insensible to good impressions ; the
intellectual faculties are enervated and shattered ; pro¬
perty is dissipated ; family and friends are disgraced; and
the order of social life is disturbed. Add to all this, his
distressing reflections on the past; his inefficient and
broken resolutions of the present; his dismal forebodings
of the future, and what earthly punishment more severe
need be imagined? And how is he to obtain pardon for
this sin? Suppose God should audibly pronounce his
10
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
178
forgiveness from heaven ; would this insure his happi¬
ness, so long as he continued intemperate ? No. It
would be of no service whatever for him to know that he
was pardoned in the mind of his heavenly Father, so long
as his punishment was not removed. He can secure en¬
joyment only by reformation. So it is with every sin of
heart and life. We may pray for forgiveness, and appeal
to the divine mercy ; but unless we endeavour to forsake
our iniquities, we only prove ourselves hypocrites. The
husbandman may as well expect a harvest, without any
cultivation of the soil. No. All such expectations are
irrational and unscriptural. God is indeed sufficiently
merciful. He is infinite love. He is a perfect Father of
all his children. But no change takes place in his cha¬
racter when our sins are pardoned. The reformation
must be in ourselves. And although we were already
pardoned in his mind, we could not escape from the pun¬
ishment of a single sin, until it was forsaken. Conse¬
quently, we can obtain the divine pardon only by forming
a Christian character.
But will not the punishment frequently continue after
the sin is forsaken ? Will reformation restore to the man
of intemperance, his impaired constitution, his wasted
estate, his lost confidence, and his self-approbation ?
Surely not. The consequences of sin must remain long
after it is forsaken ; perhaps forever. And for this there
can be no immediate pardon : because so long as we
remain the same persons, whether in time or eternity,
our memories must remind us of our past transgressions.
Do you suppose that Judas can ever forget that he be¬
trayed his Master ? And whene ver this base act of trea¬
chery occurs to his mind, must it not fill his soul with the
179
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
11
most excruciating anguish ? Yes. Sin is the same to
the soul that poison is to the body. Take poison, and
you injure or destroy your health. Commit sin, and you
injure or destroy your soul’s happiness. Expel the poi¬
son, and you regain your health ; although your constitu¬
tion will be injured in proportion to the quantity taken,
and the time it is retained in the system. Forsake sin,
and you regain your happiness ; although your soul will
be injured in proportion to the degree and duration of
your depravity; and you must be forever the worse for
the sins committed. Until you expel the poison, you can¬
not regain your health. Until you forsake your sin, you
cannot escape its punishment, nor experience divine par¬
don, nor obtain Christian salvation. I must conclude,
therefore, that the four propositions are proved true, from
reason, observation, and scripture.
II. By whom are we saved ? By our heavenly Father.
He is the original fountain of all our salvation. He saves
us from temporal inconveniences and calamities, inas¬
much as he provides the means for our daily support and
enjoyment. He saves us from sin and its consequences,
inasmuch as he furnishes the means of our moral anJ re¬
ligious improvement and happiness. Consequently, he is
our supreme Saviour. The truth of this proposition I will
now prove from reason and scripture.
1. Reason teaches us that our heavenly Father is our
supreme Saviour. How so 1 Because he is the original
author of our lives, and all things in existence. And for
what purpose has he given us being ? To increase his
own felicity ? Surely not. For he is the perfect, inde¬
pendent Creator ; and consequently, his happiness could
12
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
180
neither be increased nor diminished. He must therefore
have created us solely for our own enjoyment; because
he is infinite love. This is also evident from our very
constitution, and our unnumbered blessings. Now if this
be the fact, and if he has implanted within us an unceas¬
ing craving for some higher good ; and if he has furnished
us with various capacities for sensitive and rational hap¬
piness ; and if he has placed us in a scene of constant
danger and want, does it not follow from the very attri¬
butes of his nature, that he will furnish the necessary
means for the gratification of our innocent desires, and
for our protection from the various evils to which we are
exposed 1 Not only so. If he has subjected us to con¬
tinual temptation ; and if he has encouraged an insatiable
longing for future existence, is it not clear from the very
perfections of his character, that he will provide the
means of escape from iniquity, and open before us the
portals of immortality, and furnish us with opportunities
for the perfection of our spiritual nature 1 Should an
earthly parent leave his dependent child to perish, either
by accident, or cruelty, or starvation, should you not pro¬
nounce him an inhuman monster ? How infinitely more
cruel and unnatural would it be for the perfect, supreme
Creator of the universe to forsake the children of his
affection, and neglect to make provision for their animal
and spiritual wants. But this is impossible. For a per¬
fect God must necessarily be unchangeable in his charac¬
ter. And if love prompted him to create intelligent off¬
spring, that same affection must ever dispose him to regard
them with tenderness ; and to be their eternal Benefactor,
Preserver, Father, and Saviour. And universal experience
has thus far declared, that the Lord is good to all, and
181
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
13
that his tender mercies are over all the works of his
hands ; and consequently, he must remain the universal
and supreme Saviour.
2. Revelation also teaches us that our heavenly Father
is our supreme Saviour. Turn to the scriptures, and
you will perceive that he is represented as the original
source of all temporal salvation. You will find this deci¬
sive declaration in the book of Isaiah. < I, even I, am
the Lord ; and besides me there is no Saviour.’ You
may find a similar expression in the book of Hosea. ‘ Yet
I am the Lord thy God from the land of Egypt, and thou
shalt know no God but me ; for there is no Saviour be¬
sides me,’ Notwithstanding these positive assertions,
you learn that this only Saviour employs agents to effect
the various purposes of temporal protection and preserva¬
tion. Look again to the writings of Isaiah. 1 For they
shall cry unto the Lord because of their oppressors, and
he shall send them a Saviour, a great one, and he shall
deliver them.’ And in Nehemiah you find this passage.
‘ In the time of their trouble, when they cried unto thee,
thou heardest them from heaven, and according to thy
manifold mercies, thou gavest them saviours, who saved
them out of the hands of their enemies.’ Now these texts
prove most satisfactorily, that although there is no Saviour
besides Jehovah ; yet that he frequently raised up and
qualified other saviours, to redeem his chosen people from
temporal calamities. The same kindness he continues
to manifest towards us. For he is now, as ever, the ori¬
ginal source of all our means of support, comfort, and im¬
provement. By the various gifts of his providence, he
now saves us from hunger and nakedness, from slavery
and oppression, from war and pestilence, from ignorance
14
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
182
and crime, from sickness and death. And he freely gives
us, through a variety of second causes, all our talents,
privileges, blessings, and hopes. ‘ For of him, and through
him, and to him, are all things ; and in him we all live,
and move, and have our being.’
3. Revelation likewise instructs us that our heavenly Fa¬
ther is our supreme Saviour in spiritual concerns. You find
this declaration in Paul’s first epistle to Timothy. ‘ This
is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour,
who will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the
knowledge of the truth. ; Now this refers to the salvation
of the soul from sin and wretchedness; and expresses
very clearly the desire of our Father to have all his chil¬
dren embrace the gospel and reap its rich rewards. In
the same epistle, you find another passage equally explicit.
‘ We trust in the living God, who is the Saviour of all
men, specially of those that believe.’ This needs no
explanation. Not only so. The beloved disciple thus
affirms. ‘ God so loved the world that he gave his only
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him, should
not perish, but have everlasting life.’ This fully proves
that we are solely indebted to our Father for the unspeak¬
able gift of a spiritual Saviour ; and for all the means of
moral renovation and improvement. This is confirmed
by Paul. ‘ All things are of God, who hath reconciled
us to himself by Jesus Christ.’ In another place, he uses
this language. ‘ But after that the kindness and love of
God our Saviour toward men appeared, not by works of
righteousness which we have done, but according to his
mercy, he saved us, by the washing of regeneration and
renewing of the Holy Ghost, through Jesus Christ our
Saviour.’ You perceive that God and his Son are both
183
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
15
called Saviours in the same verse. But you also notice
that it is expressly asserted, that God had saved them by
Christ Jesus. The one was the author of salvation, and
the other the instrument. Many more passages of the
same import might be quoted ; but these are sufficient to
prove that our heavenly Father is our supreme Saviour.
Yes ; he is the original fountain of all temporal and
spiritual salvation, as 1 have fairly proved from reason
and scripture.
III. By what means does our heavenly Father effect
our Christian salvation ? By certain instruments, princi¬
ples and motives. The most important of these I will
now describe.
1. Our heavenly Father saves us through the instru¬
mentality of Christ Jesus. He brought him into being,
commissioned him to be a Saviour of all who would come
unto him, and qualified him for the successful execution
of his divine office. These truths are plainly taught in
various parts of the unerring scriptures. Turn to the
book of Acts, and you hear the inspired apostles address¬
ing their brethren in these words. 4 Then Peter and the
other apostles answered—-We ought to obey God father
than men. The God of our fathers raised up Jesus,
whom ye slew and hanged on a tree ; him hath God ex¬
alted with his right hand, to be a prince and a Saviour,
for to give repentance unto Israel, and forgiveness of
sins.’ You here learn that the God of the Jews had
brought Jesus into existence, and qualified him to be an
instrument of their salvation. Take another passage from
the letter of the beloved John. ‘ And we have seen and
do testify, that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour
of the world. 1 You here perceive that our Father sent
IG CHRISTIAN SALVATION, 184
his Son to be a Saviour, not merely for the Jews, but for
all nations. More passages of the same character might
be easily adduced ; but these are amply sufficient to prove
that our heavenly Father has created and commissioned
Jesus of Nazareth to be an instrument of salvation to
mankind.
But how is Christ Jesus an instrument for our salva¬
tion ? Let Peter answer this question. ‘ God having
raised up his Son Jesus, sent him to bless you, in turning
away every one of you from his iniquities. 5 So far then
as he turns any one from his wickedness, so far he saves
him from its punishment, and no farther ; and he effects
the salvation of sinners in no other way. But in what
manner does he turn us from our sins? Let this question
be answered by the experience of those already saved ;
by the best Christians of all denominations. Inquire
what first induced them to become sincere disciples of
Jesus, and you will receive a variety of replies. You will
find that some have been early and successfully trained
up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and gra¬
dually drawn into the paths of holiness, by the pure mo¬
rality of the gospel ; while others have been converted
more suddenly in maturer years, by the great discoveries
of Christianity. You will find that some have been ex¬
cited to consideration and amendment, by the example of
Jesus ; while others have been influenced to obedience,
by his benevolent labors and stupendous miracles. You
will find that some have been stimulated to exertion in
the Christian life, by his glorious promises of a heavenly
reward; while others have been savingly alarmed, by the
awful threatenings of future punishment. You will find
that some have been melted to contrition by his agonizing
sufferincrs ; while others have bowed their stubborn wills
185
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
17
before the majesty of his cross. From these and similar
confessions, you must conclude that Jesus saves us from
our iniquities, by his life and labors; by his example and
instructions ; by his consolations and discoveries ; by his
promises and threatenings, and by his sufferings and
death. And what is proved true by actual experience,
you find confirmed by the clearest declarations of scrip¬
ture. For spiritual salvation is there ascribed to these
various causes ; sometimes to one, sometimes to another,
and sometimes to all combined. The whole process is
therefore perfectly plain and intelligible. Jesus exerts
no mysterious or miraculous influence over our souls.
So far as he induces us to become good, so far he is in-
strumental in our salvation, and no farther; for we are
not now saved, and we shall never be saved, any farther
than we become holy. This is expressly declared by our
Saviour himself. 4 Not every one that saith unto me —
Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but
he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.’
The writer to the Hebrews is equally decided. 4 Christ
Jesus became the author of eternal salvation unto all them
that obey him.’ Consequently, those who continue dis-
obedient are not partakers of his salvation.
2. Our heavenly Father saves us through the instru¬
mentality of his holy word. This truth is likewise plainly
taught in scripture. What is the exhortation of James
to his readers ? 4 Receive with meekness the ingrafted
word, which is able to save your souls.’ You find the
following petition in one of our Saviour s last prayers.
4 Sanctify them through thy truth ; thy word is truth.’
Paul addresses his beloved Timothy in these words.
4 From a child thou hast known the holy scriptures,
vol. hi.—NO. XXXIII. 2*
IS
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
186
which are able to make thee wise unto salvation, through
faith which is in Christ Jesus.’ And Peter addresses
his converts as already saved by this instrument. 1 See
that ye love one another with a pure heart fervently ; be¬
ing born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorrupti¬
ble, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth
forever.’ These passages are sufficient to prove that the
scriptures of truth are a divinely appointed instrument of
salvation ; and that they contain the necessary efficacy
to accomplish this glorious purpose.
But how does the bible effect our salvation 1 By warn¬
ing us of our moral dangers, furnishing remedies for our
spiritual diseases, and providing instruction in relation to
.
our immortal interests. For we are assured that ‘ all
scripture, given by inspiration of God, is profitable for
doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in
righteousness.’ Let me then illustrate this position by
a familiar example. Give a navigator an accurate chart
of some dangerous coast; let it exhibit a perfect delinea¬
tion of all rocks, shoals, and quicksands; let the course
of safety be described with equal fidelity and plainness.
Now if he follow the right directions, his chart will be
instrumental in the salvation of himself, his crew and his
vessel; but if he proceed in a contrary path, his neglect
will expose him to all the calamities of shipwreck. So
with the bible. Put it into the hands of an intelligent
child of God, and he will readily perceive that it discloses
the moral dangers to which he is exposed, and that it
discovers a sure and safe way to holiness and heaven.
He will feel conscious of freedom and ability, either to
disregard its admonitions, or to comply with its requisi¬
tions. Now if he follow its instructions, he will assuredly
187
CHRISTIAN SALVATION,
19
be saved from ignorance, vice and misery ; and rendered
enlightened, virtuous and happy. But if he slight its
warnings, despise its counsels and disobey its injunc¬
tions, he will as certainly experience the consequences of
ignorance, error and sin. The bible is instrumental in
effecting his salvation in the same way that a chart saves
the mariner from shipwreck. The divine word contains
the same efficacy now as at the period of its first promul¬
gation. Whoever sincerely endeavors to make it the
standard of his faith and practice, will inevitably secure
salvation, although he should be deprived of the privilege
of hearing the preached gospel. But no one should be so
foolish as to suppose this holy book possesses any mysteri*
ous or miraculous charm. No. You may cover every
shelf in your house with bibles ; you may place them un¬
der every pillow; you may even bind them to every heart;
and if you use them in no other way, you may as well
expect salvation from your almanac. No. The bible
will do you no good, unless you study its pages, and un¬
derstand its contents, and obey its instructions ; and then
it will prove instrumental in your salvation just so far as
it makes you wiser, better and holier, and no farther.
3. Our heavenly Father saves us through the influence
of his holy spirit. This fact is plainly taught in the gospel.
Look into the writings of Paul. To the Philippians he saith
— ‘ Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling ;
for it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do
of his good pleasure.’ To the Thessalonians he saith—
1 God hath chosen you to salvation through the sanctifica¬
tion of the spirit.’ And again, 4 God hath also given un¬
to us his holy spirit.’ To the Romans, speaking of the
gentiles, he saith—‘Being sanctified by the holy ghost/
20
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
18S
And to Titus, he saith,— ‘ God saved us by the renewing
of the holy ghost.’ More passages of a similar import
might be readily quoted, but these satisfactorily prove
that our heavenly Father saves us through the influence
of his holy spirit.
But how does the spirit of God effect our salvation ?
Let an inspired apostle answer this question. ‘ The
spirit also helpeth our infirmities/ But how is this help
communicated ? In a supernatural manner ? Does it
give us the power of working miracles, and of speaking
unknown languages ! No. It was so imparted to the
apostles and some of their first Jewish and Gentile con¬
verts ; so as to convince them more deeply of the truth
of Christianity, and aid them more effectually in its pro¬
pagation. But we have no good evidence that any be¬
lievers have received this special influence of the spirit
since the apostolic age. — Is it communicated in an irre¬
sistible manner ? Does it compel us to become Chris¬
tians ? No. For this would destroy our accountableness,
and directly contradict the scriptures. These commands
are plainly given. ‘ Quench not the spirit.’ ‘ Grieve
not the holy spirit of God/ And this charge was boldly
made to the Jew r s ; ‘ Ye stiff-necked and uncircumcised
in heart and ears, ye do always resist the holy ghost/
If they had power to withstand its influence, we must
surely possess the same power, for human nature in this
respect remains unchanged. — Is it communicated in an
arbitrary manner ? Is it bestowed without any conditions?
No. It is promised to those, and those only, who ask,
seek, and knock for its assistance. ‘ If ye then, being
evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children,
how much more shall your heavenly Father give the
189
CHRISTIAN SALVATION,
21
holy spirit to them that ask him.’ ‘ Work out your own
salvation with fear and trembling.’ ‘ Give all diligence
to make your calling and election sure.’ Our Father is
ever ready to help all who help themselves; and as he
has promised aid to none others, those who neglect the
means of grace, must not expect any peculiar assistance.
— Is it communicated in a discernible manner? Can
we distinguish its operations from the results of our own
thoughts, feelings, affections and imaginations ? No.
For if we could, we should realize as much of a miracle
as any wrought by our Saviour; and we all believe the
day of miracles to be past. And to prevent this perni¬
cious error, our divine Master has given us a very explicit
caution. 1 The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou
hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it
cometh, and whither it goeth; so is every one that is
born of the spirit.’ — Is it communicated in a uniform
manner ? Does it assist all persons in the same way,
and at any one particular period? No. For then we
could determine the mode and time of operation. But
experience furnishes no such result. And an inspired
apostle assures us, that there 4 are diversities of opera¬
tions, but it is the same God which worketh all in all.’
If the help of the spirit is communicated in none of
these ways, how is it imparted ? Neither revelation nor
experience furnishes an answer to this question. We
must therefore rest satisfied with knowing that w-e are
assisted by the holy spirit in our exertions for salvation ;
and assisted in such a way as not to affect our free agency.
We have a parallel case in the productions of nature,
4 So is the kingdom of God, as if a man should c£st seed
into the ground ; and should sleep and rise, night and
22
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
190
day, and the seed should spring and grow up, he knoweth
not how. For the ear bringeth forth fruit of herself;
first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the
ear. 5 If you see the ripened grain, you know that God
has blessed the labors of the husbandman, although you
cannot tell the time when, nor the manner how. So in
religion. If you behold a person exhibiting love, joy,
peace, long suffering, gentleness, goodness* faith, meek¬
ness, temperance, you know that his infirmities have
received help from the holy spirit. And just so far as this
influence produces these Christian fruits, just so far it
is instrumental in our salvation, and no farther.
4. Our heavenly Father saves us through the instru¬
mentality of the Christian ministry. Paul informs us that
Christ Jesus ‘ gave some, apostles; and some, prophets;
and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers;
for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the min¬
istry, for the edifying of the body of Christ.’ He was
himself an apostle of this number ; and he acquaints us
with some of the measures of his ministry. ‘To the
weak became I as weak, that I might gain the weak ; I
am made all things to all men, that I might by all means
save some.’ He also gives an exhortation to Timothy
on this subject. ‘ Take heed unto thyself, and unto the
doctrine; continue in them ; for in doing this thou shalt
both save thyself, and them that hear thee.’ He likewise
declared that it 6 pleased God by the foolishness of preach¬
ing to save them that believe. 5 These texts plainly prove
that the Christian ministry is an appointed means of spi¬
ritual salvation ; and that faithful ministers are instru¬
ments in the hand of God for the conversion of sinners.
But how does the minister of Christ effect our salva-
191
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
23
tion ? By inducing us to forsake and avoid sin ; to acquire
and maintain holiness. And by what means does he
accomplish these objects ? Ask those pious believers who
readily ascribe their salvation to the instrumentality of
their pastors. They will frankly confess, that their
attention was first awakened to the claims of religion, by
some rational, affecting, or persuasive discourse. Or they
will freely admit, that they were first excited to duty,
by the conversation of their religious teacher, either in
public or private, either at the bed of sickness, in the
hour of death, or at the house of affliction. There are
others indeed in almost every society, who will not ac¬
knowledge that they have received any perceptible bene¬
fit from the Christian ministry. But is there not reason
to believe, that they have been imperceptibly deterred
from many vain thoughts and sinful desires, from many
unkind remarks and cruel accusations, from many vicious
practices and wicked habits, by hearing the weekly sound
of the everlasting gospel 1 Is there not reason to believe,
that they have also been excited, in the same way, to
cherish good feelings, to cultivate amiable dispositions,
to exhibit benevolent sympathies, and to perform right¬
eous actions ? You can judge fairly of the saving effects
of preaching, only by comparing the intellectual and
moral state of a whole congregation, where no Christian
instructions have lately been dispensed, with one which
has long enjoyed the blessings of religious institutions.
Whenever this is done candidly, you will be convinced,
that the constant warnings against wickedness, the con-
tinual recommendations of righteousness, the unceasing
proclamation of the love of God and the claims of Christ,
24
f
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
192
and the ever ascending spiritual devotion, have a direct
and powerful tendency to elevate the tone of moral feel¬
ing and character. And the principal reason that more
apparent good is not effected, must be found in the hear¬
ers. The apostle fully confirms the truth of this assertion.
‘ For unto us was the gospel preached as well as unto
them ; but the word preached did not profit them, not
being mixed with faith in them that heard it.’ This must
ever be the case so long as men are free agents. Their
improvement from preaching must depend on their own
exertions, in connection with the promised blessing. Yes;
you may attend church on every returning sabbath ; you
may have the most eloquent preacher in Christendom; you
may hear the whole counsel of God declared from week
to week and from year to year ; and unless you listen to
the truths of religion, and bring them home to your minds
and consciences, and strive to reduce them to practice,
you can reap but little benefit from the Christian ministry ;
for this instrument will save you just so far as it makes
you good, and no farther.
5. Our heavenly Father saves us through the instru¬
mentality of the events of his providence. These are of
two kinds, joyous and grievous. Both are wisely designed
to lead his intelligent children to consideration and obe¬
dience. This is clearly taught in various passages of
scripture. Listen to the words of Paul. ‘ Despisest thou
the riches of his goodness, and forbearance, and long-
suffering ; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth
thee to repentance 1 ’ Hear also the declaration of the
Almighty. ‘ In their affliction they will seek me early ! *
In accordance with this is the testimony of David. ‘Be-
CHRISTIAN SALVATION,
25
im
fore I was afflicted I went astray; but now have I kept
thy word/ And the consolation of the Hebrew converts
is equally to the point. ‘ Now no chastening for the
present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous ; nevertheless,
afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness
unto them which are exercised thereby.’ These texts
fully prove that the prosperous and afflictive events of
providence are an instrument of Christian salvation.
But how do the events of providence effect our salva¬
tion ? By leading us to self-examination, and self-im¬
provement. Prosperity is admirably adapted to excite
our gratitude to our heavenly Benefactor, and encourage
unreserved obedience to his holy laws. No doubt many
may be found in every religious denomination, on whom
the goodness of God has exerted its saving influence. But
I fear the pleasing events of life have corrupted a still
larger number, and rendered them more thoughtless and
worldly minded, more covetous and depraved. On the
other hand, adversity has produced an abundant harvest
of holiness. The afflictive events of providence have
probably awakened the attention of more persons to the
concerns of religion, than any other cause whatever. You
find some in almost every church who were first moved
to commence the work of salvation, by some disappoint¬
ment, desertion or suffering ; by the loss either of health,
or friends, or property. But affliction has not uniformly
produced holy fruits. Many have been hardened by their
trials, and made more depraved and wretched. This must
continue to be the case so long as we remain free agents.
Our Father designs our best good in all the events of his
providence. We have power, either to improve them to
our salvation, or to misimprove them to our condemna-
VOL. III. -NO. XXXIII. 3
26
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
194
tion. Our interest, our duty, and our happiness coin¬
cide. Let no one then be so simple as to think he shall
be always sure of happiness, without personal holiness,
because he now receives a large share of temporal bless¬
ings. For unless he faithfully improves all his talents,
they will hereafter swell the fountain of his misery.
Neither let any one believe that he is sure of future feli-
citv, simply because he is afflicted while on earth. No.
You may see every hope of your soul blasted ; you may
be deserted by every mortal friend ; you may be torment¬
ed with every bodily disease ; you may be stripped of
every earthly comfort; and if your trials render you more
peevish, repining and rebellious, they will assuredly in
crease your guilt, your wretchedness and your condem¬
nation. Unless they serve to wean your affections from
earthly vanities ; unless they raise your thoughts to the
unseen realities of eternity ; unless they lead you to self-
scrutiny, self-discipline and self-cultivation, they cannot
promote your Christian salvation. For this instrument
will save you just so far as it makes you holy, and no
farther.
6. Our heavenly Father saves us through the influence
of faith. A belief in the Messiahship of Jesus leads to
Christian salvation. You find this truth plainly taught on
almost every page of the gospel. What was the answer
of Peter to the question of the jailer ? ‘ Believe on the
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy
house.’ How did our Saviour close his commission to
his apostles 1 ‘ He that believeth and is baptized, shall
be saved ; but he that believeth not, shall be damned.’
Listen also to the declaration of Paul. 4 If thou shalt
confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe
195
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
27
in thy heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou
shalt be saved.’ A multitude of similar passages might
be quoted ; but these satisfactorily prove, that faith in
Jesus is a principle of Christian salvation.
But how does faith effect our salvation ? By influenc¬
ing our thoughts, motives and conduct in the ways of
truth, virtue and piety. It operates in the same manner
as our belief in many other facts. Much of our daily
conduct is the result of faith, and not of certain know¬
ledge. Take an example. You may find a man of
learning, who was comparatively ignorant when lie arrived
at years of maturity. His advantages of instruction had
been few and defective. But he believed that important
and valuable literary acquisitions might be made by at¬
tention to study. He accordingly procured the necessary
books, employed the requisite instructors, and devoted to
the pursuit of knowledge a sufficient portion of time and
thought. And what is the result ? A good education.
This is therefore the effect of his belief; for it was his
faith which first excited him to commence a literary
course, and stimulated him to persevere to the accom¬
plishment of his wishes. Now faith in the anointed
Jesus operates in precisely the same manner. A person
becomes rationally convinced that he is the divinely com¬
missioned Saviour of sinners. He therefore receives all
his instructions as eternal truth. These assure him that
salvation can be obtained only by obedience to the divine
• commands. He accordingly makes the necessary exer¬
tion for the acquisition of a Christian character. This is
the natural result of his belief. His faith in Jesus there¬
fore influences him to obedience, and secures his deliv¬
erance from iniquity, and his possession of holiness. And
2S
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
196
in this process, there is nothing more mysterious than in
the faith of the student.
But are there not two kinds of faith ? Certainly ; the
one speculative,, and the other practical; the one living,
and the other dead ; the one of the head, and the other of
the heart; for ‘ with the heart man believeth unto right¬
eousness.’ And you may frequently see both kinds ex¬
emplified in the concerns of this world. Take an exam¬
ple. You behold two persons strongly tempted to engage
in gambling. You assure them, that if they follow this
pernicious practice,, they will sooner or later lose their
property, ruin their character and disgrace their friends.
You adduce sufficient evidence to convince them of the
truth of your assertions. Now the faith of one is practi¬
cal, and influences him to resist the temptation, and thus
saves him from severe punishment. The faith of the
other is speculative, and while he professes to believe in
the ruinous consequences of the forbidden vice, permits
him to engage and continue in its fascinations and fatal
allurements. So in religion. The great majority in
civilized lands profess to believe in the Christian religion.
A part only are influenced by their faith to conform to its
requisitions. The remainder act in direct opposition to
their profession, because their belief is merely speculative.
So far, therefore, as a person’s faith induces him to obey
the Christian commands, so far it is instrumental in his
salvation, and no farther. And a belief in any particular
doctrine or set of opinions is of no further value to any
person, than it contributes to his goodness or happiness.
For no one will ever be judged by the articles of his
creed, but by the fruits of his faith, ‘ the deeds done in the
body.’ Consequently no faith is effectual to salvation,
197
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
£9
except that ‘ which works by love, purifies the heart, and
overcomes the world.’
7. Our heavenly Father saves us through the influence
of hope. This is expressly asserted by an inspired apos¬
tle. 4 We are saved by hope.’ He here refers to the
hope of present and future happiness, which is the natural
and certain consequence of personal holiness. For in
another place, he makes this declaration ; 4 Godliness is
profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that
now is, and of that which is to come.’ And Peter gives
thanks for the heavenly inheritance reserved for the
righteous. 4 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord
Jesus Christ, which, according to his abundant mercy,
hath begotten us again unto a lively hope,—to an inherit¬
ance, incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away,
reserved in heaven for you.’ More passages of a similar
nature might be easily quoted ; but these clearly prove
that the hope of present and future reward is a principle
of Christian salvation.
But how does hope effect our salvation ? By influenc¬
ing us to become the obedient followers of Jesus. For
John informs us, 4 that every man that hath this hope in
him, purifieth himself even as Christ is pure.’ Many of
our temporal affairs are regulated by this very principle.
Take an example. Why does the husbandman prepare
the soil, sow the seed, and cultivate the growing plant ?
Does he surely know that success will crown his exer¬
tions ? No. The mere hope of a harvest is the moving
cause of his labors. Fo in religion. A person really de¬
sires to obtain present and future happiness; he is con¬
vinced, from reason, and observation, and scripture, that
nothing but Christian obedience can secure these bless-
VOL. III. — NO. XXXIII. 3*
30
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
108
ings. His hope therefore influences his conduct, and
causes him to comply with the prescribed conditions of
salvation. So far then as his moral goodness is the result
of his Christian hope, so far is this principle instrumental
in his salvation, and no farther. And there is nothing
more incomprehensible in its operation, than in the hope
of the husbandman.
But are there not two kinds of hope 1 Certainly; the
one living, and influencing the conduct; and the other
dead, and exerting no salutary influence. An illustration
of both kinds may be readily furnished from real lift;.
Two persons are equally desirous of obtaining a fortune.
The hope of one is a living principle, and influences him
to rise early, and retire late, and ‘ eat the bread of care¬
fulness and thus enables him to secure the object of his
wishes. The hope of the other is inoperative, and per'
mits him to remain inactive, unenterprising, and perhapis
imprudent; and thus naturally disappoints his desires-
So in spiritual concerns. All persons wish for present
and future happiness. A part only are influenced by
their hope to make the necessary exertions for the acqui¬
sition of Christian virtue. The remainder continue more
or less negligent and disobedient; and consequently se-
cure but a small portion even of earthly enjoyment, and
leave the world with a very imperfect preparation for
heavenly felicity. Now for a person to hope for salvation,
while neglecting the Christian duties, is more absurd, than
for a pauper to expect riches, while confined to the alms¬
house. And for him to expect present and future happi¬
ness, while walking in the paths of open wickedness, is
infinitely more absurd, than for the person who cannot
199
CHRISTIAN SALVATION*
31
swim, to hope for salvation from drowning, while he con¬
tinues plunging further and deeper into the bosom of the
ocean. Just so far, therefore, as our hope of happiness
influences us to become good, just so far is this principle
instrumental in our salvation, and no farther. And this
living hope is the only one which will not make us
ashamed.
8. Our heavenly Father saves us through the influence
of fear. This is taught by the precepts and example of
our Saviour and his apostles, Jude requires different
classes of sinners to be treated in various methods ; and
then adds this injunction ; 4 Others save with fear.’ A
fear of the natural and certain consequences of sin deters
from its commission. The inspired preachers frequently
appealed to this principle. Listen to the w ords of Jesus.
* Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.’ ‘ Fear
not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the
soul; but rather fear Him wdiich is able to destroy both
soul and body in hell.’ Take also an example from Paul.
4 And as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and
a judgment to come, Felix trembled.’ 4 God will render
unto every man according to his deeds; to them that are
contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey unright¬
eousness, indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish
upon every soul of man that doeth evil.’ These passages
are sufficient to prove that our Saviour and his apostles
appealed to the fears of their hearers; and that fear is a
principle of Christian salvation.
But how does fear effect our Christian salvation ? By
deterring us from wickedness. We are daily influenced
by this principle in the regulation of our own conduct,
32
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
200
and in our government of those under our protection.
Take a family of children. Some of them may be per¬
suaded to filial obedience, by kind and generous motives ;
while others can be moved to duty only by the fear of
punishment. So in the Christian world. Present reli¬
gion to the attention of men, and some are induced by
the purest principles of action to commence and continue
the work of reformation and improvement; while others
seem hardened against every tender and affecting con¬
sideration. You may persuade and entreat them to em¬
brace the gospel by the friendship and sufferings and
death of a crucified Saviour ; by the mercy and love and
blessings of a heavenly Father ; by all that is dear and
desirable on earth and in heaven ; and you produce little
or no effect. You must depict the bitter fruits of sin, and
describe the torments of the damned, and arouse their
fears of hell, before you can start the tears of penitence.
Inquire into the experience of many good "Christians, in
almost every denomination, and you will learn that the
fear of misery first induced them to begin the work of
salvation. Had not the terrors of the Lord been pro¬
claimed, they might have continued impenitent even to
the present hour, and perhaps become hardened profli¬
gates. But commencing the work of religion in fear, the
very lowest principle of human nature, they gradually
learned to love Cod for his goodness, and to serve him for
the rewards of holiness. So far, therefore, as the fear of
punishment influences us to forsake and avoid sin, so far
it is instrumental in our salvation, and no farther.
But does not fear operate in different ways ? Certainly.
You may see this illustrated in temporal concerns. Be-
201
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
33
hold a vessel in a dangerous storm. The fear of ship¬
wreck nerves one mariner with double courage and
strength ; and enables him to make wonderful exertions
for self-preservation. A second is wholly unmanned, be¬
comes faint and sick, and is perhaps left a prey to des¬
pair. So in the concerns of the soul. The fear of
punishment influences one to persevere in a sober,
righteous and godly life. A second is wholly unnerved,
driven to despair, perhaps deprived of the use of his rea¬
soning powers, and even abandoned to self-destruction.
But when this takes place, we may be assured that his
fears have not been excited by the terrors of the Lord.
For Jesus and his apostles certainly declared the whole
counsel of God ; sinners were as depraved then as now ;
and we have no account of any such occurrence under
their preaching. We cannot do better than imitate their
example, and make sinners fear nothing so much as the
natural and lasting consequences of their sins.
Perhaps you will now ask, if we are not saved by our
good works ? Whatever may be said as to our being
saved by them, it is certain that we cannot be saved with¬
out them ; for they are the only scriptural evidence of a
Christian character, as well as the chief method of form¬
ing it. This is the reason that they are so emphatically
insisted upon by our Saviour and his apostles. Perhaps
there is no other subject, on which they have said so
much and so earnestly ; because, if not holiness itself,
they are the manifestations of holiness, and considered in
connexion with their motives, the elements of it. If the
fruit be bad, you pronounce the tree corrupt. If the
stream be bitter, you call the fountain impure. If the
34
CHRISTIAN SALVATION,
202
outward actions be vicious, you declare the heart de¬
praved. For the same reason, if the conduct be virtuous,
you consider the soul to be holy. Hence you see the infi¬
nite importance of good works ; for without them there
can be no evidence of Christian holiness ; and conse¬
quently no ground to hope for salvation. In this conclu¬
sion, the sacied writers wonderfully harmonize. I know,
indeed, that some persons have supposed Paul and James
at variance on this point. But this is the mistake of ig¬
norance. Paul asserts that a Christian is saved without
works of law. By works of law, he means the Jewish
rites and ceremonies; circumcision, sacrifices, fasting,
washing of hands, paying tithes, and the like. And
surely these cannot aid a believer in Jesus in forsaking
his iniquities. He also declares that a man is justified by
faith alone. By faith, he intends that living, operative
principle, which is as sure to yield good fruits, as the sun
is to send forth light and heat. And it is this faith which
saves the believer ; but good works are the only evidence
of the existence of such a principle. Now James was
probably writing to those who had perverted the meaning
of Paul ; and he insists that a man cannot be saved with¬
out works. By works, he means the fruits of love to God
and man, holiness of heart and life ; and he proves his
proposition so clearly, that no one ought to mistake his
conclusion. The real sentiments, then, of both apostles,
are in perfect harmony with the instructions of their di¬
vine Master. The substance of the whole matter, there¬
fore, is manifestly this. Just so far as a person obeys
Jesus, just so far will he bring forth good works; and
just so far as he exhibits good works, just so far is he a
203
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
35
practical Christian ; and just so far as he is a practical
Christian, just so far is he saved, and no farther.
One most important consideration remains to be men¬
tioned. It is this. We are saved by the grace of God.
Yes. To the free grace of our heavenly Father are we
indebted for all the means of our salvation. And what is
free grace ? Let me give an imperfect illustration by an
example. Suppose an earthly monarch should make a
feast, and cordially invite all his subjects to come and
partake freely. He receives nothing in return for his en¬
tertainment ; and consequently it is the gift of his grace
or favor. If any of the invited guests refuse to attend,
the fault is wholly their own; and for their loss of the
pleasure, they can justly blame none but themselves. So
it is with our heavenly Father. He wishes all his chil¬
dren to be happy. He knows they can be happy only by
being good. He has accordingly furnished all tl>e means
necessary for securing their goodness. And it is solely
of his free grace, that he sent his Son Jesus, gave him
miraculous powers, and qualified him to be the spiritual
Saviour of mankind. It is solely of his free grace, that
he raised the crucified Lord of glory from the dead, exhi¬
bited him to competent witnesses, qualified his apostles to
publish the history of a divine revelation, and preserved
the gospel unimpaired to the present times. It is solely
of his free grace, that he now invites us all to come to the
fountain of truth and be cleansed from our moral pollu¬
tion, that he offers the assistance of his holy spirit to all
who seek for it in sincerity, and that he aids us in form¬
ing Christian characters. For all these unspeakable
blessings, we can make him no returns; for he is a per-
36
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
204
feet being, and cannot be benefited by the services of his
imperfect children. If we refuse to improve these means
to our own progress in holiness, we shall not be saved ;
but we can blame no one but ourselves ; for we are all in¬
vited to approach the table of spiritual bread and water.
We all have ability to comply with the invitation. We
are all encouraged by the most animating motives. And
we are assured there can be no other way of becoming
happy, but by using our own powers in the acquisition of
holiness. Although salvation is of free grace, it can be
experienced only by those who cultivate Christian know¬
ledge, virtue, and piety.
IV. Thus have I endeavored to answer the three im¬
portant questions — What is Christian salvation ? By whom
are we saved ? And by what means is our salvation ef¬
fected ?' 'rite answers returned naturally suggest several
important reflections.
1. From what has been said, we learn the grand design
J CD o
of our Saviour’s mission and death. We learn that he
labored, taught, suffered and died, to save us from our
sins, and to assist us in acquiring a holy character, so that
we might here enjoy the happiness for which we were
created, and be qualified for heavenly felicity hereafter.
And he would accomplish this plan of infinite mercy, by
inducing us to fulfil the various duties of our several rela-
tions. Now we are related to our Creator; for we are
dependent on his favor for our existence and faculties,
for our preservation and support, for our blessings and
hopes. Consequently we are bound, by the very laws of
our rational and moral nature, to submit to his authority
as our Governor, to render him gratitude as our Benefac-
205
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
37
tor, to trust in him as our unchangeable Friend, to love
him as our Father, and to worship him as our God ; and
if we fulfil these obligations, our piety yields us the purest
felicity. But if we banish our Maker from our thoughts,
profane his sacred name and institutions, murmur at his
allotments, and violate his commands, our sinfulness pro¬
duces aggravated misery.-—We are also related to our
fellow men; for they are also children of our common
parent; possessed of the same powers, privileges and
rights ; and exposed to similar temptations, trials and
afflictions. Consequently we are bound to love them as
ourselves, to exert ourselves to promote their best welfare,
and ever to do unto them in all things as we would have
them do unto us ; and if we fulfil these obligations, our
benevolence gives us substantial happiness. But if we
knowingly injure their property, influence, feelings, repu¬
tation or character, our wickedness will be attended with
certain wretchedness.—We are likewise blessed with the
union of animal and spiritual capacities. Consequently
we are bound to restrain the propensities, principles and
affections of our constitution within the prescribed limits
of conscience, reason and revelation ; and if we fulfil these
obligations, our self-government secures rational enjoy¬
ment. But if we give unlawful indulgence to our appe¬
tites, desires, passions, and imaginations, our transgression
is followed by loss and suffering. Such then are the
iniquities from which our Saviour came to redeem us,
because they naturally produce severe misery ; and such
are the good works of which he would make us zealous,
because they insure pure and permanent happiness. Con¬
sequently the grand design of his mission and death is,
to induce us to fulfil the various duties of our several rela-
4
VOL. HI.-NO. XXXIII.
38
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
206
tions, so that we may avoid the punishment of sin, and
obtain the rewards of holiness, both for time and eternity;
and thus glorify our Father in heaven.
2. From what has been said, we also learn the great
object of the Christian ministry. We learn that this ob¬
ject is, to aid in fulfilling our Saviour's mission and death.
Consequently the minister of Christ will habitually endea¬
vor to persuade his hearers to forsake and avoid sin, and
to acquire and exhibit holiness. And to effect this im¬
portant purpose, he will clearly explain to them the nature
of sin ; and make them feel that it punishes the sinner,
even in this world, by subjecting him, either to loss of
health, property and reputation ; or to the suspicion and
contempt of his fellow men; or to the severe compunc¬
tions of an accusing conscience, or to the excruciating
agonies of a miserable death. He will also explain the
nature of holiness ; and make them perceive that it re¬
wards the obedient disciple even in this world, by securing
the approbation of his own mind ; the esteem of the wise
and virtuous ; the means of usefulness and respectability,
and the necessary preparation for the time of trouble, and
the season of affliction, and the hour of dissolution. He
will likewise lay before them the claims of Jesus; his
untiring services and disinterested sacrifices ; his spotless
example and heavenly spirit; his divine instructions and
cruel sufferings ; his ignominious death and triumphant
resurrection; and he will entreat them, by all that is
tender and affecting in his whole history, to become his
sincere disciples. He will further present to their con¬
sideration the paternal character of their Father in hea¬
ven ; the unmerited blessings with which he crowns their
days ; the surpassing love which prompted him to send his
207
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
39
Son to be their Saviour ; the manifold consolations he
has furnished for their sufferings and afflictions: the un-
fading inheritance which he has provided for their eternal
r esidence ; and he will beseech them, by all that is inte¬
resting and moving in his dispensations and perfections,
to become ‘ lovers of God as dear children.’ And finally,
he will strive to bring forward all the moral influences of
our holy religion. He will not ‘shun to declare the
whole counsel of the Lord.’ Especially, he will not fai\
to keep them in remembrance of the righteous retribu¬
tions of eternity — that great doctrine of Christianity,
wdiich its heavenly Founder so plainly taught in this
solemn declaration ; ‘ The hour is coming, in the which
all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall
come forth ; they that have done good, unto the resurrec¬
tion of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resur¬
rection of damnation.’ And to their moral and religious
improvement, he will cheerfully devote all his time and
talents, all his thoughts and exertions; nay—he will not
* count his life dear unto himself, so that he may finish
his course with joy, and fulfil’ the holy purposes of ‘ the
ministry wfflich he has received from the Lord Jesus.’
3. From what has been said, we likewise learn the
chief duty of hearers. It is, to aid the minister in ac¬
complishing the merciful design of our Saviour’s mission
and death. Let me then address all such in the w r ords
of inspiration. ‘ Work out your salvation wdth fear and
trembling.’ Your duty is plain. ‘ Keep the command¬
ments.’ ‘ Cease to do evil, and learn to do well.’ Ever
avoid what you know to be w r rong. Always practise
what you believe to be right. Regularly attend upon the
services of the sanctuary. Prepare yourselves to be edi~
40
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
208
fied by all its exercises. Feelingly engage in the public
devotions. Listen candidly to all evangelical instructions.
Bring home to your own consciences everything applica¬
ble to your wants. Carry much of the spirit of the sab¬
bath into the week. Frequently scrutinize your w r hole
character.. Attentively compare the habitual state of your
thoughts, motives, feelings, affections, conversation and
conduct with the divine standard. Speedily reform what¬
ever you discover amiss in your hearts or lives. Quickly
supply whatever you find defective in your faith or prac¬
tice. Confirm and strengthen whatever you possess ac¬
cording to truth and godliness. And never imagine that
you have arrived at perfection ; but forgetting your past
acquirements, press forward most zealously to higher and
still higher degrees of Christian knowledge and holiness.
And be not discouraged at opposing obstacles. For your
work is not only so plain, that the fool cannot honestly
err therein; but it is so practicable, that no excuse of
inability will ever be admitted at the bar of conscience
or heaven. Your Father remembers that you are dust,
and he does not require impossibilities of his frail chil¬
dren. Bring to your aid, therefore, all the motives of the
blessed gospel. Keep in mind the glorious rewards which
await those who persevere unto the end, and the awful
punishments threatened upon the disobedient. Place the
perfect example of your divine Master ever before you.
Recollect that the same apostle who commands you to
work out your salvation, also assures you, that 4 God work-
eth in you, both to will and to do, of his good pleasure. 5
Remember that a greater than Paul declares for your en¬
couragement, that 4 your heavenly Father is more read)
to give you his holy spirit, than earthly parents are to
209
CHRISTIAN SALVATION,
41
give good gifts to their children.’ If then you seek spi¬
ritual influences in sincerity and truth; if you labor in
the work of moral improvement with untiring perseve¬
rance ; if you continue in the plain paths of gospel salva¬
tion ; you will aid your minister in accomplishing the
great object of his ministry; and your exertions will be
crowned with present and everlasting salvation.
4. From what has been said, we further learn to deter¬
mine whether we ourselves, and those around us, have
experienced Christian salvation. If we adhere to the di¬
rection of our Saviour, we shall find no difficulty on this
question. For if we are sober, chaste, meek and hum¬
ble, we are surely saved from intemperance, impurity,
anger and pride. If we are just, candid, forgiving and
benevolent, we are certainly saved from dishonesty, bi¬
gotry, revenge and covetousness. If we love, serve and
worship our heavenly Father, we are undoubtedly saved
from impiety, ingratitude and disobedience. If we imi¬
tate the example, imbibe the spirit, and obey the instruc¬
tions of Christ Jesus, we are indeed saved from unbelief,
hypocrisy and condemnation. But on the other hand, if
we slight his invitations, disregard his precepts, and con¬
temn his authority, we manifestly do not possess Chris¬
tian knowledge, virtue and piety. And so also, if we
wish to know whether any particular neighbor or acquaint¬
ance is a subject of gospel salvation, we need not inquire
into the length or soundness of his religious creed ; for if
his faith influences him to forsake iniquity and acquire
holiness, it answers for him all the purposes of salvation ;
but if it does not produce these results, be it called hete¬
rodox, or orthodox, it is no better to him ‘ than sounding
brass or a tinkling cymbal.’ We need not inquire to
42
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
210
what denomination of believers he belongs ; for if his
heart is pure and his habits virtuous, his salvation is
already accomplished ; but if this be not the case, the
name of his sect will work no miracles for him at death,
and he will be accounted as nothing at the bar of heaven.
We need not inquire what his religious experiences have
been ; for if he exhibit the Christian character, no other
evidence is needed ; but if he cannot furnish this scrip¬
tural proof of election, all the experiences in creation are
of no service whatever. We need not inquire if he has
been born again; for unless we see the marks of the new
birth in his temper and conduct, all the professions in the
world should give no satisfaction ; but with this evidence,
all other testimony is unnecessary and superfluous. We
have an inspired rule by which to measure his moral
condition. ‘ By their fruits shall ye know them. 3 The
moral and religious character is the only standard of sal¬
vation furnished by our appointed judge. And let the
sectarian creed of our friend be what it may; let him
belong to what denomination he pleases; let him relate
what experiences he can; let him make what professions
he chooses ; all these are nothing in the account. For
so far as he commits sin, so far will his sin punish him;
and so far as he acquires holiness, so far will his holiness
reward him. He will, therefore, enjoy just so much of
heaven as he possesses of moral goodness, and no more;
and he will suffer just so much of hell as he possesses of
moral depravity, and no more. Consequently, he is saved
just so far a.s he is holy, and no farther; and he is damned
just so far as he is sinful, and no farther. This is true in
life ; it is true in death ; and it must be true in eternity
211
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
43
5 . From what has been said, we finally learn that in¬
nocence or reformation is the only method of escaping
the punishment of sin. We may indeed commit sin with
the expectation of avoiding its consequences. We may
employ the darkness of night, and the secrecy of the
grave, to conceal our iniquity. And for a time we may
elude the detection of our fellow mortals. But when we
are least aware, some event may occur, some circum¬
stance may arise, which shall reveal our infamy and our
disgrace to the world.—We may commit sin ; we may con¬
ceal it from every human being but ourselves; our labors
may be crowned with success ; the voice of gladness may
be heard in our dwellings ; the world may lay her riches
and her honors at our feet. But with all that time has to
offer, we shall still be miserable. For our wickedness
will have left a corroding disease on our very soul. And
we shall carry a hell in our own bosom which no earthly
offerings can ever quench or smother.—We may commit
sin; we may affirm that all actions are alike ; we may
ridicule religion, and scoff at all sacred things ; we may
plunge into the very vortex of dissipation, and pass along
the briery road of transgression, until arrested by the
summons of death. But his cold hand will dissipate all
the mists of infidelity and depravity. A knowledge of
our desperate wickedness will fill our souls with agony;
and convulsive cries for mercy will tremble on our
quivering lips.—We may commit sin; we may sear our
consciences so as to pass even the portal of the grave in
our delusion. But when the light of eternity bursts upon
our guilty souls, we shall come to a knowledge of our¬
selves ; our wilful disobedience, our sinful pollution, our
44
CHRISTIAN SALVATION.
212
wretched condition. And a sense, a realizing sense, of
our lost and ruined state, must fill our souls with * indigna¬
tion and wrath, tribulation and anguish.’ How can we
then escape the natural consequences of our profligate
course 1 Can we then flee from our own thoughts ? Can
we then desert our own reflections ? Can we then escape
from our own souls 1 Can we then hide from the inspec¬
tion of an omniscient and omnipresent God ? Oh no.
There is no escape from misery but in innocence or re¬
formation. It is not in the power of Jesus to deliver us
from the punishment of sin in any other way. He came
not to make us happy in our iniquities. This he could not
do. This God himself will not do. He must first aid us
in becoming good, before we can possibly be happy. Sin
and unhappiness are eternally inseparable. As well may
we expect to unite heaven and hell, as hope to make a
depraved soul happy in any way but by reformation. Let
me therefore beseech all who are guilty,— and who is
not 1 let me entreat you, as you value your present and
eternal salvation, to forsake and avoid sin, to acquire and
exhibit holiness. For ‘ without holiness no man shall see
the Lord.’
1st Series.
No. 35.
THE
GENIUS
CHRISTIANITY.
BY WILLIAM H. PDRXES8.
PRINTED FOR THE
Mmtizwi fruitarian Association
BOSTON,
GRAY AND BOWEN, 135 WASHINGTON STREET.
1830.
: % -
Price 4 Cents .
THE
GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
When Christianity was first preached, it produced a
very great sensation. Whole cities were thrown into an
uproar at its appearance, and it was said of its first preach¬
ers that they were turning the world upside down. Chris¬
tianity was not therefore at the first, quietly established,
but it was introduced into the minds of its first converts
amidst great public commotions. The feelings of the first
Christians must have partaken fully of that excited tone
imparted to every community in which the voice of our
Religion was first heard.
That the least heed should be given, under these cir¬
cumstances, to the humble affairs of daily duty, to the
common and natural obligations of life is the last thing to
have been expected. We should certainly never think
to have found such an one as the Apostle Paul with his
way of life and his habits of mind, paying any sort of at¬
tention to the ordinary offices of life. But we have only
to look into his epistles, those writings from which we ob¬
tain the best idea of the feelings and opinions of the
Christians of that period, and we shall find that never for
a single instant did Christianity permit her converts to
lose sight of the common relations of nature and society.
Take, for instance, the two epistles to the Thessalonians,
4
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY
244
At Thessaionica, Paul had preached Christianity at the
imminent hazard of his life, and was near being torn in
pieces by a mob. Upon his escape from that city, so
soon as he found opportunity, he wrote to the small
company of disciples he had collected there. And what
is the style of this incorrigible disturber of the public
peace? He beseeches his brethren to continue studiously
in the quiet performance of their usual duties, giving
us to understand that this had been the tenor of his in¬
structions from the first. Listen to his own words. “ We
beseech you that ye study to be quiet and to do your own
business and to work with your own hands, as we com¬
manded you, that ye may walk honestly toward them that
are without.” Again in the second of Ephesians. “Now
we command you, brethren, in the name of our Lord Jesus
Christ that ye withdraw yourselves from every brother
that walketh disorderly, and not after the tradition
which he received of us. For yourselves know how ye
ought to follow us, for we behaved not ourselves dis¬
orderly among you, neither did we eat any man's bread
for naught; but wrought with labor and travail that we
might not be chargeable to any of you, not because we
have not power but to make ourselves an example unto
you to follow us. For even when we were with you,
this we commanded you, that if any would not work,
neither should he eat. For we hear that there are some
who walk among you disorderly, working not at all, but
are busy-bodies. Now them that are such we command
and exhort by our Lord Jesus, that with quietness they
work and eat their own bread.”
In this earnest and explicit manner, the Apostle
sought to impress upon his brethren the importance of
245
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
5
quietness, regularity and good order. Consider what
the character of St Paul was. He was a man of ar¬
dent temperament—of great sensibility, and the circum¬
stances into which he had been all along thrown, were
such as to encourage and confirm the peculiarities of
his original constitution. With a warm and zealous
mind, his life had been one uninterrupted scene of ex¬
citement. His feelings had been early aroused by the
rise of a sect who appeared to him to throw contempt
upon his most sacred convictions—upon the religion of
his country and his ancestors. And when we recollect
the extraordinary means employed by Heaven to bring
him to be the most devoted defender of the persecuted
faith of Christ, we can hardly conceive how the balance
of his mind, with all its awakened sensibilities, was pre¬
served. Follow him in his course as an apostle of
Christianity. He journeyed from city to city, over land
and over sea, filled with the idea of a great change to be
wrought in the world. His mind must have been thronged
day and night with the most exciting images. And
wherever he appeared, wherever his voice was heard, an
extraordinary sensation was produced. Infuriated mobs
were collected. He was rescued by military force, car¬
ried before magistrates, thrown into prison, beaten, stoned,
left for dead, driven from place to place, and confronted
with kings. Habituated to such scenes, could his mind
descend with any sort of interest to the common realities,
and familiar details of daily duty ? In fine, is it not worthy
of remark, does it not give us a noble idea of Christian¬
ity, to find her at the stormiest periods, inculcating in a
clear and calm voice the homely duties of common life,
directing men to be quiet, orderly, to pursue their usual
vol. hi, — no. xxxv. 1*
6
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
246
occupations peaceably? While she was aiming at a great
moral revolution, the greatest that can be imagined, and
when the human mind must have boiled and foamed
around her, like a vexed sea, she partook not of the gene¬
ral excitement, but showed her superiority to it, and did
not permit the attention of men to be carried away, as it
was naturally and strongly inclined to be, from the pre¬
sent and usual sphere of human duty. She did not allow
the eternal lines which mark the natural obligations of
man, to be hidden by the flood of feeling that she had
called forth.
It is indeed a very singular, a most admirable trait in
our holy religion, that while it proposes the greatest ob¬
jects, deals in the sublimest truths, unfolds the largest
views of the moral government of the world, and of the
obligations and destiny of man, it takes proper and faith¬
ful cognizance of the every day matters of human life. It
invests man with new and lofty relations, throws around
him an unearthly light, teaches him to consider himself
as a celestial intelligence, the offspring of an Infinite Be¬
ing—eternity his duration, the universe his home. At
the same time it does not allow him to forget—it reminds
him in a tone clear and forcible, that he is a member of
the human family, bound by the common obligations, en¬
gaged in the daily labors, perhaps in the lowest manual
occupations of human life. The splendors of its revela¬
tions, concentrated as they were, were not allowed to
obscure, they were made to illuminate the humble sphere
of present duty. Christianity is a system at once the
most comprehensive and the most simple. While it
points to a boundless future, the contemplation of which
excites and ravishes the soul, it gives to the present its
217
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
7
due importance, and does not permit us to disregard the
claims that are near, however familiar they may be.
This, I conceive to be the beauty, the spirit, the genius of
our religion. While it animates us at the pros*pect of
what we are to become hereafter, it adapts itself perfectly
to man as he is here.
We perceive this beautiful characteristic of Christianity,
particularly as it was exhibited in the first days of our reli¬
gion, tempering the spirit of the apostles, which everything
was conspiring to excite, making it a duty among the new
converts, that they should give regular attention to busi¬
ness, live quietly, and perform faithfully the duties of their
several vocations. It was not simply the novelty of their sit¬
uation and their new views and feelings, that were calcula¬
ted to create a disgust at their old occupations, to render
them indisposed to the dull course of their ordinary labors.
They might very naturally have conceived, that when the
harvest was so great, and the laborers w'ere so few, it was
their duty to relinquish their customary pursuits, and to de¬
vote themselves to the great w T ork of reformation which had
commenced in the w r orld. Plausible as this course must
have appeared, when I consider that they did not adopt
it; or if they w r ere so inclined, that the apostle, by express
injunction,* commanded them to remain, each in the sta¬
tion, no matter how humble and laborious, in which the new
religion found him, Christianity receives my profoundest
admiration, and I feel that a system so exalting, so calcu¬
lated, I may say, to excite emotions amounting to rapture,
and at the same time so calm, sober and judicious, could
not have had a human origin — could not certainly have
* See particularly 1 Cop. vii. 10—22 inclusive.
s
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
248
been introduced by any human means, at that period at
which Christianity first appeared. In the perfection of
its morality, I perceive the impress of a divine hand.
Lest it should be conceived that I have attached a false
value to that characteristic of the religion of the New Tes¬
tament upon which I have now dwelt, and which I hold
to be a genuine token of divinity, I proceed to show that
it is not merely in connexion with the times of the apos¬
tles, that the peculiar excellence of Christianity is visible.
There are many other respects in which it is apparent
that we owe particular reverence to Christianity, for the
important influence it aims to exert upon man in his most
familiar duties, in the common routine of life.
1. In the first place, let it be observed that this trait in
the religion of the New Testament is, strictly speaking,
peculiar to it — that it belongs in no similar degree to any
other system. Compare Christianity with any other reli¬
gion, in the attention which it bestows upon man’s daily
conduct, in the fidelity with which it accompanies him
down among his most ordinary occupations, and in his
usual intercourse with the world, and you will find that it is
the spirit of all other religions and of all those false forms
which Christianity itself has been made to assume, to
make only occasional and partial requisitions of human
service — to leave men to themselves, except upon partic¬
ular days, and with regard to particular exercises. In-
fact, religion, except under the liberal dispensation of pure
Christianity, is a thing by itself, detached from all the
concerns of life, consisting of certain observances very
imposing perhaps, in the repetition of certain words, in
the profession of certain formulas, o? in the achievement
249
THE GENIE* OF CHRISTIANITY,
9
of great and separate acts of self-denial or charity. It is
altogether peculiar to our religion, according to a liberal
construction of it, that it dignifies the whole life, with all
its parts, public and private, social and domestic, with the
name of religious duty. It teaches us, that in our daily
intercourse with one another, in the humblest details, in
every matter of conduct, there is a way of acting and
feeling, which when a man pursues, he is entitled to the
appellation of a religious man, a Christian. It assures
us that a religious spirit can be expressed by a quiet and
industrious attention to business, as significantly as by a
prayer and a solemn rite. In the vocabulary of every
other system, religion signifies something separate, sa¬
cred, apart; but to the practised ear of an enlightened
Christian, it conveys a very different, a much larger mean¬
ing. It is but another word for the whole life, with all its
business quietly and regularly performed, all its pleasures
moderately enjoyed, all its evils patiently borne. It is
the general cultivation and happy and constant exercise of
one’s nature in all those ways in which it was intended to be
exercised. It is the healthy putting forth of the affections
around their natural objects. It is the enlargement of the
character, until it is made to fill all the parts of human duty,
2. If you would have still further evidence how entirely
peculiar it is to uncorrupt Christianity, to place the
whole life, with all its occurrences, within the sphere
of religious obligation, compare the Christian system in
this respect with the general sentiment of mankind, and
see how vastly superior it is. It is the general disposition
to make great account of great acts. Our moral judg¬
ments are determined by the manner in w^hich men act
upon great occasions, and we are apt to place religious
10
THE GENIUS CHRISTIANITY.
250
excellence altogether in the performance of striking deeds,
and little is thought of the general tenor of a man’s life.
We can scarcely help thinking well of an individual, if we
only know that he is zealous about religious forms, or that
he has occasionally done some great act of generosity.
Men attach little or no religious value to that form of
character which may be exhibited under the common re¬
lations of society. If the most that you can say of a man
is, that he is a faithful son, or an affectionate brother, or
that he is inflexibly upright in his calling — this may be all
very well — but it proves nothing in the general mind, as to
his possession of the temper and character of a Christian.
Nothing illustrates the general feeling on this point
more strikingly than the effect commonly produced upon
people’s minds in seasons of great religious excitement,
when men are more than ordinarily impressed. Then
what a disgust is created at that domestic, household reli¬
gion, that excellence which may be won and exhibited
in the common walks of life ! How does the excited mind
nauseate a humble calling, pant to quit its lowly sta¬
tion, and undertake the office of a spiritual leader.
If a want of the requisite qualifications, if the sex of
the individual preclude the possession of official weight,
still the domestic circle will be deserted, the foot will be
turned away from the familiar paths of life, and such
exercises will be engaged in, as best accord with the
enlivened sensibilities of the mind. The high labors of
devotion and exhortation, will be undertaken upon occa¬
sions and in places which have all the excitement of publi¬
city without the name.
Thus when men are taking the deepest interest in re¬
ligion, they only show how superior the moral tone of
251
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
11
Christianity is to their best moral sentiments. The gen¬
erality of believers have not yet come up to the spiritual
import of their religion. The Christian system, properly
viewed, makes account of our every-day feelings, of
manners even, of our social intercourse, of our domes¬
tic habits, and attaches to them a religious value, and
brings them into the estimate of the character. And if
men were really christianised in their sentiments, every
revival of religion would be marked by an increased
tenderness of conscience, not with regard to devotional
acts only — the outward forms and signs of religion, but
to the daily conduct and the natural obligations of human
life.
3. In further illustration of our subject, let us observe
how perfectly Christianity, in our view of the representa¬
tions which it makes of human duty, coincides with samo
of the plainest dictates of reason, some of the clearest
conclusions of common sense.
Where we are, we are stationed by our Creator.
And from the exquisite wisdom displayed in all hi3 ar¬
rangements, the inference is that our duty is Jierz, that
our chief labor is to be performed in that portion of his
vineyard which he has assigned us. And if we look in>
mediately around us, we may find enough to do. Are we
children 1 Then have we parents to honor and comfort.
Are we parents ? Then have we a great work to do; to
rear minds, the depths of whose resources, and the splen¬
dor of whose expectations, transcend our loftiest concep¬
tions. But it is unnecessary to enumerate all the relations
in which nature places us. From all of them spring du¬
ties. All furnish abundant occupations to our hearts and
hands. As then it is the dictate of reason, that the ser-
12
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
252
vice of human life lies among its domestic, social and civil
relations, so we cannot fail to honor Christianity, when we
find her corroborating this dictate, and pointing to the
very same sphere of duty.
4. Again, we infer that our principal duty is close to us,
within our personal circle ; not only because w r e find our¬
selves where we are through the overruling wisdom of
God, and have employment enough provided for us
in our ordinary duties, but also because it is appa¬
rent that, by filling his own place, one may do some¬
thing for the benefit of the whole family of man. What
a host of good influences would be sent through the
world, if every individual were to perform the duties of
his own station, no matter how obscure, to the utmost of his
ability. What a lively effect is produced by a bright ex¬
ample of diligence, integrity, and common kindness, upon
those who come within its attraction ! The young man,
just entering upon active life, looks up to him who has
won his admiration by his undeviating uprightness and
unfaltering perseverance, and his ambition is, to re¬
semble him whom he respects so profoundly. The fa¬
mily, in which good order and good will preside — how
lovely it is! and how is every man prompted to arrange
his own household upon the same beautiful plan. In a
similar way, the beneficial influence that is propagated
from individual to individual, and from family to family,
spreads from community to community, and from nation
to nation. The effect which a country like ours, with its
free institutions, has, and is destined to have, upon the
general condition of the world, is obviously beyond all
estimate. The longer our political prosperity lasts and the
more firmly it is consolidated, the more impatient will the
253
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
13
rest of mankind become of the numerous and unnecessary
drawbacks upon their liberties and their peace. Let one
free and happy community exist, and what can withstand
the stirring charm of its example 1 As the connexion be¬
tween the individual and his race is thus disclosed, the
simple religion of Jesus must appear beautiful and true,
when we observe how it aims to make every man fill the
place assigned him by Providence, to the best of his
ability.
5. But in order to see still more clearly that every man's
main duty in life lies among those, among whom nature
has placed him, suppose yourself for a moment detached
from all your present connexions, lifted out of the place
you occupy, and carried up to some eminence, where the
whole world — the whole field of moral exertion, might
be spread out before you. Suppose also, that you were
then required to select the scene of your labors —the spot
upon which you might endeavor to act upon mankind
with the best prospect of success. Now as a man can al¬
ways exert upon those whose modes of thinking, feeling
and speaking, whose habits of life, are in unison with his
own, a much readier and surer influence than upon
those who are separated from him by foreign ways
of thought and action, you would be compelled to return,
for the sphere of your efforts, to the very place from which,
by the supposition, you had just been withdrawn, for there
alone, in your natural circle, would you be surrounded by
those whose sympathies and habits are in the closest ac¬
cordance with your own. In the communication of moral
and intellectual good, there is need of some community
of thought and feeling between those who give and those
who receive. There can be but little intercourse that is
vol. in.— no. xxxv. 2
14
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
254
profitable between those who are separated from each
other in all their modes of mental association and of con¬
duct. Our principal duty, therefore, is among those to
whom we are most nearly assimilated in all these respects.
. And with whom do we, generally speaking, most closely
sympathise, but with those of our own kindred and tongue,
with those who have been subjected to the same influ¬
ences that have contributed to the formation of our own
tastes and habits ? Now all this cannot fail to magnify our
blessed religion — to increase our reverence for it, when
we find its spirit thus identical with the clear and sacred
voices of reason and nature.
6. There is yet another consideration, which, by show¬
ing that we are to be first and habitually devoted to those
who are nearest to us, helps to illustrate the lovely spirit
of pure religion ; and we cannot omit it. It is a remark¬
able fact, that while any single instance of distress oc¬
curring in our own neighborhood, excites the liveliest
sensation, a most extensive and awful calamity taking
place in a distant region of the earth, scarcely awakens
the most transient emotion. We are bereft of our compo¬
sure, and overwhelmed with pity, at the sight of an indi¬
vidual suffering before us ; but the tidings of some vast
city, in a distant portion of the world, laid in ruins by fire,
or laid waste by the plague, may arrive, and scarcely one
thrill of compassion vibrates through our hearts. Why is
this so ? Some may ascribe it to the perversity of our na¬
ture ; but it admits of an interpretation far more honorable
to the Creator. If we were affected by suffering in direct
proportion to its amount, whether it were near us, where
we might relieve it, or at a distance, where it would be
beyond the reach of our kind offices, we should be abso
255
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
15
lutely unfitted for the necessary business of life. We
should be in a state of perpetual excitement, and pass
our lives in the deepest affliction. Scarcely could we as¬
semble for any social purposes, before some melancholy
intelligence would arrive, and send us to our homes weep¬
ing and heart-broken. The wisdom of God has arranged
things differently. The misery which is near us, and
which it is within our ability to relieve, we are made to
feel intensely. But it would have been diffusing suffering
to a needless extent, if we had been made to be deeply
affected by those calamities, which, in proportion as they
are removed from us, it is out of our power to alleviate.
It is true, that as our benevolent affections are cultivated,
they range through a wider and ever enlarging circle.
But then they never can be cultivated, their growth is
never healthy, unless they are first and principally fos¬
tered at home, and towards those whom Providence has
thrown within the reach of our influence. Our sympa¬
thies may be powerfully swayed by the imagination, and
driven across seas and deserts ; but as a general truth,
they are powerfully affected by what is near, and but fee¬
bly touched by what is remote. This being our consti¬
tution, the inference admirably accords with the spirit of
the gospel, which teaches us that we do our duty best
when we are uniformly faithful to our natural and common
relations.
7. The genius of liberal Christianity advances another
claim upon our regard, when we observe how perfectly it
consults human comfort in the cognizance which it takes
of the daily feelings and habits — of those dispositions of
mind, which do not attract public observation. ‘ It is
not’ it has been observed by another < with gross acts of
16
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
256
vice, or with splendid virtue, that our religion is mainly
conversant. This is not its true spirit. It descends even
to that turn of sentiment which fashions the deportment
of man to man.’ It would preside in the daily inter¬
changes of domestic life, and incite to a thousand little
‘ endearing cares and engaging attentions.’ It would
teach us to be considerate, and to cheer all around us
with ‘ glad words and kind looks.’ In so doing it takes
a humble sphere, but it accumulates an untold amount of
happiness. Great deeds of benevolence, great acts of
generosity, no doubt produce a great deal of joy, and
make many hearts light, but ‘ a humane consideration,
a rational and habitual indulgence for others, evinced by
an uninterrupted sweetness of manner,’ does more, infi¬
nitely more, for the substantial and abiding comfort of
human life. The causes of great happiness or misery are
only occasional. It is the little occurrences of every day,
which, considered in themselves, may appear insignifi¬
cant, that go to make up the amount of human enjoyment
or misery. It is very seldom that you have an opportu¬
nity of saving the life of a fellow’ creature ; but every day
you may make some little contribution to the happiness of
those with wdiom you associate, either by a kind word, or
an encouraging smile. You are not often called upon to
submit to a great injury, or to forgive a determined ene¬
my ; but almost every hour of every day, some little for¬
bearance is to be practised, some little petulance of temper
to be pardoned. Christianity therefore, in taking into
her jurisdiction the usual course of human feeling and
conduct, is full of benevolent wdsdom, and show’s her¬
self acquainted with the w r ants of man. What an enor¬
mous w r aste may be made of the great sum of happi-
257
THE GENIUS OF CHIUSTIANITY.
17
ness, by the indulgence of a fretful, uncomplying temper
at home ! It may ruin the peace of a whole family, and
drive the husband and father to the forgetfulness of ex¬
cess. It is no common excellence in Christianity, that
its object is the diffusion of a peaceable, quiet, proper
spirit through the ordinary relations of society.
8. That religion is commonly thought to prefer the
best claim to our faith, whose requisitions betray no
weak indulgence, but are rigid and unbending — difficult
to be complied with. Upon this principle, Christianity,
in the fidelity of its moral bearings, manifests a decided
superiority. Great acts of virtue, of self-denial, or of pe¬
nance, are deemed the most praiseworthy, and the reli¬
gion that requires them is considered the most excellent,
because such acts are supposed to be the most difficult.
But the excellence of the gospel is as discernible in the
lowly sphere in which she aims to operate, as in the
higher walks of virtue. The intelligent observer will
perceive, that there is really more moral energy, and of
course, more true greatness displayed, in the ordinary
virtues, in the quiet and unostentatious exercise, for in¬
stance, of common kindness, than in any of those sacri¬
fices or in any of those great deeds, which are so dazzling,
and which we are very much assisted to perform by
the prospect of an immediate reward in the applause
they will command. It is, indeed, comparatively easy, to
make those great sacrifices which are only occasional.
Many a man will hazard his life for another,—perform
an extraordinary act of beneficence — watch with inces¬
sant care and admirable patience over the sick bed of one
whom he loves ; but where, where under heaven, shall we
find the individual, who preserves a cheerful tone of feeling,
VOL. hi. — no xxxv. 2*
38
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
258
a gentle manner, undisturbed amidst all the little causes of
vexation that arise even in the intercourse of the most
devoted of friends ? Where is the abode around which the
magic of domestic affection has been strong enough to keep
off every evil shape of suspicion and unkindness ? I know
that hitherto the world has attached no religious worth to
these humble and daily exercises of the social affections
of which I speak ; but I believe that they form the last
accomplishment of the truly religious man. They are
the last and brightest of those ornaments in which he be¬
comes completely adorned in this world, and which re¬
mind us that he is prepared for another. When you see
a man invariably kind in his temper, acting with perfect
propriety in all the minutice of life, with a heart so gentle
?.s to accommodate itself at once and exactly to the hap¬
piness of those around him, you have the surest evidence
that he has imbibed the divine spirit of Christianity.
The tree is loaded and is bending with fruit. If a celes¬
tial light were illuminating his person, you would not
have better proof that he is a child of God, a friend of
Jesus, and an heir of heaven.
9. There is a striking and beautiful correspondence
between this trait of our religion, upon which I have
now dwelt, and the external creation. The same mode
of divine wisdom is discernible, in the natural, and in the
spiritual world. We find the universe around us con¬
structed upon the largest scale, to effect the grandest pur¬
poses, and at the same time a delicate care is bestowed
upon its minutest parts and its humblest operations. The
shower which fertilizes hill and valley, sends its invisible
influence into every branch and bud, through the fibres
of the smallest plant. The law which guides the planets
259
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
19
in their paths, reaches to every atom. The light which
bathes the hemisphere in glory, is fitted to the organs
of the meanest insect. So is it found to be in the
moral world, as that has been displayed to us in the true
light of Christianity. The sublimest objects are revealed
to us. The doors of the spiritual universe have been
flung open before us. A firmament of moral glory is un¬
rolled over our heads, at the sight of which, an irrepres¬
sible longing after unknown good, a moral passion is
awakened within us. At the same time, tender heed is
given to our natural affections, and a careful provision is
made for their ordinary exercise. They are not swal¬
lowed up, lost and forgotten, in the glory that has been
revealed, but they are called out, and actively and con¬
tinually employed.
10. We began with observing, that when the Apostles
first preached the religion of their Master, a great sen¬
sation was produced. This remark may need to be
guarded. It may possibly be inferred from it, notwith¬
standing the general tenor of these pages, that Christian¬
ity is of an exciting nature. Whereas its spirit is peace.
It is true that great public disturbances attended its in¬
troduction. But this was owing to the state of the human
mind—to the ignorance and prejudices of men. Our
Saviour foresaw the consequences of the collision be¬
tween his peaceful doctrines and the interests and passions
of the world, and he said, ‘ Think you that I have come
to bring peace on earth, nay, but a sword.’ Every one
perceives that he adopted this striking mode of expres¬
sion, not because peace was not his great message, but to
show in an impressive manner how sure and inevitable
were the commotions by which the first steps of Christ-
20
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
260
ianity would be accompanied. So certain was it that
discord and confusion would ensue, that our Lord spoke
of these things as if they were the objects of his mission.
Still, unavoidable as some degree of violence was under
the circumstances of the times, it was accidental and
temporary. And no one can doubt that the main design
of our religion is to produce tranquillity and public order,
and that sobriety, quietness and regularity are the natural
fruits of Christianity. The legacy of its blessed Founder
was peace. It sought to operate on the human mind, not
by extravagance and excitement, but in a gentle and
gradual manner. Its coming in the soul is not with a
sudden blaze and with imposing circumstances, but it is
like the silent and slow operations of the material crea¬
tion. And here we may observe a still more striking
analogy than that last mentioned, between our religion
and the w T orks of nature.
It is the object of all religions but the religion of the
New Testament — it is the aim of many religious teach¬
ers at this day, — to startle men, to produce excitement
and turbulence in the mind. Now the design of the
Creator, so far as it is manifest in the course of nature
and providence, appears to be very different. He does
not aim to excite us, but to keep us calm and composed.
Only think how tremendous are the resources of his
omnipotence, and then look around you and see how
quietly he uses them. There are no dazzling and con¬
founding displays of power, such as we may easily con¬
ceive him to make if he chose. On the contrary, every
thing is done in the softest and stillest manner. It seems
as if God, remembering that we are dust, and knowing
how excitable a creature man is, took particular care not
261
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
21
to disturb and overthrow our minds. In an instant he
might make such an exhibition of his power as would
drive man to insanity, and blast his intellect by an over¬
whelming sense of terror. The Almighty, so far from
using any such means of impressing us, walks around us
with noiseless step, and carries on the magnificent opera¬
tions of nature slowly and silently, and seems to veil him¬
self from us in mercy. The wheels of God's creation
‘ creak not harsh thunder' as they turn, but they roll on
with a gentleness equalled only by the power that moves
them. Christianity in our view accords most beautifully
with the spirit of nature and providence. The ends at
which it aims are sublime, how simple and gentle are
the means ! It would fashion man, this poor fabric of
dust, to the glorious image of the Invisible God. But it
erects no imposing apparatus to effect this object. It bids
us cultivate faithfully our natural affections and discharge
our plain duties quietly and without ostentation ; and in
this way, the wonderful process of spiritual creation is
carried on and the human soul becomes a partaker of the
divine nature.
I have thus endeavored, in various ways, to exhibit
what I conceive to be the practical aim — the spirit of the
New Testament, because there is ever such a strong dis¬
position in the human mind, especially under deep reli¬
gious impressions, to start away from the natural sphere
of human duty, and to have its sense of moral obligation
disturbed by false, imaginary, and profitless requisitions.
It is not intended to be denied, that occasions arise
when we may go out of the usual routine of duty, with
advantage. While Christianity bids us do good, espe-
22
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY.
262
cially to them who are of the household of faith, it bids
us also do good to all, as we have opportunity. Oppor¬
tunities offer when the hand of charity may be extended
to a distant sufferer. Of such opportunities we should
avail ourselves. But we earnestly protest, — and we be¬
lieve that we do it in accordance with the genuine spirit
of our religion — we earnestly protest against the senti¬
ment so current, that these opportunities are the princi¬
pal occasions upon which our benevolent affections are to
be exercised — that they afford the chief room for our
religious faith to show itself; as if the common course of
life did not daily, hourly and momently, make demands
upon our kindness, our patience, our integrity, in short,
upon every quality that helps to constitute the Christian
character; as if the ordinary relations of the world did
not furnish, for the display of every Christian grace, a
vastly better opportunity than can be afforded by occa¬
sional calls upon our sympathy made by great and distant
objects.
If there were no other objection to this false sentiment,
it would be enough, that it sets up a most injurious stand¬
ard of character. He who is absorbed in striking schemes,
is extolled to the skies on this account. What he is in
common life, whether he is affable to those around him,
merciful to the poor debtor, and honorable in all his
transactions, are points which, if they are not wholly ne¬
glected, are deemed matters of inferior importance. On
the other hand, he who withholds his countenance from
the imposing movements made in behalf of some distant
object, no matter how irreproachable his character in the
common offices of the world, is regarded with coldness
and distrust.
263
THE GENIUS OP CHRISTIANITY.
23
But we have a greater objection still to this prevalent
mode of feeling. It is opposed to the whole spirit of the
religion of Jesus. That spirit we have taken many words
to illustrate; but if the world were only prepared to re¬
ceive it, it might be described in a very few. Charity and
all the Christian graces begin at home. This maxim is,
to be sure, in liberal use among those who are liberal in
nothing else. Still it is true. And it is better that it
should be sometimes perverted, than always forgotten.
Yes, our virtues must take firm root at our firesides.
They must tenderly overshadow our natural and familiar
friends, and then extend themselves to all those with
whom we have any dealings or intercourse. This is the
proper growth of the inward man, when nurtured by the
genius of Christianity. The costliest offering of religion
is to be rendered in the sphere of one’s personal influ¬
ence. There the choicest sacrifice must be kindled, and
watched day and night. If when thou corniest to lay thy
gift upon the altar of some public charity, thou remember
that thy brother has aught against thee, leave there thy
gift — but no, carry it back, and if it be possible, let it
help to cancel what is due from thee to thy brother. It
is idle for a man to profess to sympathise with the sor¬
rows of his race, to engage with a proper feeling in plans
of general benevolence, — he deceives himself,— if at the
same time he is harsh, impatient, and unforgiving, toward
that small portion of the human family, with which he
comes into daily contact. And on the contrary, if he who
is faithful to his common duties, whose kindness radiates
through the whole circle of his personal influence, at
the same time withhold his patronage from public
schemes of benevolence, it io not for his brethren to che-
24
THE GENIUS C? CHRISTIANITY.
264
vish toward him any feeling but the most cordial respect.
We cannot estimate the good which he is doing. So
long as he discharges so faithfully his duty to those around
him, which is his first duty, there is no room for anything
but approbation.
There is nothing so beautiful as the pure and uncor¬
rupt religion of Jesus Christ. Would you look upon its
beauty, fill yourself with its quiet, gentle, and glad spirit,
and in the still chambers of your own soul, God will make
unto you a great revelation. Truth, in her own divine
and eternal form, shall appear there. ‘ He who doeth
God’s will shall know the doctrine.* The tongue of an
angel could not give you such a sense of its worth and
glory, as you shall have, when it has thoroughly sanctified
you.
No 4 ft.
1st Series.
i
THE
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
OF
EARLY RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
BY' EEV. HESRY MONTGOMERY)
OF IRELAND,
PRINTED FOR THE
gtnm'ican Sanitarian Slssoctatton.
BOSTON,
GRAY AND BOWEN 141 WASHINGTON STREET.
1830.
Price 6 Cents.
This tract is taken from a volume of excellent discourses, written
by living Unitarian ministers in Great Britain. The volume bears
the title of 6 Sermons designed to be used m families; edited by
Rev. J R. Beard.’ Some passages in this discourse have been
omitted, to reduce it within the limits proper for the series.
PRINTED BY I. It. BUTTS....BOSTOS.
/
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
< A child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame.’— Solomon.
The advice given by Solomon, to c train up a child in
the way he should go,’ points out to us the only way, in
which any considerable advances can be made towards
the extension of piety and morality. Those who have
attained maturity, or arrived at old age, may indeed
sometimes be improved; but, as it is always difficult to
overcome prejudices and habits, every man who truly
aims at the solid improvement of his species, will direct
his efforts to that point, in which they are most likely to
be successful. Where prejudices cannot exist — where
evil habits cannot have been formed — where worldly
maxims and pursuits have not had time to make inroads
upon the integrity of the heart—this is the soil (the
open, the ingenuous, the uncontaminated bosom of
youth,) in which prudence and affection will sow the
good seeds of religion and virtue, with the rational and
delightful prospect of an abundant increase.
We, my fellow Christians, look upon little children,
not as the objects of God’s wrath, but as the peculiar
objects of his paternal affection. We do not, indeed,
4
I3IP0RTANCE AXD METHOD
38
consider them to be perfect; they have within them, the
elements of future actions; of propensities and passions,
of virtues and vices, which may raise them to honor, or
sink them to degradation: but we view their hearts* and
their minds as subjects of moral culture; as soils, which
we may wonderfully improve, and into which we may
cast good seed; or, as fields, which we may permit to
be overgrown with weeds, or even to be sown with
tares by an enemy. In fact, we adopt the admirable
and incontrovertible sentiment of John Locke, and look
upon the infant heart and mind, c as clean white sheets
of paper,' upon which the characters of virtue may be
traced by the hand of prudence, or those of vice im¬
printed by the hand of folly. Considerable difference,
no doubt, sometimes exists between one child and
another, (as there does in all other animals,) with regard
to talents and constitutional temperament; but the
wisest of men have maintained, and experience has
fully proved, that the difference produced by nature is
much less than that which is produced by education.
Nature, with a benignant and impartial hand, has be¬
stowed her gifts equally upon the savage and the civil¬
ized; yet, when we contemplate a barbarous horde, and
turn again to a cultivated and Christian community, we
can scarcely trace the characters of the same species.
And, even in civilized countries, the disparity between
one man and another, between the unlettered peasant,
for instance, and the accomplished philosopher, is truly
astonishing; yet, the difference is not the work of na¬
ture. As to the ground-work and essentials of true
greatness, it is very possible, that the clown may be, in
reality, the superior man.
39
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
5
In fact, the general history of mankind, and the brief
page of our own observation and experience, incon-
testibly prove, that men are almost entirely the crea¬
tures of education. Our knowledge, our tastes, our
habits, our manners, our morals, nay, even our very
religious opinions, principally depend upon it. There
is no being in creation so little what nature formed it as
man. If we look to any of the inferior animals, we find
the same species almost exactly similar, on every part
of the globe; but we never see two tribes or two nations
of men alike; nor even two individuals of the very same
country and society. Manners and customs, virtues
and vices, knowledge and ignorance, principles and
habits, are, with but little variation, transmitted from
one generation to another; and, if we look for man in a
state of nature, he is a being nowhere to be found. In
every country, education and circumstances chiefly
form his principles and habits ; and these almost inva¬
riably remain with him through life; so that he is much
more permanently what he has become, than what he
was created. The wise men and the fools, the saints
and the sinners, the ornaments and the disgraces, the
benefactors and the scourges of the world, are not the
work of nature, but of man. I do most cordially agree
with a sentiment which I have some where seen ex¬
pressed, ‘ that nature never made a villain.’ Consti¬
tutional temperament and mental powers may render
some an easier prey to temptation and circumstances,
than others ; but I do most firmly believe, that in almost
every case, the natural energies and talents, which
have carried unfortunate wretches onward to the com¬
mission of enormous crimes, would, if they had been
VOL. iv. — no. II. 1 *
6
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
40
properly directed from childhood, have exalted them to
eminence in virtue. The very same misguided ingenu¬
ity that has brought many a miserable malefactor to
the gallows, might have raised him, under happier cir¬
cumstances and better instruction, to fortune and to
fame. Do w r e not find, indeed, in strict conformity with
this position, that almost all the wretched beings, who
forfeit their lives to the outraged law’s of society, attrib¬
ute their destruction to a neglected education, or to evil
company in their earlier days? What an awful and im¬
portant lesson is this circumstance calculated to teach
parents, and, indeed, to all who have, in any way, the
oversight and guidance of the young! A single folly
encouraged, a single evil passion suffered to triumph, a
single vicious habit permitted to take root, in what an
awful catastrophe may it one day terminate!
It may not be unnecessary to state here, that by the
word education, which I have already used, and which
I shall have occasion frequently to use in this discourse,
I do not mean merely, nor even principally, school
learning; but, in the widest sense, everything which
has a tendency to influence the mind, the principles,
the temper, and the habits of the young. In this legiti¬
mate sense of the term, we are bound to consider the
restraining of improper desires, and the encouragement
of virtuous sentiments, to be a much more important
part of education, than having children taught to read
and write and cast accounts. This valuable species of
moral instruction even the most illiterate parent is ca¬
pable of bestowung, and has constant opportunities of be¬
stowing; and, believe me, he or she, who omits this duty,
will one day have bitter cause to lament such negligence.
41
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 1 .
7
The temper and dispositions of a child, upon which
so much of the happiness or misery of life depends,
are the earliest objects of watchfulness and interest;
and every person, who has at all observed children,
must be aware how exceedingly early these begin to
develope themselves. In fact, they appear almost with
the first smile, or the first tear; and it is quite astonish¬
ing, how soon the infant can read the expression of the
countenance, and how soon it becomes sensible of praise
or blame. Long before it can either utter or under¬
stand a single syllable, the little physiognomist can
decipher the sentiments of the mind, in the features of
the face. So wonderful is this almost instinctive per¬
ception of character, that, I think, I have never seen a
child spontaneously extend its arms to a person who
was decidedly cruel or ill natured. Even then, educa¬
tion may begin; nay, I am persuaded, ought to begin,
I know that there is nothing more common with parents,
and with others who have the care of children, than to
laugh at violent bursts of bad temper, or instances of
peevishness and selfishness: and this practice is usually
palliated upon the weak supposition, that such feelings
may be easily subdued as the child grows older; or, to
use the vulgar phrase, c when it gets more sense.’
But, I firmly believe, that in nine cases out ten, the
requisite portion of sense never comes ; whilst the per¬
nicious tendency and habit as certainly remain. This
may appear a very trifling, perhaps undignified, or
even ludicrous remark; but, from experience and obser¬
vation, I am deeply convinced of its importance; well
knowing, that nothing so materially tends to sweeten or
to embitter the cup of human life as temper.
8
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
42
A well regulated temper is not only an abundant source
of personal enjoyment and general respect to its fortunate
possessor, but also of serious advantage to others in all
the social relations. I have seen the mother of a family,
under its hallowed influence, moving in the domestic
circle with a radiant countenance, and like the sun in
the firmament, diffusing light and joy on all around her.
I have seen her children artless and happy, her domes¬
tics respectful and contented, and her neighbors emu¬
lous in offices of courtesy and kindness. Above all, I
have seen her husband returning, with a weary body
and an anxious mind, from the harassing avocations of
the world; but, the moment he set his foot upon his
own threshold, and witnessed the smiling cheerfulness
within, the cloud of care instantly passed away from
his brow, and his heart beat lightly in his bosom, and
he felt how much substantial happiness a single indi¬
vidual, in a comparatively humble station, may be
enabled to dispense. Yet, how many scenes of a very
different character are every day exhibited in the world,
where the evils of poverty are augmented ten-fold by
the miserable burthen of a peevish and repining spirit;
and where the blessings of affluence seem only to supply
their possessors with additional means of manifesting
the extent of wretchedness, personal and social, which
ill-regulated tempers are able to produce ! Many a
man, whose judgment is adequate to direct the destinies
of nations, whose eloquence enraptures senates, and
whose playful wit and vivid fancy render him the idol
of the brilliant circles of fashion, is, nevertheless, to¬
tally unable to govern his own temper, and never enters
his home, (that spot which, of all others upon earth,
43
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
9
should be peculiarly consecrated to gentleness and affec¬
tion.) in any other character than that of a cold, gloomy
and capricious tyrant. Let it be remembered, too, that
the influence of temper is coextensive with society
itself; and it will not appear a matter of trifling mo¬
ment, to devise the best means of regulating and
restraining a principle, so intimately associated with the
general happiness of our species.
Next to the regulation of the temper, should come
what may be termed the moral part of education; and
this, I am persuaded, may also commence at a very early
period of life. Children can distinguish between right
and wrong much sooner than a superficial observer
would imagine. Playthings are to them the same as
property to men; and in the details of the nursery
may be found a miniature representation of almost
all the passions, that actuate society. Sentiments of
honor, generosity, integrity, benevolence, and truth
may all be cherished at a very early age; whilst mean¬
ness, selfishness, dishonesty, unkindness and falsehood
may be as early and effectually restrained.
So fully am I convinced of the paramount importance
of a minute and anxious attention to the very dawnings
of reason and of passion, that I am convinced, if we knew
the early history of the eminent men who have most
adorned and benefited the world, we might trace back
the stream of their usefulness and their fame to the nur¬
sery— to the pure fountain of maternal prudence and
affection. I trust I shall not be accused of degrading
either my character or my office, by the meanness of flat¬
tery, when I declare my firm persuasion, that in all the
10
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
44
social, friendly, and most estimable relations of life, in
everything that tends to sweeten the cup of mortality,
the influence of woman is inconceivably superior to that
of man. But it is in the earliest and most important
years of existence, that her influence is of unspeakable
consequence. The first dawning of reason, the first
stirring of passion, the first line of character, are marked
by her eye. Her familiarity and affection remove all
restraint, and she can distinctly perceive the very inmost
workings of the heart and mind. 4 From earliest dawn
till latest eve,’ her eye follows the beloved object of her
hopes and fears ; so that she enjoys constant opportuni¬
ties of checking every symptom of folly, encouraging
every appearance of virtue, and deducing lessons of im¬
provement from every occurrence, and from every sur¬
rounding object. On the contrary, man, engaged in the
turmoil of business, the cares of a profession, or any of
the thousand harassing avocations of the world, returns
home, rather to relax his mind, by indulging his little
ones, than to search for imperfections, or to punish faults.
His return is generally a little jubilee in the domestic
circle, and it would be hard to act the part of a rigid
censor; to cast a gloom over cheerful faces, or to freeze
the current of enjoyment in happy hearts. Praise is al¬
ways freely, if not always justly given ; and the father of
a family often knows less of the real dispositions and
characters of his children, than the humblest domestic
in his establishment.
If we look to the commencement of learning, it is
upon the mother that task also must fall. Her patience,
her perseverance, her affection, alone, are equal to sustain
()F RELIGIOUS EOL'C'ATIO.V.
II
45
the irksome drudgery of that weary season — irksome,
even where nature has been most bountiful ; but pecu¬
liarly harassing, where she has been sparing of her gifts.
And then, in sickness, in all the various diseases incident
to youth, who to sustain the heavy head, to administer
the healing medicine, to watch the feverish slumber, to
bear with all the untoward peevishness of youthful suf¬
fering— who, but that same unwearied friend, that kind¬
est gift of Heaven — the Christian Mother ?
Fully, therefore, am I convinced, that in the com¬
mencement of education, which gives direction to the
whole of coming life, mothers have by far the more difficult
and more important duties to perform. No young person
(and I would to God that I could imprint this sentiment
indelibly upon every youthful mind) can ever be suffi¬
ciently grateful to a good and a prudent mother ; nor suffi¬
ciently thankful to a benignant Providence, if he have
been blessed with such a parent. But, if such be the
inestimable advantage of maternal affection regulated by
prudence, and of maternal gentleness tempered by firm¬
ness, the evil accruing to children from a weak, a careless,
or a wicked mother, is equally incalculable. Of all the
calamities which could befal an unfortunate family, that
of an indiscreet, negligent, criminal, irreligious mother,
would seem to me the greatest. Hence, Solomon so
emphatically observes — ‘ A child left to himself bringetlfi
(not his father but) ‘ his mother to shame. 5 His miscon¬
duct reflects peculiar disgrace upon that parent, who,
from her situation and duty, has been placed by nature,
to watch over his early years ; to train him up in the
paths of religion, of virtue, and of peace. An unceasing
anxiety with regard to the interests of the young, a little
12
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
46
reading of biography, some observation of characters,
and a great deal of conversation with wise and experi¬
enced men have led me to this conclusion, that in almost
every case, the children of a prudent, intelligent, faithful,
virtuous and religious mother become prosperous, happy,
and honored in the world ; whilst those of a negligent,
ignorant, or sinful mother, rarely attain common respec¬
tability, and much less eminence or distinction. Doubt¬
less, some exceptions to this general principle might be
easily pointed out, but they could not invalidate the tes¬
timony of ‘ the cloud of witnesses,’ which might be ad¬
duced upon the opposite side of the question. Every
person who has carefully looked into the world, with a
view of tracing the formation of human character, must
be convinced, that the influence of fathers is neither so
great nor so extensive. The unhallowed example of
many a worthless father has been rendered totally innox¬
ious, by the wisdom and vigilance of a virtuous mother ;
whilst the most judicious arrangements and the most in¬
defatigable exertions of the best of fathers have been
entirely defeated by the perverse and sinful indulgence
of weakly, affectionate and imprudent mothers.
Might not this very plain statement enforce a most sal¬
utary lesson, with regard to the education of females?
From the cradle to the grave, they are the ornament, the
solace, and the blessing of man. Our first smile is drawn
forth by their tenderness, our returning cares are soothed
by their sympathy, and, when sterner natures flee from
the chamber of suffering, our latest sigh is answered by
their affection. It is principally, however, as being the
chief agents in forming the dispositions and characters of
the rising generation, that their influence is powerful and
47
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
13
extensive, beyond all calculation. True, they sit not in
the senate, but they form the legislators who are to guide
the destinies of our country; they preside not upon the
bench, and they enter not the jury box, yet the balance
and the sword of justice are under their control; they do
not ascend the pulpit, but the principles and usefulness
of the divine are chiefly of their formation; they engage
not in the toils of a profession, or the affairs of trade,
but they mould the characters of those, upon whose in¬
tegrity and talents the happiness of individuals and the
prosperity of the nation so materially depend.
I do, then, seriously ask every good and every think¬
ing man, if any education could be too extensive and too
solid for human beings engaged in the discharge of such
important duties; whose influence pervades the entire
frame of society, reaching from the cottage to the palace,
and extending in its results from time even to eternity ?
I know it is urged by many, that the sole business of
woman is to regulate her domestic concerns, to promote
the comfort of her husband, and to attend to the manage¬
ment of her children; and that, for such purposes, only
a small share of learning or knowledge is required. Now
the error here, lies not in a mistaken estimate of what
are really the principal concerns of woman, (for undoubt¬
edly the domestic circle is the proper sphere both of her
usefulness and honor,) but in underrating the qualifi¬
cations necessary for the faithful and efficient discharge
of her important duties. The very regulation of the or¬
dinary affairs of a household must be defective, where
there is a want of order, and energy, and information, in
the presiding intellect; and it is not easy to conceive
how the rational enjoyments of an enlightened husband
VOL IV. -NO. II. 2
14
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
48
can possibly be promoted by the society of a wife, in
whose tastes and acquirements he can neither find sym¬
pathy nor edification. With regard to the management
of children, no talents, no endowments can be too high
for so important a task. Even in the lowest mechanical
employment, the artisan requires to understand the prop¬
er use of his implements, and the nature of the materials
upon which he is to operate ; and surely, a Christian
mother, whose own mind is either a waste or a wilder¬
ness, must be totally unfitted for enlarging the under¬
standings, cultivating the dispositions, regulating tire
principles, and forming the habits of her offspring. In
truth, such a mother is doubly unfitted for her station ;
first, by incapacity ; and again, in being unable to secure
that filial reverence and respect, which are essential to
the due efficacy of all parental instruction.
Let it not be supposed, however, that I am an enemy
to what are termed ‘ female accomplishments/ On the
contrary, I consider them, when moderately and ration¬
ally pursued, as eminently calculated to refine the taste
and harmonize the feelings of those who possess them,,
whilst they powerfully tend to sweeten the intercourse of
the domestic and friendly circle, to augment the enjoy¬
ments of general society, and to cast a sunshine over the
gloomy realities of life. Amidst the ten thousand pur¬
suits and cares of the world, the mind and the spirits re¬
quire relaxation, as well as the body ; and the tastes and
circumstances of women peculiarly fit them for the ac¬
quisition of those accomplishments, which interest the
understanding, whilst they soothe the heart. Many a
father have I seen, after a toilsome and anxious day, re¬
laxing his brow of care, and considering all his exertions
4T)
OE RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
15
as more than repaid, whilst, with parental pride, he noted
the improvement, or joined in the innocent amusements
of his children, and cast a look of gratified affection upon
the faithful companion of his life ! I know nothing in phi¬
losophy, I know nothing in religion,which forbids such feel¬
ings and such enjoyments. Yet, I am persuaded, that ac¬
complishments should only be the adjuncts of education,
and not its principal business, or its chief end; and, in my
mind, there is nothing incompatible between elegance
and solidity. On the contrary, I am convinced, that the
mind which is most enlarged by the possession of sub¬
stantial knowledge, is the best calculated to appreciate
and to enjoy those less serious branches of education,
which tend to cheer and to ornament society. I do not
despair of seeing the time, when young females shall
consider themselves infinitely better employed in reading
the real history of nations, than in perusing volumes of
unnatural fiction, which only fills the mind with false
ideas, and the heart with injurious feelings — when they
shall be no more ashamed of learning ancient than mod¬
ern languages, or of attending instructions in philosophy
which would enlarge their understandings, than of fre¬
quenting the gaudy circles of fashion and amusement —
when they shall think it more honorable to possess such
a knowledge of moral science and the principles of hu¬
man action and duty, as would render them useful moth¬
ers, than to imitate, after years of labor, * the wino; of a
butterfly, or the hue of a rosed
It may be inquired, however, would I educate every
woman for a governess ? Yes, most assuredly. Every
mother is, or at least ought to be, a teacher of the holiest
and most interesting kind. Various avocations may pre-
16
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
50
vent her from being a regular instructed but no earthly
consideration should preclude her from being the occa¬
sional, nay the frequent teacher of her children. In or¬
der that she may be able to act thus, to select proper
assistants in the sacred work, to judge of their fidelity
in the execution, and to preserve a spirit of energy and
zeal, it is absolutely necessary that she should herself
possess the requisite qualifications. I care not what
may be her station, this is her duty. If her rank be
humble, prudence, economy, and a laudable desire to
advance her family demand it. If her rank be exalted,
many considerations render it still more imperative.
Too many, I fear, in affluent circumstances imagine,
that because they can afford ample remuneration to
competent instructers, they are therefore exempted
from all personal attention to the education of their chil¬
dren. No error could be more fatal. In the higher
ranks of life, where young persons are perpetually
surrounded by fawning and interested flatterers, where
the innate vanity and presumption of the human heart
are inflamed by indulgence and conscious superiority,
no authority less than parental is adequate to restrain
the passions, to discipline the principles, to form the
habits, and to animate exertion. And, let it be farther
considered, that in proportion as the station is exalted,
so is the influence of the individual occupying it ex¬
tended. The happiness of thousands frequently de¬
pends upon the disposition and character of a single
person. The affluent man, of enlightened piety, hu¬
mane sentiments, cultivated understanding, and enlarg¬
ed views of public usefulness, is often the means of dif¬
fusing over a wide circle the inestimable blessings of
O
51
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
1?
religion and morality, of industry and prosperity, of
cheerfulness and peace. On the other hand, the igno¬
rant and profligate man of wealth, without knowledge
or inclination to do good, possessing ample means for
the gratification of degrading passions and tyrannical
propensities, necessarily becomes a moral pestilence,
diffusing the contagion of vice and misery through all
the channels of social life around him. Of what pecu¬
liar importance is it, therefore, not only for their own
honor and happiness, but also for the good of society,
that persons occupying influential stations should re¬
ceive a solid and virtuous education.
The Christian mother, who imagines that her rank ex¬
empts her from the duties of parental vigilance and in¬
struction, wofully miscalculates the nature of her office;
and she who looks upon it as a degradation to be¬
come the instructress of her own children, is a total
stranger to that which constitutes the highest honor of her
sex and station. In the circle of fashion, she may be
fair and lovely; her accomplishments may secure the
admiration of others, and swell her own heart with
vanity : but, after all, such is not the true scene of
her genuine interest, and respectability and happiness.
The sphere of her substantial, unfading honor lies
far away from the crowded haunts of amusement, in a
peaceful and secluded apartment of her happy home.
There, in the midst of her little ones, she represses the
frowardness of one, encourages the diffidence of anoth¬
er, and ‘ in familiar phrase and adapted story’ pours
lessons of instruction into the minds of all. With a
mother’s gentleness, she draws forth their talents;
with a mother’s firmness, she regulates their tempers;
VOL. iv. — no. II. 2 #
18
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
52
with a mother's prudence, she prepares them to adorn
their station upon earth; and with a mother’s piety,
she leads them in the onward path towards heaven.
The wide expanse of the globe presents no object more
interesting, more exalted, or more useful than such a
Christian parent; nor is there any spot of nature, on
which the eye of Omniscience rests with more com¬
placency, than upon the retired and peaceful scene of
her virtuous labors. Such a mother becomes the centre
of a system of usefulness, of whose extent the imagina¬
tion can form no adequate conception; for there is not
a single worthy principle which she instils, that may not
descend as the ornament and solace of ten thousand
generations. For my own part, I have always consid¬
ered parents, who devoted their leisure hours to the in¬
struction of their offspring, as the most estimable and
the most useful members of society; and I never could
read the story of the Spartan king, who was found by
the Persian ambassadors playing in the midst of his
children, without looking upon that circumstance as
more honorable than all his victories. I do especially
believe, that no plan could be devised for elevating the
entire frame of society half so efficacious, as that which
would produce a succession of well-instructed, judicious
and virtuous Christian mothers. The laws of the states¬
man, and the lessons of the divine, would be but feeble
instruments of prevention and reformation, in compari¬
son with the hallowed, all-pervading agency of mater¬
nal wisdom, energy and affection. Let it not be sup¬
posed, however, that I am the advocate of visionary
schemes of education. It would neither be practicable
nor desirable, for every woman to become deeply learn-
53
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 7 .
19
ed ; but I would have every female substantially edu¬
cated, in proportion to her rank, her abilities and her
opportunities. This is surely neither unreasonable nor
impracticable; and I am persuaded, that in this age of
increasing light, it is a subject which will gradually se¬
cure a larger portion of public consideration.
The paramount importance of a minute and anxious
attention to the principles and habits of the young,
naturally suggests the absolute necessity of the strict¬
est vigilance in the selection of domestic servants. In
all families, above the very lowest ranks, domestics are
necessarily the frequent, and, in many cases, the ordi¬
nary companions of children. It is much to be lament¬
ed, that the young are seldom admitted to the presence
of their parents, except at stated times of formal exhibi¬
tion and indulgence. They are, therefore, at a period
of life, when the mind is perpetually demanding infor¬
mation, and the heart peculiarly susceptible of impres¬
sions, thrown almost entirely upon their own resources,
or upon the casual assistance of servants. If these be
ignorant, they cannot satisfy the cravings of the mind
after knowledge; if they be superstitious, they must
inspire visionary and enfeebling terrors ; and if they be
blasphemous or licentious in their language, they ne¬
cessarily corrupt the principles and habits. Have we
not all known melancholy instances, in which the mout
affectionate and judicious exertions of parents have
been totally counteracted, even by the casual associa¬
tion of a profligate domestic? and what must be the
fatal consequences, when the young mind is exposed
to the perpetual influence of ignorance and immorality?
Yet, how seldom do these considerations occur, even in
20
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
54
the engagement of those domestics whose special prov¬
ince is the management of the young! The principal
qualifications sought for are, manners, accent, personal
neatness, and habits of attention. These, I admit, are
all desirable ; but what are they, without the accompa¬
niment of religious principles, pure conversation, and a
virtuous deportment ? Few individuals would be dis¬
posed to admit into their families persons who were la¬
boring under a contagious disease, although the ca¬
lamity could only be temporary, and the utmost penalty,
earthly loss : and, yet, how little do they dread the ad¬
mission of those who may infect the very hearts and
spirits of their children with a moral pestilence, equally
awful and incurable! For my own part, I solemnly de¬
clare, that I would prefer the introduction of a fever
into my dwelling, to the residence of a servant, for a
single month, in familiar intercourse with my children,
whose habits w 7 ere immoral, and whose conversation
was indecent or profane.
The truth is, the best exertions of parents must fail to
preserve their offspring uncontaminated, amidst unprin¬
cipled and profligate domestics. It, therefore, becomes
a matter of the most serious concern to every Christian
parent, to ascertain the best means of securing a suc¬
cession of servants, worthy of his confidence and protec¬
tion. This desideratum can only be obtained, by con¬
ferring upon the humbler ranks the means of procuring
a reasonable literary education, based upon the solid
foundation of religious and moral principles. Every
man of affluence, and every man in the middle walks of
life, may assist in carrying forward this great w r ork, not
merely by his pecuniary contributions, but also by his
55
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
21
countenance and personal exertions in promoting Sun¬
day School instruction. The Lord’s day is peculiarly
favorable for the inculcation of religious principles;
and I know not how the immediate service of God can
be more properly preceded or followed, than by acts of
beneficence and good-will towards our fellow-creatures.
Let it be remembered, too, that our exertions in this
holy cause will be like the mercy, so beautifully de¬
scribed by the poet, ‘ twice blest — blessing him that
gives, and him that receives.’ Besides c the luxury of
doing good,’ we shall receive a solid recompense in the
faithful, virtuous, and exemplary domestics, whom we
are preparing for ourselves, and our children, and our
children’s children. Were we, in addition to these in¬
structions, to require of all the inmates of our dwell¬
ings a regular attendance upon the stated ordinances
of religion, and to associate them with ourselves in our
family devotions, we should still farther secure their
fidelity and affection.
Yet, after all, we ought to be the principal compan¬
ions of our own children. It is unnatural, it is criminal,
it is destructive, to throw them almost exclusively into
the society of those, who must be, at best, but ill quali¬
fied, and not much inclined, to be their instructors.
Can there be any soil more worthy of our sedulous cul¬
tivation, than the minds and the hearts of our own off¬
spring ? The period is approaching in which we shall
have to render an account for every gift of Providence;
and for none shall we be more awfully responsible, than
for the immortal souls committed to our care.
If education be of such vast importance, as I have en¬
deavored to demonstrate, every attempt to explain the
22
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
56
most proper method of conducting it is entitled to serious
consideration. I proceed, therefore, to make a few plain
observations, which may, I trust, under the influence of
divine grace, be the means of impressing the minds of
some with a deeper sense of duty, and assisting con¬
scientious parents to 4 train up their children in the way
they should go . 5
Good principles being equally the ground-work of all
true virtue and of all solid happiness, parents ought very
early to impress upon the minds of their offspring an
abiding sense of the existence, the presence, and the
providence of God. and thus lay the foundation of a re¬
ligious education. I say, of a religious education; for
I am firmly pursuaded, that ah instruction, which is not
connected with the great principles of Christianity, rests
upon a basis totally devoid of permanency and security.
If parents inculcate the necessity of diligent application,
obliging manners, and moral respectability, merely upon
the ground of temporal convenience or advantage, their
education is like 4 the bouse which was built upon the sand ; 5
for, when the winds and the floods of trial and temptation
beat upon it, it will assuredly fall. But an education
conducted under the sacred sanctions of religion resem¬
bles 4 the bouse which was founded upon a rock ; 5 it will
stand secure, a shelter and a home, amidst all the storms
and agitation of the world.
I am very far from desiring, however, that young per¬
sons should become religious professors, unnatural de¬
votees, or ignorant controversialists. Ridiculous stories
of wonderful children have been told, and written, and
circulated, to the serious injury of true piety, and the
mortification of all sober-minded Christians. Poor young
creatures scarcely acquainted with the rudiments of
57
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
23
human learning, and knowing no more of the divine
word, than the few passages which they have been taught
to repeat in confirmation of some favorite dogma, are
often represented as ‘ understanding all knowledge and
all mysteries ; ’ as more competent judges of the sublime
doctrines of the Bible, than some of the wisest and the
best of men, and as enjoying the immediate ‘ testimony
of the Spirit/ with regard to the truth of their own
opinions. Such representations have the most powerful
tendency to destroy the natural modesty and ingenuous¬
ness of youth, to fill the mind with delusion and the
heart with presumption, to encourage false profession,
and undermine the very foundations of rational piety.
Yet, whilst I feel myself bound to condemn such a pre¬
tended and unattainable knowledge of the ‘ deep things of
Heaven’ on the part of mere children, I do most strenu¬
ously maintain, from my own observation and experience,
that they may be very early taught to know that there is
a God who made them, who supplies all their wants,
who sees all their actions, who is acquainted with all
their thoughts, who is pleased with them when they do
right, and who is offended when they do evil. We all
know, how early imaginary fears may be impressed upon
the mind, and how exceedingly difficult it is to efface
them, even when they are disowned by the growing rea¬
son of succeeding years. In many cases, the highest
powers of understanding, and the most profound senti¬
ments of religion, are inadequate to remove them. The
celebrated Dr Johnson, one of the greatest ornaments of
English literature, who labored so zealously and so suc¬
cessfully to eradicate moral error from the minds of
others, was himself, to the latest hour of his existence, a
24
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
58
slave to the superstitious dread of apparitions! How
easy and how salutary a task must it then be, to imbue
the mind with the rational and filial fear of God — a fear
which grows with the powers of the understanding, and
increases with the devout affections of the heart! There
is certainly no other sentiment, in the entire range of
virtuous feelings, calculated to be so powerfully and so
permanently influential on human conduct, as a reveren¬
tial and abiding sense of the constant presence and pro¬
vidence of the Supreme Being. Even before the eyes
of their fellow-mortals, men are deterred from commit¬
ting acts of indecency and criminality; and surely, if
they could be induced seriously to consider, that the eye
of Omniscience is the perpetual witness of all their
thoughts, and desires, and actions, the most powerful
barrier would be erected against the inroads of all im¬
piety and immorality. It appears to be upon this prin¬
ciple, that ‘ the fear of the Lord’ is so emphatically
called in Scripture, ‘ the beginning of wisdom ; ’ and
therefore it is a matter of the highest importance, to as¬
certain in what manner a sentiment so valuable may be
most effectually attained. All men are agreed with re¬
gard to the period of life, at which this important princi¬
ple ought to be inculcated. ‘ Remember thy Creator in
the days of thy youth,’ is a precept received with univer¬
sal approbation. But, whilst this perfect accordance of
opinion exists with respect to the paramount importance of
endeavoring to infuse principles of piety into the human
mind at a very early period of existence, there is by no
means the same agreement of sentiment as to the best
means of accomplishing so desirable an end. I shall
not occupy time, by examining the various opinions
59 OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. -5
which have been advanced upon this subject, but con¬
tent myself with explaining a very simple method, which,
from experience, I would recommend as efficacious in
raising the minds and the affections, even of very young
persons, to the glorious Author of all good.
It may be safely laid down as an incontrovertible po¬
sition, that the mere use of words, how proper soever
in themselves, to which the person employing them at¬
taches no meaning, can never have the smallest influence,
either upon the heart or the understanding ; and I think
it is equally evident, that no external form or ceremony,
the design and tendency of which are totally incompre¬
hensible, can in any degree accomplish the object for
which it was instituted. Let us apply these plain prin¬
ciples to the ordinary method of inculcating early senti¬
ments of reverence towards the Deity. The child is
compelled to kneel down at its mother’s knee, to assume
a grave countenance, to join its little hands in form of
devotion, to repeat words of which it no more compre¬
hends the meaning than if they were Hebrew, and to go
through an irksome ceremony, from day to day, with a
listless heart and an uninterested mind. Is it any won¬
der that, under such a system, the poor child should so
often cast its eyes from object to object, or that it should
become intolerably drowsy, or that it should manifest in¬
numerable symptoms of uneasiness, whilst it repeats a
task which it learned with no feeling but that of pain 1
Is not such a system, I would ask, eminently calculated
to defeat the very end which it desires to promote, and
to associate the service of God, in the mind of the child,
with feelings directly opposed to those of reverence and
devotion ?
VOL. iv.—NO. II.
3
26
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
00
Nor is it a less injurious plan, when children are
a little farther advanced, to attempt instructing them
in the general principles of Christianity, by requiring
them to commit, as an irksome task, volumes of hymns
and books of scripture — in which drudgery the memory
is, almost universally, the only faculty employed. If to
this we add the consideration, that these painful exer¬
cises are usually connected with the Lord’s day, we per¬
ceive the completion of a system, preeminently adapted
to render the bible anything but 4 a pleasure,’ and the
sabbath anything but ‘ a delight.’ Surely, it is as im¬
politic as it is unjust to make religion thus appear to the
youthful mind, as if it were unfriendly to happiness, and
to connect its principles and ordinances with unprofitable
labor and painful sacrifices. Such a mode of instruction
has a natural tendency to destroy the feelings of genuine
piety, to produce a constrained and hypocritical profession
for a season, and to terminate in eventual infidelity. I
have known several instances of such a melancholy pro¬
gress, in the children of sincerely pious, but excessively
rigid parents. This circumstance amply proves, how
delicate a task it is to regulate the human mind; to pre¬
serve the proper medium between a criminal neglect,
which would permit evil propensities to grow without
control, and an injudicious severity of discipline, that
would create a rebellious impatience of restraint, and an
insatiable craving for the cup of forbidden pleasure. I
am fully persuaded, that such a happy medium can only
be attained, by making religious education an affair of the
heart and the understanding, instead of a mere matter
of words, or formal profession, or abstract theory.
OV RELIGIOUS education.
27
1 would therefore teach the first lessons of piety to the
young, in the fair and glorious book of Nature. I would
lead them through the cultivated fields, and the pleasant
pastures, and the flowery meadows, and the leafy groves.
When the husbandman casts his seed into the bosom of
the earth, when the green blade springs forth, and when
the ripe ear yields abundance, I would show them the
providence of God, in the mode of supplying their daily
wants. When they listened with joy to the music of the
groves, when they looked with delight on the peaceful
cattle feeding upon the green pastures, when they re¬
marked the industry of the bee, or the sportive fluttering
of the butterfly, or the happiness of the myriads of beings
that were enjoying existence in the air, in the waters, or
upon the earth, I would lead them to consider the infinite
goodness of God, in the diffusion of such unbounded en¬
joyment. In the refreshing breeze, the reviving shower,
and the animating sun ; in the formation of every tree,
and plant, and flower, as well as of every animated being,
I would lead them to admire the transcendent wisdom of
their Creator. And when the dews of evening should
begin to fall, when they were returning to their peaceful
homes with invigorated bodies and joyous spirits, I would
point to the fair moon, rising in tranquil beauty, and to
one star after another, appearing in the glorious firma¬
ment of heaven ; and I would lead them to reverence the
power and majesty of Him, who had formed all the starry
worlds which they beheld, and who had, no doubt, also
peopled them with inhabitants! At the season of refresh¬
ment I would remind them, by the devout expression of
my own gratitude, and by recalling to their recollection
what they had themselves witnessed, to whom they were
23
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
62
indebted for all their comforts and blessings. When the
hour of repose drew near, I would kneel down in the
midst of my children, as every Christian parent is bound
to do ; I would praise my Creator for all his mercies,
supplicate a continuation of his bounties, and fervently
implore him to bless my little ones. And when they af¬
terwards addressed their ‘ Father in Heaven’ in personal
prayer, before retiring to rest, they would no longer offer
a heartless and a mindless service; they would know
whom they worshipped, and feel why they ought to be
grateful. Thus, might the hearts of the young become
truly interested in the cause of religion, and imbued with
the sacred odour of piety, which would ever retain its
freshness, although they should be broken by the shocks
of misfortune, or withered by the winter of age.
I know it may be said by many, that what I have been
advancing is all visionary and theoretical ; but I am not
afraid of its being so considered by the wise and the ex¬
perienced, who have carefully studied human nature, and
observed the progress of the human mind. Children
think much sooner, and much more accurately, than most
persons imagine. Indeed, fond and partial parents are
always sensible of this in their own offspring. They are
quite delighted with their shrewd remarks, and often as¬
tonished and puzzled by their curious questions ; but they
take it for granted that these are only indications of ex¬
traordinary talents in their own children, and that all
others are comparatively ignorant and uninteresting.
This, however, is a mere error of parental partiality; for
the mass of other children are fully equal to their own ;
and all are much more, and much earlier the objects of
religious and moral culture than is generally believed.
€3 OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. 29
Their ignorance of language is the principal barrier in
the way of their instruction. They are often unable to
find words to explain their own ideas, and we have usually
as much difficulty in selecting terms suited to give them
a proper conception of ours. Yet, it is wonderful, how
much knowledge, especially with regard to external ob¬
jects, they may acquire, under moderately judicious
treatment, where affection never loses patience in conse¬
quence of their unceasing interrogatories, and where a
sound discretion adapts the language of explanation to
the extent of their capacities. No more fatal mistake
could be made in the treatment of children, than repress¬
ing their curiosity by refusing to answer their questions.
An inquisitive disposition ought to be particularly en¬
couraged, as it opens the most favorable inlet for knowl¬
edge at a very early period of life. The information
which a child desires to obtain always affords it pleasure,
and usually makes a permanent impression upon its mind ;
whilst, on the contrary, knowledge which is pressed
upon it by others is generally received with indifference,
and soon passes away. Many questions put by children
may be trifling, many absurd, and many difficult to be
answered ; but the very reply of a judicious parent to a
frivolous interrogatory may be so framed, as to correct an
error of judgment, and the most difficult question should
receive an answer, if possible ; or, at the very least, a
satisfactory reason should be assigned for refusing a reply.
In everything connected with religious principles and
impressions, it is peculiarly important that this course
should be pursued. If a child inquire, (and what child
does not ?) who made the sun, and the moon, and the
stars — who formed the mountains, and the rivers, and
3 *
VOL. IV. - NO. II.
30
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
64
the beasts of the field — who created himself, and his
parents, and all other human beings — would it not be
the utmost fatuity, to omit so favorable an opportunity of
inculcating the first and most influential principle of all
religion — the existence, the power, and the providence
of God ? That this great principle may be inculcated,
and that an abiding conviction of the constant presence
of the Deity may be impressed upon the mind, at a very
early period of life, I do aver from experience ; and in
this sentiment, I am convinced I shall have the concur¬
rence of every judicious parent, and of every man who
has attentively considered the tendencies of human nature.
This habitual reverence of the Supreme Being will
be materially strengthened in the minds of the young,
by conducting them regularly to the public services of
religion, and thus associating all their previous senti¬
ments of piety with the hallowed solemnities of the
sanctuary, and the deliberate approbation of the wise
and good. Parents, who neglect the prirate and public
duties of the Lord's day, who spend it in drowsy in¬
difference, or degrade it into a season of worldly occu¬
pation or vain amusement, cannot expect that the love
and fear of God should be established in the hearts of
their children. These essential principles of piety, these
surest foundations of moral respectability, are never to be
found in the lukewarm and careless spirit; and what the
father possesses not in himself, he cannot communicate
to his son. For my own part, I have almost universally
observed, that the decay of vital religion, in individuals
and families, has exactly kept pace with their neglect of
religious institutions. This is peculiarly true with re¬
gard to the young, who have no counterpoise for their
65
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
31
thoughtlessness and folly, save what is to be found in the
habitual reverence of God. Christian parents, therefore
who omit to lead their children to the sanctuary, neglect
to furnish them with the most powerful defence against
all the trials and all the temptations of the world.
The reading of the holy scriptures is another most
effectual means of promoting a religious and moral edu¬
cation. They contain the charter of our salvation, the
grounds of our duty, the objects of our faith, and the an¬
chor of our hopes. They are a treasure of inestimable
value to all, but especially to the young, who most require
the instruction of divine wisdom. Without a knowledge
of the sacred records all education must be defective.
But, whilst ‘ all scripture, given by inspiration of God, is
profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, and for
instruction in righteousness,’ the moral law, the prophe¬
cies, and the devotional parts of the Old Testament, with
the whole of the Christian revelation, are peculiarly adapt¬
ed for the edification of the young. I do not say, that
every part of the divine word is not calculated to afford
salutary instruction to minds which are prepared to re¬
ceive it; but, in the ceremonial law and the historical
books of the Old Testament there are several things
which appear to me but little suited to the capacities and
feelings of youth. These I would leave for the consider¬
ation of riper years, and direct the mind principally to
the dispensation of 4 the glorious gospel of the grace of
God.’ Nor would I impose even this as an irksome task
and fatiguing drudgery. I would not insist upon chil¬
dren’s committing large portions of the New Testament
to memory, lest I should create disgust and aversion,
where I only desire to promote admiration and respect.
32
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
66
The injudicious system of enforcing a literal repetition of
scripture, as a regular school-task, and sometimes as a
penalty for idleness or misconduct, is pre-eminently cal¬
culated to destroy the very rudiments of piety in the
human heart. This mischievous error has arisen from
a misconception of the true nature of religion : from
making it a concern merely of words and ideas, whereas
in reality it is especially an affair of the affections; for
‘ it is the heart which God requires.’ I would not thus at¬
tempt to instruct the young in a knowledge of the sacred
volume; but, when they had previously considered and
read a certain portion, I would question them with regard
to its contents, and thus move onward in regular succes¬
sion, with frequent reference to previous information, until
the substance of the gospel should be engraven on their
minds, and the spirit of the gospel infused into their
hearts. Knowledge and feelings thus acquired would
not vanish, like mere impressions of the memory, but
would permanently remain as the guides and consolations
of life, associated in the mind with pleasurable recollec¬
tions. Besides, young persons educated on such a system
would generally be steady in their religious principles.
Having once drunk ‘the waters of life’ from the pure
fountain of the divine word, they could scarcely turn to
the polluted streams of human invention in after years.
As ‘ the chief corner stone ’ of a religious education,
the minds of the young should be very frequently direct¬
ed towards our blessed Saviour. They may not be able
to appreciate all his labors of love, to understand all his
divine instructions, to comprehend all the gracious pur¬
poses of his death, and resurrection, and mediation; but
I know that, at a very early age, they may become truly
67
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
03
interested in his character and sufferings. I have seen
the cheeks of an intelligent child suffused with tears,
whilst reading the indignities of the judgment-hall, and
the awful sufferings of Calvary. And, when the heart
is thus impressed, every word from the lips of the gracious
Being, who has become such an object of affectionate in¬
terest, is received with reverence and respect.
In the important work of early religious instruction
parents must necessarily be the principal agents; but
their labors acquire an additional efficacy, when they are
aided by the ministers of the gospel. In the estimation
of the young, there is always a sacredness attached to
the ministerial character, which gives weight and energy
to instruction * and I am fully persuaded that the faith¬
ful servant of Christ does not occupy so high a station of
usefulness, even whilst he is^ delivering the holiest truths
from the pulpit, as when he is engaged in the humble
task of impressing lessons of wisdom and virtue upon the
youthful mind. By such unostentatious labors he con¬
ciliates affection, prepares the soil for the good seed
which he is afterwards to sow T , and, independently of all
higher considerations, secures an abundant harvest of
respect and honor for his coming years. He may devote
his mind to study, he may acquire the reputation of learn¬
ing, or piety, or eloquence, and he may become an emi¬
nent preacher of righteousness; but, at the close of his
mortal career, he will assuredly look back upon the
peaceful hours, which he dedicated to the familiar instruc¬
tion of the young, as by far the most profitable of his
whole existence. A minister of the gospel who neglects
this sacred duty, though he possessed the eloquence and
the knowledge of a Paul, is still ‘but as sounding brass.,
34 IMPORTANCE AND METHOD 68
or a tinkling cymbal.’ He leaves the parents without en¬
couragement or assistance, the children without know¬
ledge, or motives to acquire it; and even his religious
opinions, of which he boasts as having the peculiar sanc¬
tion of truth, depend entirely for their extension upon
the operations of chance, or the formal harangues of the
pulpit. The work of the Lord cannot prosper in such
hands; the canker-worm of indifference must gradually
consume the very vitals of religion ; and those, who com¬
mence the career of life without religious principles, will
almost invariably continue it without moral practice.
The ministers of the gospel, therefore, are peculiarly
bound, by the most sacred and awful responsibility, to
watch over the education of the rising generation ; to aid
and encourage parents in the diligent discharge of their
arduous duties ; and to diffuse around them the invalua¬
ble blessings of an early piety.
Religious sentiments, however, ought never to be in¬
culcated as mere abstract principles. They should be
constantly associated in the mind with moral feelings,
and the active discharge of moral duties. Wanting this
connexion, they are as a tree without fruit. The guar¬
dians of the young, therefore, should constantly labor to
associate the filial fear of God with a reverence for his
commandments, and the love of the Saviour with good¬
will towards mankind. The important relative duties of
integrity and truth, of generosity and kindness, of for¬
giveness and charity, ought to be enforced as the very
end and essence of true religion. Above all things,
the prevalent and degrading vice of falsehood should be
carefully repressed, as offensive to God, destructive to
the peace of society, and disgraceful to themselves. No
69
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
35
exertion, no vigilance, on the part of parents, can be too
great to secure an inward love and habitual observance
of truth. Where this great virtue is wanting, all other
honorable principles must be deficient ; and wherever it
is to be found, w r e may confidently look for its natural
attendants, integrity and benevolence. Kind and con¬
siderate treatment is always the most likely to secure
the interests of truth; for I am persuaded that all false¬
hood has its origin in fear — the fear of punishment, or
disapprobation. I would, therefore, pardon almost any
folly or offence, not involving gross impiety or moral tur¬
pitude, in order to secure a habit of candor and veracity.
Next to the social virtues, those of a more immediately
personal character may be very early inculcated ; and
upon these a large portion of human happiness neces¬
sarily depends. No period of life, above mere infancy,
is too early for teaching self-denial and patience of con¬
trol. Thousands of the hot and ungovernable spirits,
that have brought sorrow upon themselves, and inflicted
miseries upon others, owe their misfortunes and their
crimes to uncorrected passions, and unsubdued peevish¬
ness of temper, in the very earliest stages of existence.
The same wisdom of experience, which prevents a child
from thrusting its hand a second time into a flame,
would, under proper management, prevent it from in¬
dulging in violent bursts of passion. And I am per¬
suaded, (for I have witnessed the fact,) that children
might be almost as easily taught to refrain from tasting
forbidden sweets by a salutary fear of incurring displea¬
sure, as to avoid the repetition of actions accompanied
by personal suffering.
36
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
70
But it may be inquired — if it be so easy a task to teach
those early lessons of piety, morality, and self-restraint,
why are not young persons universally trained up in such
salutary habits? I answer — because some parents are
criminally negligent, others injudiciously rigorous, many
culpably indulgent, and almost all mistaken with regard
to what ought to be the grand objects of human pur¬
suits.
It is much to be lamented, that many persons, in all
ranks of society, are criminally indifferent with respect
to the principles and education of their children. This,
however, is especially the case at the two extremes of the
social scale. The lowest classes, fatigued with daily
toil, harassed with returning wants, destitute of all the
nobler aspirings of nature, and too frequently ignorant of
the inestimable advantages of religious and moral culture,
are contented if they can supply their children with the
coarsest fare and scanty raiment. They have never
themselves risen above the station in which they were
born ; they anticipate no higher destiny for their chil¬
dren ; and they do not imagine that any very extensive
endowments, either intellectual or moral, are necessary
to the success of mere manual industry. Such persons
are much more the objects of compassion than of censure ,
but the same palliation cannot be offered for the conduct
of those in the other extreme of society, who are too often
equally neglectful. Occupied with the enjoyments or
the vanities of life, they too frequently commit the entire
care of their offspring to mercenary hands; they are con¬
tent with occasional reports of their progress, and rest
satisfied that all must be well, when they are passing
through the ordinary routine of fashionable education.
71
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
37
The minds of their children may remain a comparative
blank, whilst their hearts are over-run with the rank
weeds of irreligion and vice ; and thus, those who are
to influence the destinies of thousands are, not unfre-
quently, amongst the worst educated men in the commu¬
nity. Honorable exceptions to this statement, I am well
aware, may easily be found, where persons of the high¬
est rank are remarkably distinguished for their parental
fidelity; but these exceptions are not of ordinary occur¬
rence, and cannot invalidate the general rule.
Excessive rigor and injudicious severity on the part
of parents are less common, but not less certain sources
of irreligious feeling and immoral practice. Whilst some
persons are so weakly affectionate as to perceive no fail¬
ings in their children, others are so unnaturally harsh
as to see nothing but imperfections. Influenced by an
overweening vanity, they desire to see their children
superior to all others, and are therefore subjected to in¬
cessant chagrin. Disappointed in their talents, discon¬
tented with their progress, and irritated because they
want the polish of the world and the steadiness of age,
they cast the blame of their own absurd mortification
upon their unoffending offspring. With a wild impa¬
tience and tyranny, they demand exertions beyond their
strength, expect a gravity beyond their years, refuse the
most salutary indulgences, and, if they happen to be what
is termed religious, exact a formality of devotion equally
unnatural and absurd. The inevitable result of such a
system is, that their children view them with terror in¬
stead of affection, hate those studies which are the per¬
petual sources of sorrow, endeavor to deceive those
whom they cannot propitiate, and turn hypocrites in re-
4
VOL. IV.
NO. II.
38
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
72
ligion to avoid the penalty of sincerity. The perverted
ingenuity of man could devise no plan of education more
destructive of all piety and morality. The moment that
a young person so educated is set free from the fetters
with which he has been bound, and escapes from the
unnatural tyranny by which he has been enslaved, he is
prepared to give the reins to every passion, and to cast all
religious and mor restraint to the winds.
It must be admitted, however, that culpable indulgence
is a much more prevalent source of erroneous education,
than that which I have just described. The natural, the
laudable desire of the parental heart is, to confer happi¬
ness. Youth requires indulgence, and it would be equal¬
ly barbarous and unwise to refuse it. Judicious kind¬
ness is the best instrument of human instruction ; it calls
forth all the native tendencies of the heart; nothing is
hidden from the eye of affection. The entire character
lies open to inspection ; so that every virtuous tendency
may be encouraged, and every vicious propensity re¬
strained. To parental indulgence, therefore, I would
prescribe no limits but those which would render it truly
conducive to the happiness of its object. Now let it be
considered, that in making a due estimate of happiness
we must view the whole course of human life. We
should never call that conducive to a man’s happiness,
which afforded him the enjoyment of a day at the heavy
cost of miserable years. Upon this principle, the gratifi¬
cation of every appetite and desire on the part of the
young, is but a wretched preparation for the vicissitudes
of the world. In the busy haunts of men, every hand
will not bring supplies like that of a gentle mother, nor
every voice speak kindness like that of an indulgent
73
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
39
father. The unfortunate being, whose will has never
been controlled, whose passions have never been re¬
strained, is but ill suited for the conflicts of this self¬
ish and bustling scene. I shall go farther, however,
and say, that even in youth such an individual is never
happy. I have always looked upon the poor child as an
object of compassion, whose craving desires were most
freely gratified. The wealth of the Indies, and all the
ingenuity of man, could not supply its increasing de¬
mands. After exhausting all possible sources of gratifi¬
cation, its imagination would become its tormentor ; and
the object of ten thousand indulgences would be only a
peevish and miserable creature. On the other hand, the
child, whose unreasonable desires have been restrained,
whose temper and passions have been subdued, to whom
indulgence has been sometimes extended and sometimes
refused, is uniformly cheerful and contented ; a gratifica¬
tion withheld inflicts no pain, a favor conferred communi¬
cates real pleasure. It is evident, therefore, that a mind
which has been weakened, and a heart which has been
perverted by excessive indulgence, never can become the
seat of manly thought, or generous sentiment.
To all other causes which impede the progress of a
salutary education, may be added the mistaken estimate,
too generally formed, of what ought to be the grand ob¬
jects of human pursuit. I do not say, that upon this sub¬
ject men make any serious mistake in theory, or in
words, or in profession ; all admit, that piety and virtue
should be the primary objects of human desire. But
what say their actions 1 Is it to the attainment of these
that they principally direct the education of their chil¬
dren ? On the contrary, have not all their exertions an
40
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
74
undivided view to the interests and enjoyments of the
world ? What efforts are constantly made, with respect
to mere temporal instruction, to manners, to accomplish¬
ments, and to placing them on the road of fortune and
reputation! These, I admit, are all desirable, but they
should not be the chief objects sought for in education.
We are expressly commanded by our blessed Lord, ‘ to
seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,’ un¬
der the sacred assurance, that if we do so, 1 all other
necessary good things will be added unto us.’ I shall,
therefore, bring this discourse to a conclusion, by ad¬
dressing a plain and brief exhortation to parents upon
the important subject of their relative duties.
Christian parents, I address myself to you, most
earnestly beseeching you to remember the awful re¬
sponsibility of the parental character. The interests of
time and of eternity hang upon your conduct. The
children whom God has given you are the most sacred
and valuable trust, which he could have committed to
your care. With their lot your own is likewise cast.
Should they, through your virtuous exertions, as the
humble instruments of the grace of God, c be raised to
glory, and honor, and eternal life,’ you also ( shall
have your crown of rejoicing but if, through your ne¬
glect or criminality, they should go down to sorrow,
‘ then will their blood be required at your hands ! ’ O,
my fellow Christians, what an awful consideration is
this ! You would stand at the bed of their earthly suf¬
fering with afflicted hearts, and mourn even under the
dispensation of Providence ;—with what feelings, then,
would you contemplate the misery of their immortal
souls, and look upon yourselves as the guilty cause of
75
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
41
all their sorrows ! 1 beseech you, brethren, by all the
promises and all the threatenings of the divine word,
to address yourselves diligently to the transcendently
important duties of your station. In so sacred a cause
indifference is crime. Let not their minds and their
hearts remain without instruction ; but whilst you in¬
culcate the sublime principles of the gospel, let religion
appear to them in all her native loveliness, as a gra¬
cious angel of purity and peace. Let no harshness of
language, no austerity of manner, no unnatural exac¬
tions on your part, lead them to look upon piety as un¬
friendly to their happiness. Show them rather, that
religion checks no decent joy, forbids no innocent plea¬
sure. Make it your rational and delightful task,
‘ To try each art, reprove each fond delay,
Allure to brighter worlds, and lead the way.’
But, whilst you manifest your Christian spirit and
temper by all becoming acts of reasonable kindness,,
never forget that religion gives no sanction to those
criminal indulgences, which corrupt the heart and de¬
grade the character. It is natural, it is laudable, it is
useful to be indulgent ; it is even right, perhaps, not to
appear to observe trifling faults and follies, involving no
depravity of principle, and leading to no injurious re¬
sults; but, wherever the gratification of an appetite or
a desire might lead, even in its remote consequences,,
to destructive habits or immoral actions, the firmest
resistance should be maintained. It is chiefly from
mothers, that undue indulgence is to be apprehended.
Beneficently gifted by the Deity with a stronger portion
of natural affection, to sustain them in the discharge of
VOL. IV. — no. ii. 4 *
42 IMPORTANCE AND METHOD 76
the irksome and important duties which devolve upon
them, they can scarcely be blamed for an excess of
tenderness ; although it is our bounden duty to warn
them of its consequences. I would ask, then, any
Christian mother, why she often withholds correction,
which she believes to be necessary, and indulges with
gratifications, which she knows to be injurious ? Her
probable answer would be — that she cannot bear the
idea of inflicting pain upon a creature that is so dear
to her heart ! But, were her child laboring under a
dangerous disease, would she not administer the most
nauseous medicine, or subject it to the most painful op¬
eration, in order to restore it to health and soundness?
Or, suppose that it clamored for some sweet, that was
mingled with a deadly poison, would she gratify its
palate at the expense of its life? No; in such cases,
she would not only judge correctly, but also act rightly.
And is the case less urgent or less important, because
her child only labors under a moral distemper, or be¬
cause he only desires to enjoy a momentary gratification,
which will poison his mind and corrupt his heart? Sure¬
ly, every argument, which would influence her in the
instance of bodily suffering, or the refusal of the poison¬
ed dainty, ought to have a thousand fold the force in
the case of moral disease, or moral contagion. Just in
proportion to the difference between body and soul,
time and eternity, should be her serious estimate of her
maternal duty. Never ought she to shrink, in destruc¬
tive weakness, from a prompt obedience to the command
of scripture: c Withhold not correction from thy child;
if thou beatest him with a rod he will not die, and thou
mayest thereby deliver his soul from destruction.’ The
77
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
43
pain of a moment may save him from years of suffer¬
ing; and the unwarrantable indulgence of an hour may
be followed by ages of remorse!
The malignity of a demon could devise no system
more destructive to virtue and happiness, than one often
generated in the fond heart of a mother ; I refer to the
deeply culpable practice of concealing the offences of
children from the knowledge of their fathers, and the
still more criminal custom of supplying them in secret
with the means of frivolous or sensual gratification.
Were a mother to place a dagger in the hands of her
son, to be turned against his own breast, she would be
arming him with a much less dangerous weapon, than a
supply of money for purposes of riot and debauchery.
By such disastrous means, millions of young persons
have been overwhelmed with destruction. And yet,
unfortunate mothers, who practise these things, often
complain of the ingratitude of their children, and won¬
der that they do not love them more, and respect them
more! Now, the only wonder to me is, that such
mothers should expect any return of gratitude or affec¬
tion. After having corrupted their children from in¬
fancy by ruinous indulgence; after having taught
them hypocrisy and fraud by their own example; after
having put the poisoned cup of sensuality and crime
into their very hands — it would be amazing, if they en¬
tertained towards them any other sentiments than those
of contempt and aversion. The very indulgences, upon
which they rest as a ground of affection, have destroyed
all the native and amiable sensibilities of the heart. I
do not recollect having seen, in the whole course of my
life, a weakly and indiscriminately indulgent mother, sin-
44
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
78
cerely respected and beloved by her children; but I
have known many, who have been repaid for their inju¬
dicious kindness by heart-rending neglect or insult.
The firm and prudent mother alone, who has the good
sense to unite general kindness with occasional and sal¬
utary restraint, becomes an object of permanent re¬
spect and affection. Her tenderness is justly appreci¬
ated, because it is considered as a proof of approbation,
and not as a mere thoughtless instinctive impulse; and
even her very denial of hurtful gratification is accompa¬
nied by a manner and an explanation eminently calcu¬
lated to enforce conviction and secure esteem. Such a
mother walks amidst her children as an object of affec¬
tionate reverence, an equitable distributor of rewards
and punishments; from whose justice, propriety of con¬
duct is always secure of a recompense, and from whose
weakness, criminality cannot speculate upon impunity.
If there be anything, which, above all other con¬
siderations, I would press upon parents with peculiar
earnestness, it is this—that, in the management of chil¬
dren, there should be no apparent diversity of opinion or
system between father and mother. Wherever such
difference exists, it is uniformly destructive; the judg¬
ment of each parent being alternately undervalued, and
the authority of both too often eventually undermined.
It usually happens, indeed, in such cases, that a
wretched system of deceit and tyranny springs into
existence. The mother frequently encourages or con¬
nives at actions, of which the father disapproves; con¬
cealment or apology is therefore her object, whilst
detection and punishment are his. Such a course once
begun, action and re-action mutually increase the evil.
79
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
45
The more the father is deceived, he becomes the more
severe; and in proportion as his severity increases,
the mother redoubles, in concert with the child, her
efforts of deception. Thus, both parents sin against
nature; the one in fostering folly and hypocrisy, the
other in becoming a tyrant. The child, too, is even¬
tually taught to sin against nature — to despise one
parent, and to hate another. And, what is equally
deplorable, the mutual affection and confidence of the
parents themselves are impaired; and that very being,
who ought to be the most sacred bond of union, often
becomes a source of division and alienation. Whatever
diversity of opinion, therefore, may happen to exist
between fathers and mothers, it should be entirely set¬
tled or compromised in private, that the slightest
symptom of it may not appear before their children.
A divided authority is always weak; and there can be
no case in which it is more destructive, for c a house
to be divided against itself,’ than in the education of
the young. Parental wisdom should never be doubted,
parental impartiality should never be suspected, parental
authority should never be the subject of dispute. If a
mother be too indulgent, let there be a private admoni¬
tion; if a father be too severe, there ought to be a
secret remonstrance. Even where a restraint may have
been tyrannical, or a punishment inflicted beyond due
bounds, there should never be a sudden and repentant
relaxation. Such alternate rigor and relenting are
exceedingly common, and exceedingly mischievous.
The boy hates a power that is exercised without rea¬
son, speculates upon undue indulgence as a recompense
for unmerited suffering, and looks upon himself rather
46
IMPORTANCE AND METHOD
80
as the victim of his father’s improper passion, than as
the object of a just and necessary correction. To pre¬
vent such consequences, it is the part of true wisdom to
follow the gentler suggestions of nature; and to keep
always rather within than beyond the bounds of rigor¬
ous justice.
You are no doubt anxious, my Christian friends, to
establish your children in circumstances of worldly com¬
petence and respectability. This is a natural, a lau¬
dable, a religious desire. An honest independence is one
of the greatest blessings of existence. It enables a
man to walk amidst his fellows, of whatever rank, with
a firm step, a manly aspect, and a tranquil heart. It
affords him the means of moderate, rational, and decent
enjoyment, both in his individual and social capacity;
and, what is still more, it enables him to c taste the
luxury of doing good. 5 But, let it ever be remembered,
that even this valuable independence should never be
purchased by sacrifices or exertions, which would raise
a blush upon the cheek, or excite a pang in the heart.
If you can exalt your children to affluence and station
by honorable means, whilst you impress those sound
principles of religion and morality, which will enable
them to enjoy and to improve the blessings of their lot,
you become not merely the benefactors of your families,
but also of your kind. If, however, it be your sole
object to confer affluence upon them for its own sake,
without any attention to the dispositions and virtues
which would render it a source of personal and public
advantage, you would more consult their substantial
interest and happiness by placing them in the humblest
81
OF RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
47
condition of honest industry. I solemnly declare that
I would rather bequeath to my child the honorable
inheritance of good principles and a good name, than
c millions of silver and gold 5 with an ungoverned spirit,
or a corrupted heart. We all know the uncertainty of
reputation, and fortune, and power. We farther know
that were they even permanent in their own nature,
they have not the capacity of conferring virtue or
happiness. On the contrary, they have a natural ten¬
dency to render the heart presumptuous, to inflame the
passions, and to foster crime. Neither can they ward
off the stroke of disease, nor the shafts of calamity.
In the gloomy hour of dissolution, c when the heart
sinks, and the spirits fail, and there is no pleasure in
life, 5 they cannot afford one gleam of hope, or one mo¬
ment of consolation. Under such circumstances, how
different is the lot of him, who has been educated with
sound principles of piety and morality! With regard
to all his true interests, he is entirely independent of
the chances and changes of the world; and even in the
last solemn hour, the light of a good conscience and the
staff of Christian hope cheer and sustain his spirit, as
he journeys c through the valley of the shadow of death, 5
to a better country and a Father’s home.
In conclusion, Christian parents, if you desire that
your children should be duly guided by your instructions,
show them in all things the sincerity and value of
your precepts, by their happy influence upon your own
i lives and conversation. 5 Example is the most agree¬
able and the most powerful instructer. As they learn
your language, copy your manners, and acquire your
?8 I3IP0RTANCE vtND METHOD, &C. 82
habits of thinking upon ordinary subjects, so will they
become imbued with your Christian temper and princi*
pies. But, remember, if you L walk not worthy of the
high vocation wherewith you are called,’ your example
must be destructive, and you can no longer be objects
of affection or respect. Do not force your children to
err against nature. No child can love a tyrant, a sen¬
sualist, a despiser of religion, a neglecter of parental
duties. Walk in the midst of your families, in the con¬
stant exercise of kindness tempered with firmness, of
piety without austerity, of holiness adorned by cheer¬
fulness, and you cannot fail, in the virtues and happiness
of your children, to reap an abundant harvest of joy
and peace.