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 Of' TUE 
 AT 
 
 PRINCETON, N. J. 
 SAMUEL AGNE^V, 
 
 OF PHILADELPHIA, PA. 
 
 q4^o - . 
 
 ■<^' 
 
 BV 4501 .W35 1831 
 Ware, Henry, 1794-1843. 
 On the formation of the 
 Christian character 
 
 
FOR M Alio N 
 
 OP THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 
 
 Price 2s. Gd. Boards. 
 
ON TIIS 
 
 FORMATION 
 
 OF THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN CHARACTER, 
 
 ADDRESSED 
 
 TO THOSE WHO ARE SEEKING TO LEAD 
 A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 
 
 T^ 
 
 By HENRY WARE, Jr. 
 
 Professor of Pulpit Eloquence and the Pastoral Care 
 in Harvard University. 
 
 Printed from the American Edition, 
 
 LIVERPOOL: 
 
 Printed and Sold by F. B. Wright. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Sold by R. Hunter, St. Paul's Church Yard ; S. Teulon, 
 
 67, Whitechapel ; Pox, 67, Paternoster Row ; 
 
 J. Mardon, 30, Jewin Crescent, Aldersgate 
 
 street ; T. Forrest, iNIanchester, and the 
 
 Booksellers in general. 
 
 1831. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 In presenting to the religious public this little 
 book, the writer has only to say, that he under- 
 took it because he thought that a work of this cha- 
 racter was needed and would be welcome. During 
 his active ministry he had often felt the want of 
 a book on personal religion, different, in some re- 
 spects, from any which had fallen in his way ; and 
 when compelled by ill health to relinquish his 
 pastoral cares, he attempted to beguile some of 
 the languid hours of a weary convalescence by ef- 
 forts at composing such an one. The result has 
 come very far short of the idea which he had 
 formed in his mind. The book was written at 
 distant and uncertain intervals, upon journeys 
 and in public houses, and has been now revised 
 for the press in the midst of other cares, which 
 iiave allowed no time for giving it the complete- 
 
VI. 
 
 ness he desired. Yet, as it belongs to a class of 
 writings, of whose importance he has the highest 
 sense, and the multiplication of which, as well as 
 the increase of a taste for their perusal, he es- 
 teems in the highest measure desirable ; — he ven- 
 tures to hope that this slight effort will not be 
 wholly lost ; and that it may at least do some- 
 thing towards exciting others to a preparation of 
 more efficient works, which shall nourish the spirit 
 of devotion, and extend the power of practical 
 faith. 
 
 Cambridge, May 16, 1831. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 1 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Nature of Religion, and -what we are to seek — ^Reli- 
 gion described — exemplified in the chantcter of Christ 
 — an arduous attainment — caution against low views.. 4 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Our power to obtain that which we seek. — The capacity 
 for religion in human nature — education — the natural 
 and the spiritual life — man's ability to do the will of 
 God — false humility — salvation by grace 14 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The State of Blind in which the Inquirer should sustain 
 himself. — Sense of unworthiness — anxiety of mind — 
 rules to be observed respecting retirement, conversation, 
 public meetings :i^(3 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 The INIeans of Religious Improvement , . . . . 37 
 
 I. Reading. — Duty of seeking religious knowledge — its 
 advantages — time to be given to it — the Bible — to be 
 read for instruction in truth — for self- application — se- 
 lection of other books 3/ 
 
 II. Bleditation. — Its object — habitual thoughtfulness — 
 seasons of meditation — enjoyment to be expected in 
 them — caution — three purposes to be answered .55 
 
 III. Prayer. — Its necessity and value — importance of set 
 times — method to be observed — subjects — posture — lan- 
 guage — frequency and brevity — ejaculatory prayer — 
 faith, fervor, perseverance — answers to prayer — topics 
 
 — in the name of Christ — caution — spirit of devotion . . 67 
 
Vlll 
 
 IV. Preaching. — A divine institution — necessity of pre- 
 paration for hearing — a critical disposition — reflection 
 on what has heen heard — on keeping a record of ser- 
 mons — ^weakness of memory — a taste for preaching to he 
 preserved 96 
 
 V. The Lord's Supper. — Its ohject twofold, profession of 
 faith, and means of improvement — who to partake, and 
 when — an affecting and comprehensive rite — an oppor- 
 tunity for silent worship — conclusion 110 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Religious Discipline of Life. — The means of religion 
 not to he mistaken for the end — watchfulness — daily du- 
 ties and trials — discipline of the thoughts, dispositions, 
 passions, appetites — conversation — ordinary deportment 
 — guard to be kept over the principles — and over the 
 habits 120 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I AM anxious to bespeak the reader's right at- 
 tention before he enters on the following pages. 
 They have been written only for those who are 
 sincerely desirous of knowing themselves, and are 
 bent upon forming a religious character. They 
 can be of little interest or value to any other per- 
 son, or if read with any other view than that of 
 self-improvement. I venture therefore to entreat 
 everyone, into whose hands the book may fall, to 
 peruse it, as it has been written, not for enter- 
 tainment, but for moral edification ; to read it at 
 those seasons when he is seriously disposed, and 
 can reflect upon the important topics presented to 
 his view. I am solicitous to aid him in the forma- 
 tion of his Christian character, and about every 
 other result I am indifferent. 
 
 I would even presume, further, to warn one 
 class of readers, and that not a small one, against 
 a danger which lurks even in their established 
 respect for religion. That general regard for it, 
 which grows out of the circumstances of educa- 
 
 B 
 
tion and the habits of society, may be mistaken 
 for a religious state of mind ; yet it is perfectly 
 consistent with religious indifference. A man 
 may sincerely honor, advocate, and uphold the re- 
 ligion of Christ on account of its general influence, 
 its beneficial public tendency, its humane and 
 civilizing consequences, without at all subjecting 
 his owM temper and life to its laws, or being in 
 any proper sense a subject of the peculiar happi- 
 ness it imparts. This is perhaps not an infre- 
 quent case. Men need to be made sensible that 
 religion is a personal thing, a matter of personal 
 application and experience. Unless it is so con- 
 sidered, it will scarcely be an object of earnest 
 pursuit, or of fervent, hearty interest, nor can it 
 exert its true and thorough influence on the char- 
 acter. Indeed, its desirable influence upon the 
 state of society can be gained only through this 
 deep personal devotion to it of individuals ; be- 
 cause none but this is genuine religion, and the 
 genuine only can exhibit the genuine power. 
 
 I know of nothing to be more earnestly desired, 
 than that men should cease to look upon religion 
 as designed for others, and should come to regard 
 it as primarily affecting themselves ; that they 
 should first and most seriously study its relation 
 to their own hearts, and be above all things anxi- 
 ous about their own characters. His is but a par- 
 tial and unsatisfactory faith, which is concerned 
 
wholly with the state of society in general, and 
 allows him to neglect the discipline of his own 
 afifections and the culture of his own spiritual na- 
 ture. He is but poorly fitted to honor or promote 
 the cause of Christ, who has not first subjected 
 his own soul' to his holy government. There 
 are men enow, when Christianity is prevalent 
 and honorable, to lend it their countenance, and 
 pay it external homage. We want more thorough, 
 consistent exemplifications.- of its purity, benevo- 
 lence, and spirituality. These can be found only 
 in men; who love it for its own sake, and because 
 it is the wisdom of God and the power of God 
 unto salvation, and not simply because it is re- 
 spectable in the eyes of the world, and favorable 
 to the decency and order of the commonwealth. 
 It is for those who are seeking this end, and for 
 such only that I write. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE NATURE OF RELIGION, AND WHAT WE ARE 
 TO SEEK. 
 
 In order to the intelligent and successful pur- 
 suit of any object, it is necessary, first of all, to 
 hare a definite conception of what we desire to 
 effect or obtain. This is especially important in 
 the study of Religion, both because of the extent 
 and variety of the subject itself, and because of 
 the very different apprehensions of men respect- 
 ing it. Many are disheartened and fail, in con- 
 sequence of setting out with wrong views and false 
 expectations. From which cause religion itself 
 suffers ; being made answerable for failures, which 
 are entirely owing to the unreasonable anticipa- 
 tions and ill-directed efforts of those who enlisted 
 in her service, but did not persevere in it. 
 
 Let us begin, then, with considering what is 
 the object at which we aim when we seek a reli- 
 gious character. 
 
 Religion, in a general sense, is founded on man's 
 relation and accountableness to his Maker ; and 
 it consists in cherishing the sentiments and per- 
 forming the duties which thence result, and which 
 belong to the other relations to other beings which 
 God has appointed him to sustain. 
 
 Concerning these relations, sentiments, and du- 
 ties we are instructed in the Scriptures, especially 
 
in the New Testament. Religion, with us, is 
 the Christian religion. It is found in the teach- 
 ings and example of Jesus Christ. It consists 
 in the worship, the sentiments, and the character, 
 which he enjoined, and which he illustrated in 
 his own person. 
 
 What you are to seek, therefore, is, under the 
 guidance of Jesus Christ, to feel your relation to 
 God, and to live under a sense of responsibility 
 to him ; to cultivate assiduously those sentiments 
 and affections which spring out of this responsible 
 and filial relation, as well as those which arise 
 out of your connexion with other men as his off- 
 spring ; to perform all the duties to Him and them 
 which appertain to this character and relation ; 
 and to cherish that heavenward tendency of mind 
 which should spring from a consciousness of pos- 
 sessing an immortal nature. He who does all 
 this is a religious man ; or, in other words, a 
 Christian. 
 
 You desire to be a christian. To this are 
 requisite three things : belief in the truths which 
 the gospel reveals ; possession of the state of 
 mind which it enjoins : and performance of the 
 duties which it requires. Or, I may say, the sub- 
 jection of the mind by faith, the subjection of the 
 heart by love, the subjection of the will by obedi^ 
 ence. This universal submission of yourself to 
 God is what you are to aim at, This is Religion* 
 B 2 
 
 '*uPs«<WM«i^H4 
 
Observe how extensive a thing it is.. It is a 
 principle of the mind ; founded upon thought, 
 reflection, inquiry, argument ; and leading to de- 
 votion and duty as most reasonable and suitable 
 for intelligent beings. 
 
 It is a sentiment or affection of the heart ; not 
 the cold action of the intellectual man alone, in 
 behalf of what is right, but a warm, glowing feel- 
 ing of preference and desire ; a feeling, which 
 attaches itself in love to the Father of all and to 
 all good beings ; which turns duty into inclina- 
 tion, and pursues virtue from impulse ; which 
 prefers and delights in that which is well pleasing 
 to God, and takes an affectionate interest in the 
 things to which the Saviour devoted himself. 
 
 It is a rule of the life ; it is the law of God ; 
 causing the external conduct to correspond to the 
 principle which is established, and the sentiment 
 which breathes within ; bringing every action 
 into a conformity with the divine will, and 
 making universal holiness the standard of the 
 character. 
 
 The Scriptures represent religion under each 
 of these different views. As a principle, it is 
 called Faith ; and in this view is Faith extolled 
 as the essential thing for life and salvation. We 
 are to ' walk by faith. ' We are ' saved by faith.' — 
 As a sentiment, it is styled Love. Love to God 
 and man is declared by the Saviour to be the sub- 
 
stance of religion; and tlie Apostles, especially 
 John and Paul, every where represent this uni_ 
 versal aflection as the essence and the beauty of 
 the Christian character. No one can read their 
 language, and compaix with it the life of Christ, 
 without perceiving how essentially true religion 
 is a sentiment. — As a law or rule, it is spoken of 
 throughout the Scriptures. It is a commandment 
 of God, requiring obedience. We are ' to do his 
 will. * Christ is the * author of salvation to those 
 that obey him. ' * If thou wilt enter into life, 
 keep the commandments. ' • He who keepeth my 
 commandments, he it is that loveth me.' 
 
 In the general complexion of Scripture, and in 
 many particular passages, these several views are 
 united and blended together: thus we are told, 
 that * the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, 
 longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meek- 
 ness, temperance'; that the blessing of God be- 
 longs to the humble, penitent, meek, pure in 
 heart, merciful, and peaceful ; that the Christian 
 character consists in * whatsoever is true, honest, 
 just, pure, lovely, and of good report ' ; in adding 
 to * faith, virtue, knowledge, temperance, pati- 
 ence, godliness, brotherly kindness, and charity '; 
 and ' in denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, 
 and living soberly, righteously, and godly. 
 
 > * 
 
 * Gal. V. 22, 23.— Matthew, v. 3, 9,— Pbilip. iv. 8.— 
 2 Peter, i, 6, 7.— Titus, ii. 12. 
 
8 
 
 You see then what is the character of the re- . 
 iigion which you are seeking. You perceive that 
 it implies the absolute supremacy of the soul aniP 
 its interests, overall the objects and interests of 
 the present state ; and that its primary character- 
 istic is a certain state of mind and affections. It 
 is not the external conduct, not the observance of 
 the moral law alone, which constitutes a religious 
 man ; but the principles from which he acts, the 
 motives by which he is governed, the state of his 
 heart. A principle of spiritual life pervades his 
 intellectual nature, gives a complexion to his 
 whole temper, and is the spring of that moral 
 worth, which is in other men the result of educa- 
 tion, circumstances, or interest. He is actuated 
 by a prevailing sense of God, and the desire of a 
 growing resemblance to his moral image. He is 
 possessed with the perpetual consciousness of his 
 immortality; and is not ashamed to deny himself 
 any of the gratifications of the present hour, when 
 thereby he may keep his mind more disengaged 
 for the study of truth and the contemplation of his 
 highest good. Living thus with his chief sources 
 of happiness within him, he bears with equanimi- 
 ty the changes and trials of earth, and tastes 
 something of the peculiar felicity of heaven, 
 which is righteousness, and peace, and joy in a 
 holy spirit ; and, like his master, who sojourned 
 below, but whose affections were above, he does 
 
his Father's will as he passes through the world, 
 but has treasured up his supreme good in his Fa- 
 ther's future presence. 
 
 But if you would discern the full excellence 
 and loveliness of the religious life, do not rest 
 satisfied with studying the law, or musing over 
 the descriptions of it. Go to the perfect pattern 
 which has been set before the believer for his 
 guidance and encouragement. Look unto Jesus, 
 the author and finisher of your faith. In him are 
 exhibited all the virtues which you are to practise, 
 all the aff*ections and graces which you are to cul- 
 tivate. In him is that rich assemblage of beauti- 
 ful and attractive excellences, which has been the 
 admiration of all reflecting men, the astonishment 
 and eulogy of eloquent unbelievers, and the guide, 
 consolation, and trust of faithful disciples. In the 
 dignity and sweetness which characterize him, 
 how strongly do we feel that tjiere is much more 
 than a display of external qualities, conformity to 
 a prescribed rule, and graceful propriety of out- 
 ward demeanor. Nothing is more striking than 
 the evident connexion of every thing which he 
 said and did with something internal. The sen- 
 timent and disposition which reign within, are 
 constantly visible through his exterior deport- 
 ment ; and we regard his words and his deeds 
 less as distinct outward things, than as expressions 
 or representations of character. As in looking 
 
10 
 
 on certain countenances we have no thought of 
 color, feature, or form, but simply of the moral or 
 intellectual qualities which they suggest; so, in 
 contemplating the life of Jesus, we find ourselves 
 perpetually looking beyond his mere actions, and 
 fixing our thoughts on the qualities which they 
 indicate. His life is but the expressive coun- 
 tenance of his soul. We feel, that, though in the 
 midst of present things, he is led by principles, 
 wrapt in thoughts, pervaded by sentiments, which 
 are above earth, unearthly ; that he is walking in 
 communion with another sphere ; and that the ob- 
 jects around him are matters of interest to him, 
 no further than as they afford materials for the 
 exercise of his benevolence, and opportunities for 
 doing his Father's will. 
 
 This is the personification of religion. This 
 is the model which you are to imitate. And it is 
 when you shall be imbued with this spirit, when 
 you shall be filled with this sentiment, when your 
 words, actions, and life shall be only the spontane- 
 ous expression of this state of mind, — it is then 
 that you will have attained the religious charac- 
 ter, and become spiritually the child of God. You 
 will have built up the kingdom of God within 
 you ; its purity, its devotion, and its peace will 
 be shed abroad in your heart, and thence will 
 display themselves in the manners and conduct of 
 your life. 
 
r" 
 
 11 
 
 To attain and perfect this character is to be the 
 object of your desire, and the business of your 
 life. You must never lose sight of it. In all 
 that you learn, think, feel, and do, you are to have 
 reference to this end. Whatever tends to pro- 
 mote this, you are to cherish and favor. What- 
 ever hinders this, or in any degree operates inju- 
 riously upon it, you are to discountenance and 
 shun. All that gives bias to your passions and 
 appetites, to your inclinations and thoughts, to 
 your opinion of yourself, to your conduct toward 
 others, your private or public employment of your 
 time, your business and gains, your recreation 
 and pleasures, is to be judged of by a reference te 
 this standard, and condemned or apptyved accord- 
 ingly. You are to feel that nothing is of such con- 
 sequence to you as the Christian character ; that 
 to form this is the very work for which you were 
 sent into the world ; that if this be not done, you 
 do nothing, — you had better never have been 
 born ; for your life is wasted without effecting its 
 object, and your soul enters on eternity without 
 having secured its salvation. The provisions of 
 God's mercy are slighted, and for you, the Sa- 
 viour has lived and died in vain. 
 
 It is plain then, that the work to which you ad- 
 dress yourself is arduous as well as delightful. It 
 is not to be done in a short time, nor by a few in- 
 dolent or violent efforts ; not by an excitement of 
 
12 
 
 feeling, nor by an exercise of speculative reason, 
 nor by an assent to professions, forms, and rites ; 
 not by a love of hearing the word preached, nor 
 by attention to the morals of ordinary life, nor by 
 steadfastness in the virtues which are easy and 
 pleasant ;-— but only by a surrender of the whole 
 man, and the entire life to the will of God, in 
 faith, affection, and action ; by a thorough imita- 
 tion of Jesus in the devout and humble temper of 
 his mind, in the spirituality of his affections, and 
 in the purity and loveliness of his conduct. Any 
 thing less than this, any partial, external, super* 
 ficial conformity to a rule of decent living or ritual 
 observance, must be wholly insufficient. For it 
 cannot mould and rule the character, cannot an- 
 swer the claims of the Creator upon his creatures, 
 nor prepare for the happiness which Jesus has re- 
 vealed ; a happiness so described, and so consti- 
 tuted, that none can be fitted for it or be capable 
 of enjoying it, but those who are earnestly and en- 
 tirely conformed to the divine will. Who can 
 relish the spiritual pleasures of eternity, that has 
 not become spiritually minded ? Who could en- 
 joy admission to the society of Jesus and the spir- 
 its of the just made perfect, that is not like them ? 
 Why should one hope for heaven, and how ex- 
 pect to be happy there, if he have not formed a 
 taste for its habits of purity, worship, and love ? 
 Be on your guard, therefore, from the first 
 
13 
 
 against setting your mark too low. Do not allow 
 yourself to be persuaded that any thing less is 
 Religion, or will answer for you, than its com- 
 plete and highest measure. Remember that these 
 things must be " in you and abound." The higher 
 you aim, the higher you will reach ; but if con- 
 tent with a low aim, you will for ever fall short. 
 The scriptural word is Perfection. Strive after 
 that. Never be satisfied while short of it, and 
 then you will be always improving. But if you 
 set yourself some definite measure of goodness, if 
 you prescribe to yourself some limit in devotion 
 and love, you will, by and by, fancy you have 
 reached it, and thus remain stationary in a con- 
 dition far below what you might have attained. 
 Remember always, that you are capable of being 
 more devout, more charitable, more humble, more 
 devoted and earnest in doing good, better ac- 
 quainted with religious truth ; and that, as it is 
 impossible there should be any period to the pro- 
 gress of the human soul, so it is impossible that 
 the endeavor of the soul should be too exalted. 
 It is because men do not think of this, or do not 
 practically apply it, that so many even of those 
 who intend to govern themselves by religious mo- 
 tives, remain so lamentably deficient in excel- 
 lence. They adopt a low or a partial standard, 
 and strive after it sluggishly, and thus come to a 
 period in religion before they arrive at the close 
 c 
 
14. 
 
 of life. Happy they, who are so filled with long* 
 ings after spiritual good, that they go on improv- 
 ing to the end of their days. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 
 
 The account which has been given of religion 
 in the preceding chapter, shows it to be consonant 
 to man's nature, and suited to the faculties with 
 which God has endowed him. His soul is formed 
 for religion, and the Gospel has been adapted to 
 the constitution of his soul. His understanding 
 takes cognizance of its truths, his conscience ap- 
 plies them, his affections are capable of becoming 
 interested in them, and his will of being subject 
 to them. There can be no moment of existence, 
 after he has come to the exercise of his rational 
 faculties, at which this is not the case. As soon 
 as he can love and obey his parents, he can love 
 and obey God ; and this is religion. The capa- 
 city of doing the one is the capacity of doing the 
 other. 
 
 It is true the latter is not so universally done 
 as the former ; but the cause is not, that religion 
 is unsuited to the young, but that their attention 
 is engrossed by visible objects and present plea- 
 
15 
 
 sures. Occupied with these, it requires effort 
 and pains-taking to direct the mind to invisible 
 things ; to turn the attention from the objects 
 which press them on every side, to the abstract 
 spiritual objects of faith. Hence it is easy to see, 
 that the want of early religion is owing primarily 
 to the circumstances in which childhood is placed, 
 and next to remissness in education. Worldly 
 things are before the child's eye, and minister to 
 its gratification every hour and every minute ; 
 but religious things are presented to it only in a 
 formal and dry way once a week. The things of 
 the world are made to constitute its pleasures ; 
 those of religion are made its tasks. It is made 
 to feel its dependence on a parent's love every 
 hour; but is seldom reminded of its dependence 
 on God, and then perhaps only in some stated les- 
 son, which it learns by compulsion, and not in 
 the midst of the actual engagements and pleasures 
 of its little life. It partakes of the caresses of its 
 human parents, and cannot remember the time 
 when it was not an object of their tenderness ; so 
 that their image is woven with its very existence. 
 But God it has never seen, and has seldom heard 
 of him ; his name and presence are banished from 
 common conversation, and inferior and visible 
 agents receive the gratitude for gifts which come 
 from him. So also the parent's authority is im- 
 mediate and visibly exercised, and obedience 
 
16 
 
 grows into the rule and habit of life. But that of 
 God is not displayed in any sensible act or de- 
 claration ; it is only heard of at set times and in 
 set tasks, and thus fails of becoming mingled with 
 the principles of conduct, or forming a rule and 
 habit of subjection. In a word , let it be considered 
 how little and how infrequently the idea of God 
 is brought home to the child^s mind, even under 
 the most favorable circumstances, and how little 
 is done to make him the object of love and obedi- 
 ence, in comparison with what is done to unite its 
 affections to its parents; while, at the same time, 
 the spirituality and invisibility of the Creator 
 render it necessary that even more should be done; 
 — and it will be seen that the want of an early and 
 spontaneous growth of the religious character is 
 not owing to the want of original capacity for re- 
 ligion, but is to be traced to the unpropitious cir- 
 cumstances in which childhood is passed, and the 
 want of uniform, earnest, persevering instruction. 
 I have made this statement for two reasons. 
 First, because I think it points out the immense 
 importance of a religious education, and is an ur- 
 gent call upon parents for greater diligence in this 
 duty. No parent will deliberately say, in excuse 
 for his neglect, that his children are incapable of 
 apprehending and performing their duty to God. 
 He will perceive that the same operation of cir- 
 cumstances and of unceasing influences, which haa 
 
17 
 
 made them devoted to him, would make them de- 
 voted to God ; and religion is that state of mind 
 toward God, which a good child exercises toward 
 a parent. It is the same principle and the same 
 affections, fixing themselves on an infinitely high- 
 er object. Let parents be aware of this, and they 
 will feel the call and the encouragement to a more 
 systematic and affectionate attention to the reli- 
 gious instruction of their children. 
 
 I have made this statement, moreover, because 
 it off'ers a guide to those who have passed through 
 childhood without permanent religious impres- 
 sions, and are now desirous of attaining them. It 
 is principally for such that I write. They maybe 
 divided into many classes ; some more and some 
 lessdistantfrom the kingdom of God ; some profli- 
 gate, some indiff'erent ; some with much goodness 
 of outward performance, but with no internal 
 principle of faith and piety ; and some without 
 even external conformity to right. But however 
 diff'ering in their past course of life, and in the 
 peculiar habits and dispositions which character- 
 ize them, in one thing they now agree, — they are 
 sensible of their errors and sins, and desire to ap- 
 ply themselves to that true and living way, which 
 shall lead them to the favor of God and everlast- 
 ing life. They feel that there is a great work to 
 be done, a great change to be eff'ected, either in- 
 ternally, or externally, or both, and they are de- 
 c 2 
 
sirous to learn in what manner it shall be effected. 
 To such persons the statement which I have 
 made above may be useful. Let them look back 
 to it, and reflect upon it. God has given them 
 powers for doing the work which he has assigned 
 to them. That work is expressed in one word,— 
 the comprehensive name Religion. That work 
 they should have begun and perseveringly pur- 
 sued from their earliest days. But they have 
 done otherwise. They have wandered from duty, 
 and been unfaithful to God. They have gone far 
 from him, like the unwise prodigal, and wasted 
 the portion he gave them in vicious or unprofita- 
 ble pursuits. They have cultivated the animal 
 life; they have lived 'according to the flesh.' 
 They need to cultivate the spiritual life ; to live 
 * according to the spirit.' There is an animal life, 
 and there is a spiritual life. Man is born into 
 the first at the birth of his body ; he is born into 
 the second, when he subjects himself to the power 
 of religion, and prefers his rational and immortal 
 to his sensual nature. During his earliest days he 
 is an animal only, pursuing, like other animals, 
 the wants and desires of his body, and consulting 
 his present gratification and immediate interest. 
 But it is not designed that he shall continue thus. 
 He is made for something better and higher. He 
 has a nobler nature and nobler interests. He must 
 It am to live for these ; and this learning to feel and 
 
19 
 
 value his spiritual nature and to live for eternity ; 
 this change from the animal and earthly existence 
 of infancy, to a rational, moral, spiritual existence, 
 — this it is to be born into the spiritual life. This 
 is a renovation of principle and purpose through 
 which every one must pass. Every one must thus 
 turn from his natural devotion to things earthly 
 to a devotion to things heavenly. This change it is 
 the object of the gospel to effect ; and we seek no 
 less than this, when we seek the influence of the 
 gospel on our souls. 
 
 Now the persons of whom I am speaking have 
 not yet acquired this new taste and principle. It 
 has made with them no part of the process of edu- 
 cation. It is yet to be acquired. They are de- 
 sirous of acquiring it. Let them first be persua- 
 ded of its absolute necessity. Until this is felt, 
 nothing can be effectually done. Without it there 
 will be no such strenuous effort for religious at- 
 tainment as is necessary to success. Many per- 
 sons have at times, some have frequently, a cer- 
 tain conviction upon their minds that they are not 
 passing their lives as they ought, and they make 
 half a resolution to do differently. They are ill 
 content with tlieir condition, they long to be free 
 from the reproaches of conscience, they wish to 
 be assured that their souls are safe. But although 
 uneasy and dissatisfied, they take no steps to- 
 wards improving their condition, because they 
 
20 
 
 have no proper persuasion of its absolute necessi- 
 ty. They must be deeply convinced of tliis. They 
 must strongly feel that a state of indifference is a 
 state of danger ; that they are on the brink of ruin, 
 so long as they are alienated from God, and 
 governed by passion, appetite, and inclination, 
 rather than a sense of duty. And such is the 
 power of habit, that they in vain hope to be de- 
 livered from its bondage, and to become consistent 
 followers of Christ, unless a strong feeling shall 
 lead them to make a resolute, energetic effort. If 
 they allow themselves to fancy that it will be time 
 enough by and by ; that, after all, the case is not 
 very desperate, but can be remedied at any time ; 
 and that it would be a pity yet to abandon their 
 pleasant vices ; — then there is no hope for them. 
 They are cherishing the most dangerous of all 
 states of mind ;• a state, which prevents all real 
 desire for improvement, is continually weakening 
 their power of change, and absolutely destroys 
 the prospect of amendment. They must begin the 
 remedy by a persuasion of its necessity. They 
 must feel it so strongly, that they cannot rest con- 
 tent without immediately subjecting themselves 
 to the dominion of religion, — as a starving man 
 feels the necessity of immediately applying to the 
 search for food. No man will give himself to the 
 thoughts, studies, devotions, and charities of a re- 
 ligious life, who does not find them essential to 
 
21 
 
 the satisfaction and peace of his mind, that is, 
 who is satisfied without them. Cherish therefore 
 the conviction of this necessity. Cultivate by 
 every possible means a deep persuasion of the 
 truth, that the service and love of God are the 
 only sufficient sources of happiness ; and that 
 only pain and shame can await him, who withholds 
 his soul from the light and purity for which it 
 was made. 
 
 Feeling thus the importance of a religious life, 
 let them next be persuaded that its attainment is 
 entirely in their power. It is but to use the 
 faculties which God has given them, in the work 
 and with the aid which God has appointed. No 
 one will venture to say that he is incapable of this. 
 A religious life, as we have seen, grows out of 
 the relations in which man stands to God and his 
 fellow men ; and as he is made accountable for 
 the performance of the duties of these relations, 
 it is impossible that he is not created capable of 
 performing them. It were as reasonable to urge 
 that a child cannot love and obey its father and 
 mother, as that man cannot love and obey God. 
 
 Yet it so happens, that some profess to be de- 
 terred from a religious course, by the apprehen- 
 sion that it is not in their power ; it is something 
 which it must be given them to do ; a work which 
 must be wrought in them by a supernatural ener- 
 gy ; they must wait till their time has come. But 
 
22 
 
 every apology for irreligion founded on reasons 
 like this, is evidently deceptive. It proceeds 
 upon wrong notions respecting the divine aid im- 
 parted to man. That this aid is needed and is 
 given in the Christian life, is a true and a com- 
 forting doctrine. But that it is to supersede hu- 
 man exertion, that it is a^reason for indolence and 
 religious neglect, is a false and pernicious no- 
 tion, — countenanced, I will venture to affirm, by 
 no one whose opinion or example is honored or 
 followed in the Christian church. On the con- 
 trary, all agree in declaring with the Apostle, 
 that while God works in us to will and to do, we 
 are to work out our own salvation ; and to do it 
 wxihfear and trembling, because, after all, these 
 divine influences will be vain without our own 
 diligence. 
 
 In some persons, notion takes the form of a real 
 or fancied humility. They fear lest they be found 
 seeking salvation through their own works, and 
 relying on their own merits. But what a strange 
 humility this, which leads to a disregard of the 
 divine will, and disobedience to the divine com- 
 mands ; which virtually says, * I will continue in 
 sin that grace may abound ! ' Let me ask, too, 
 Who will trust to receive salvation without actual 
 obedience ? Where is it promised to those, who 
 will do nothing in the way of self-government and 
 active virtue ? Where is it offered to any, but 
 
23 
 
 those who seek it by bringing forth fruits meet 
 for repentance, and by patient contimiaiice in well- 
 doing ? 
 
 And let none fear lest this make void the grace 
 of God, For how is it that grace leads to salva- 
 tion ? By arbitrarily fitting the soul for it, and 
 ushering it into heaven without its own co-oper- 
 ation ? Or is it not rather by opening a free high- 
 way to the kingdom of life, through which all may 
 walk and be saved ? This is what the Saviour 
 has done ; he has made the path of life accessible 
 and plain, has thrown open the gate of heaven, 
 has taught men how to enter in and reach their 
 bliss. Whoever pursues this path and enters 
 through the gate into the city, is saved by grace. 
 For though he has used his own powers to travel 
 on this highvv^ay, yet he did not establish that 
 highway, nor could he have traversed it without 
 guidance and aid, nor opened for himself the door 
 of entrance. Heaven is still a free gift, inasmuch 
 as it is granted by infinite benignity to those who 
 did not, do not, and cannot deserve it. Yet there 
 are certain conditions to be performed. And to 
 refuse the performance of those conditions, on the 
 plea that you thus derogate from the mercy of 
 God, and do something to purchase or merit hap- 
 piness, is a madness which ought to be strenuous- 
 ly opposed, or it will leave you to perish in your 
 sins. 
 
24 
 
 These two tilings tlien may be regarded as 
 axioms of the religious life ; first, that a man's 
 own labors are essential to his salvation ; second, 
 that his utmost virtue does nothing toward pur- 
 chasing or meriting salvation. When he has done 
 all his duty, he is still, as the Saviour declares, 
 but an 'unprofitable servant.' He has been more 
 than recompensed by the blessings of this present 
 life. That the happiness of an eternal state may 
 be attained, in addition to these, is a provision of 
 pure grace ; and it is mere insanity to neglect the 
 duties of religion through any fear lest you should 
 seem to be seeking heaven on the ground of your 
 own desert. Virtue would be your duty, though 
 you were to perish for ever at the grave; and that 
 God has opened to his children the prospect o^ 
 an inheritance infinitely disproportioned to their 
 merit, is only a further reason for making virtue 
 your first and chief pursuit. 
 
 It is true there is great infirmity in human 
 nature, and you will find yourself perplexed and 
 harrassedby temptations from without and within. 
 Passion, appetite, pleasure, and care solicit and 
 urge you, and render it not easy to keep yourself 
 unspotted from the world. But what then? Does 
 this excuse the want of exertion ? Is this a good 
 reason for sitting idly with folded arms, and say- 
 ing, It is all vain, I am wretchedly weak, I can- 
 not undertake this work, till God gives me 
 
25 
 
 strength? Believe me, there is no humility in 
 this. Think as humbly of yourself and your 
 deserts, as you please ; but to think so meanly of 
 the powers God has given you as to deem them 
 insufficient for the work he has assigned you, is 
 less humility than ingratitude and want of faith. 
 Nothing is truer than this, — that your work is 
 proportioned to your powers, and your trials to 
 your strength. ' No temptation hath taken you 
 but such as is common to man ; but God is faith- 
 ful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above 
 that ye are able ; but will, with the temptation, 
 also make a way to escape, that ye may be able 
 to bear it.' Here is the manifestation of peculiar 
 grace ; when a sincere and humble spirit, in its 
 earnest search for the true way, encounters obsta- 
 cles, hardships, and opposition, at this moment it 
 is, that aid from on high is interposed. The pro- 
 mise to Paul is fulfilled, i* My strength is made 
 perfect in weakness.' * The spirit helpeth our 
 infirmities.' Let it be, then, that human nature 
 is weak ; no w ork is appointed greater than its 
 power, and it * can do all things through Christ 
 who strengtheneth.' 
 
 Be thoroughly persuaded, therefore, that the 
 work before you is wholly within your power. 
 Nothing has a more palsying effect on one's ex- 
 ertions in any enterprise, than the doubt whether 
 he be equal to it. Something like confidence is 
 
 D 
 
56 
 
 necessary to enable him to pursue it vigorously 
 and perseveringly. It is as necessary in action, 
 as the Apostle represents it to be in prayer. * He 
 that wavereth or doubteth is like a wave of the 
 sea, driven by the wind and tossed/ But when 
 he has confidence, as the Christian may have, 
 that his strength is equal to his task, that he can- 
 not fail if he resolutely go forward, and that all 
 hindrances must disappear before a steady and in- 
 dustrious zeal, which leans upon God, and is 
 strong in the power of the Lord, — then he presses 
 on with alacrity, encounters trials without alarm, 
 and is * steadfast, immovable, always abounding 
 in the work of the Lord ; knowing that his labor 
 IS not in vain in the Lord ;' for that nothing but 
 his own fault can bar him out of heaven, or cause 
 him to fail of eternal life. 
 
 And all this is perfectly consistent with the 
 deepest humility, and the profoundest sense of 
 dependence on God. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE STATE OF MIND IN WHICH THE INQUIRER 
 SHOULD SUSTAIN HIMSELF. 
 
 All thiS) I say, is perfectly consistent with 
 the deepest humility and most unassuming de- 
 
27 
 
 pendence upon God. If it were not, it would be 
 false and wrong ; for a humble and dependent 
 disposition is a prime requisite in the Christian ; 
 a grace to be especially cultivated at the begin- 
 ning of the religious course. It is concerning 
 this state of mind that we are now to speak. 
 
 Deep religious impressions are always accom- 
 panied by a sense of personal unworthiness, and 
 not unfrequently commence with it. It is man's 
 acquaintance with himself, which leads him most 
 earnestly to seek the acquaintance of God , and to 
 perceive the need of his favor. The sense of sin, 
 the feeling that his life has not been right, that 
 his heart is not pure, that his thoughts, disposi- 
 tions, appetites, passions, have not been duly re- 
 gulated, that he has lived according to his own 
 will and not that of God, that if taken from his 
 worldly possession, he has no other object of de- 
 sire and affection to which his heart could cling, 
 if called to judgment for the use of his powers and 
 privileges he must be speechless and hopeless ; 
 all this rises solemnly to his mind, and sinks him 
 low under a sense of ill desert and shame. He 
 sees that he might have been, ought to have been, 
 better; that he might have been, ought to have 
 been, obedient to God, and a follower of all that 
 is good. He cannot excuse himself to himself. 
 Every effort to palliate his guilt, only shows him 
 its aggravation ; and he cries out, with the peni- 
 
28 
 
 tent prodigal, * Father, I have sinned against 
 heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy 
 to be called thy son.' He has offended against 
 knowledge and opportunity, and in spite of in- 
 struction and warning. He looks back to the 
 early and innocent days, when, if his Saviour had 
 been on earth, he might have taken him to his 
 arms, and said, ' Of such is the kingdom of God.' 
 But alas, how has he been changed ! He has 
 parted with that innocence, he has strayed from 
 the kingdom of heaven, he has defiled and lost 
 the image of his Maker. While he dwells on 
 this thought of what he was and what he might 
 have become, and contrasts it with what he is, he 
 is filled with remorse. He exaggerates to him- 
 self all his failings, paints in blacker colors than 
 even the truth, all his iniquities, counts himself 
 the chief of sinners, and is almost ready to despair 
 of mercy. 
 
 When the mind is strongly agitated in this 
 way, it is surprising how the characters of very 
 different men become, as it were, equalized. Of 
 many individuals, differing in the most various 
 ways as regards the number and nature, the mag- 
 nitude and circumstances of their offences, and 
 most widely separated in the actual scale of de- 
 merit, each at such a season regards himself as 
 the most guilty of men. Sometimes the high- 
 wrought expressions, in which the victim of re- 
 
29 
 
 morse vents the excruciating anguish of his mind, 
 are accounted affectation and hypocrisy. But 
 tliere can be no good reason to doubt that they 
 are entirely sincere. The man honestly describes 
 himself as he seems to himself at the time. He 
 is in his own eyes the wretch he draws. And 
 this is very easily explained. He sees at one 
 view all his past sins, open and secret, his thought- 
 lessness, ingratitude, negligence, and omissions, 
 his depraved inclinations, evil desires, and cher- 
 ished lusts, which no one else knows, and which 
 no one else could compare, as he can, with his 
 privileges and obligations. All these he sets by the 
 side, not of the hidden and private life of others, 
 but of their decent public demeanor. He com- 
 pares tbem too, not with the standard of worldly, 
 outward morality, but with the strict, searching, 
 holy requisitions of the law of God. And in such 
 a comparison, at such a moment, he cannot but 
 regard himself as most unworthy and depraved. 
 
 And we need not be too anxious at once to cor- 
 rect this feeling. The abasement is well ; for no 
 one can feel guilt too strongly, or abhor sin too 
 deeply. The time will come, when he will learn 
 to follow the direction of the Apostle, and ' think 
 of himself soberly, as he ought to think.' But 
 at this first fair inspection of the deformities of 
 his character, it is not to be expected that he 
 should make his estimate with perfect sobriety. 
 D 2 
 
so 
 
 Only let every thing be done to guide and soothe 
 and encourage him, and nothing to exasperate his 
 self-condemnation, or drive him to insanity or de- 
 spair. 
 
 But such a state of mind as I have described, 
 though not uncommon, and by many cherished as 
 the most desirable and suitable at the commence- 
 ment of the religious life, is by no means univer- 
 sal at that period, and cannot be regarded as es- 
 sential. The experience of different individuals 
 in this respect greatly varies, and is much affect- 
 ed by temper and disposition, as v/ell as by other 
 circumstances. Many of the best Christians have 
 never been subjected to those violent and tortur- 
 ing emotions, which have shaken and convulsed 
 others. Their course has been placid and serene, 
 though solemn and humble. They have felt their 
 sin, and have mourned beneath it, and in deep 
 humiliation have sought its forgiveness ; but with- 
 out any thing of terrified emotion or gloomy des- 
 pondency. They have been gently won to truth 
 by the mild invitations of parental love, without 
 needing the fearful denunciations of punishment 
 •end wrath to awaken them. This difference 
 among individuals is owing partly, as I said, to 
 constitutional difference of temperament, which 
 renders it impossible that the same representa- 
 tions should effect all alike ; and partly to the 
 different modes in which religion is presented to 
 
SI 
 
 cHiTerent minds ; having first appeared to some in 
 its liarslier features, as to the Jews on Sinai, and 
 to others in the milder form of a Saviour's com- 
 passion. But however this may be, and however 
 the humiliation of one may wear a difi'erent com- 
 plexion from that of another, it is a state of mind 
 sincere and heartfelt in all, to be studiously cher- 
 ished, and to be made a permanent feature in the 
 character. 
 
 In the beginning of the Christian life this feel- 
 ing assumes the form of anxiety, as it afterwards 
 leads to watchfulness. This word may, perhaps 
 as well as anv, describe the state of those for 
 whom 1 am writing. They are anxious about 
 themselves, about their characters, their condi- 
 tion, their prospects. They are anxious to know 
 what they shall do to be saved, and to gain satis- 
 factory assurance that they shall be pardoned and 
 accepted of God. This is a most reasonable soli- 
 citude. What can be more reasonable than such 
 a solicitude for the greatest and most lasting good 
 to man ? What more becoming a rational crea- 
 ture, whose eternal welfare is dependent on his 
 own choice between good and evil, than this de- 
 sire to know and pursue the right ? this earnest 
 thoughtfulness respecting his condition? and this 
 inquiry for the true end of his being ? If a per- 
 son, hitherto thoughtless, is in this state of mind, 
 he is to be congratulated upon it. We are to be 
 
32 
 
 thankful to God in his behalf, that another im- 
 mortal soul is awake to its responsibility, and seek- 
 ing real happiness. We would urge him to cher- 
 ish the feelings which possess him ; not with me- 
 lancholy despondency; not with superstitious 
 gloom ; not with unmanly and unmeaning debase- 
 ment ; but with thoughtful, self-distrusting con- 
 cern, with deliberate study for the path of duty, 
 and a resolute purpose not to swerve from it. 
 
 Remember that much depends, I might say, 
 every thing depends, on the use you Biake of this 
 your present disposition. Be faithful to it, obey 
 its promptings, let it form in you the habit of de- 
 vout reflection and religious action, and all must 
 be well. The issue will be the Christian charac- 
 ter, and the soul's salvation. But, refuse to cher- 
 ish this disposition, drive it from you, smother 
 and silence it, and you will probably do yourself 
 an everlasting injury. It is like putting out a 
 fire which has just been lighted, and which may 
 with difficulty be kindled again. It is trifling 
 with the sensibility of conscience, it is bringing 
 hardness upon your heart ; and there is less pros- 
 pect that you will afterward arrive at an habitual 
 and controlling regard for your religious interests. 
 This it is to * quench the spirit.' 
 
 Be sensible, therefore, that this is a critical 
 moment in the history of your character, that it 
 is in many respects the decisive point, at which 
 
33 
 
 your destiny is to be determined. For now it is, 
 in all probability, that the bias of your mind is 
 to be determined for good or evil. Be sensible 
 then how necessary it is that you keep alive, and 
 cultivate by all possible means, this tenderness of 
 heart. Avoid every pursuit, engagement, and 
 company which you find to be inconsistent with 
 it, or unfavorable to it, or tending to destroy it. 
 Scenes at other times innocent, should now be 
 shunned, if they operate to turn the current of 
 your affections ; for you are engaging in a great 
 work, the giving your heart a permanent bias to- 
 ward God, and it ought not to be interrupted. 
 While this is doing, you can well afford to with- 
 draw from many scenes you might otherwise fre- 
 quent, and indeed you can ill afford the risk of 
 exposing yourself to their influence. 
 
 It may be well to observe another caution. Say 
 nothing of your thoughts and feelings to any, but 
 one or two confidential friends. Many a religi- 
 ous character has been spoiled in the forming by 
 too much talk with too many persons. The best 
 religious character is formed in retirement, by 
 much silent reflection, and private reading and 
 prayer. What the soul needs above all things, 
 is to commune with itself and with God ; then it 
 is established, strengthened, settled. But if a 
 man go out from his closet, and seek for instruc- 
 tion and guidance by talking with all who will 
 
34> 
 
 talk with him, he fritters away his feelings ; his 
 frame becomes less deeply and essentially spiri- 
 tual ; words take the place of sentiment ; and he 
 is very likely to become a talkative, fluent, super- 
 ficial religionist, with much show of sound doc- 
 trine, and a goodly readiness of sound speech, but 
 without substantial principle. Shun, therefore, 
 rather than seek, much communication with many 
 persons. But some counsel and encouragement 
 you may need. Apply therefore to your minis-- 
 ter. He is your legitimate and true counsellor, 
 and he will be glad, in friendly and confidential 
 intercourse, to lead you on. You may have also 
 some pious friend to whom possibly you may un- 
 bosom yourself more freely, than you have courage 
 to do to your minister, and he may, in some par- 
 ticulars, give you aid, which the situation of the 
 pastor may put it out of his power to afford. In 
 this manner, feel your way along quietly, silently, 
 steadily. Let the growth within you be like that 
 of the grain of wheat, which germinates in secret, 
 and springs up without observation, and attracts 
 little notice of men, till it shows the ear and the 
 full corn in the ear. Be anxious to establish 
 yourself firmly in the power of godliness, before 
 you exhibit its fortn. 
 
 In connexion with this, it may be well to add a 
 caution on a kindred point. Do not spend too 
 much time in public meetings. You will of course 
 
35 
 
 be desirous to hear the preaching of the gospel. 
 You feel as if you could not hear it too often or 
 too much. You wonder that preaching should 
 never before have seemed so interesting. You 
 listen with new ears ; and prayers, hymns, and 
 sermons fall upon your spirit as if you had been 
 gifted with a new sense. It is well that it is so. 
 By all means cherish this ardent interest in pub- 
 lic worship. But do not indulge it to excess. Let 
 your moderation be seen in giving to this its pro- 
 per place and importance in your time and regard. 
 It is not the only religious enjoyment or means 
 of improvement in your power ; and it may possi- 
 bly by mere self-indulgence which carries one 
 from meeting to meeting. Remember that no 
 duty towards others is to be neglected in the 
 search for personal improvement ; this would be 
 sin. And it is at times a higher duty to attend 
 to your family, to be with your friends, to instruct 
 your children, to consult the feelings and yield to 
 the prejudices of a husband or wife, a parent, 
 brother, or sister, than it is to pursue your own 
 single advantage, it maybe your own gratification, 
 by going out to social worship. And if it be your 
 object to please God or discipline your own spirit, 
 you will better effect that object by this exercise 
 of self-denial, than by doing what would give un- 
 easiness to others, and perhaps even alienate them 
 from you, and render them hostile to religion it- 
 
36 
 
 self. The advice of the Apostle to wives is in 
 force on this point, and is equally applicable to 
 the other social relations : * Ye wives, be in 
 subjection to your own husbands ; that if any obey 
 not the word, they may, without the word, be won 
 by the conversation of the wives ; while they be- 
 hold your chaste conversation coupled with fear. ' 
 Be warned therefore against this error. And 
 what are you to lose by the course which I re- 
 commend ? Believe me, however much may be 
 gained by the sympathy and excitement of a pub- 
 lic assembly, quite as much is gained by the sacri- 
 fice of your inclinations to duty and to the feel- 
 ings of others, and by the silent unwitnessed ex- 
 ercises of retirement, which no one can forbid 
 you. Look not at the present moment, but at the 
 end. Your desire is to form a genuine, solid, 
 thorough, permanent character of devotion. Well ; 
 try to form it wholly in the excitement and be- 
 neath the external influence of public meetings, 
 and it will be such a character as can exist only 
 in such scenes. Your piety will always need the 
 presence and voice of men to keep it alive, and, 
 unsustained by them, will sink away and die. 
 This at least is the danger to be apprehended ; 
 and experience declares that it is no slight one. 
 But form your character in private, build it up 
 by the action of your own mind, under the di- 
 rection of the Bible and by intercourse with the 
 
37 
 
 Father of spirits, — and then it will always be in- 
 dependent of other men and of outward circum- 
 stances. It will be self-sustained on a foundation 
 which man and earth cannot shake, alike power- 
 ful in the solitude and in the crowd, and immov- 
 able in steadfastness , though all other men prove 
 false, and faith hath fled all other bosoms. It is 
 such a piety that belongs to the Christian ; it is 
 such that you are to seek ; and you may well be 
 apprehensive of failure, if you neglect this salu- 
 tary caution. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 The means to be used in order to render per- 
 manent your religious impressions, and promote 
 the growth of your character, are now to be con- 
 sidered. They may be arranged under the fol- 
 lowing heads : — Reading, Meditation, Prayer, 
 Hearing the word preached, and the Lord's Sup- 
 per. 
 
 I. Reading. 
 
 I begin with the more private means ; and I 
 speak of reading first, because it is in the perusal 
 of the Scriptures that the beginning of religious 
 
 E 
 
38 
 
 knowledge is to be found. It is they which tes-. 
 tify of Christ, and have the words of eternal life. 
 It is they which make us wise unto salvation. 
 And it is through a devout acquaintance with 
 them, that the mind and heart grow in the know- 
 ledge and love of God, and that the dispositions 
 are formed which prepare for heaven. Every 
 one may read the Bible, and, such is its plainness 
 and simplicity in all matters pertaining to life 
 and godliness, that if he be able to read nothing 
 else, he may yet learn all that is essential to duty 
 and acceptance. Hence it has happened, that 
 many, to whom circumstances have interdicted all 
 general acquaintance with books, have gathered, 
 from their solitary study of the Bible alone, a 
 wisdom which has expanded and elevated their 
 minds, and a peace which has raised them above 
 the darkness and trials of an unhappy worldly 
 lot. 
 
 There are those whose condition in life is such, 
 that they have very little time or means to devote 
 to books, and it were vain to recommend to them 
 that they should seek instruction beyond the sa- 
 cred pages, and the simplest elementary worLs 
 of devotion. While therefore it is the undoubted 
 duty of every one to make the utmost possible 
 progress in religious knowledge, no one is to be 
 condemned for that omission of study and igno- 
 rance of books which are rendered una\ oidable 
 
39 
 
 by circumstances. We must make a distinction, 
 it has been truly said, between that which is the 
 duty of all, and may be done by all, that is, a 
 careful and devout perusal of the Scriptures, and 
 that which is the duty, because within the ability 
 only of a more limited number, — the study of 
 other sources of knowledge and virtue. These, 
 every one must pursue in proportion to his leisure 
 and means. 
 
 The class of those who have the leisure and 
 means is large and numerous ; it is to be wished 
 that they were more alive to their obligation to 
 improve themselves accordingly. I know not 
 how it happens, that serious and devout persons 
 are so content to be ignorant on those great topics 
 which they truly feel to transcend all others in 
 importance. It certainly deserves their consider- 
 ation, whether this indifference be either credita- 
 ble or right. Capacity and opportunity form the 
 measure of duty ; and if they have received the 
 power and means of cultivating their minds and 
 adding to their treasures of truth and thought, 
 they should regard it as an intimation that this is 
 required of them. They should not esteem it 
 enough to be sincere and conscientious ; they 
 should desire to be well-informed ; well-informed 
 respecting the interpretation of the more difficult 
 and curious portions of holy writ, respecting the 
 history and transmission of the records of their 
 
40 
 
 faith, the fortunes of the church in successive 
 ages, the effects of their religion and other reli- 
 gions on the world, the past and present state of 
 religious opinions, the past and present operations 
 of Christian benevolence, the means of doing 
 good, and the lives, labors, and speculations of 
 the eminent professors of their faith. Now all 
 this is to be known only through books ; and in 
 order to attain it, a judicious selection of books, 
 and an appropriation of certain seasons for read- 
 ing, are primarily requisite. The bare importance 
 and interest of these subjects ought to be a suflS- 
 cient inducement to the adoption of this course. 
 
 There are many other considerations which ren- 
 der it worthy of attention. The preaching of di- 
 vine truth becomes far more profitable to those 
 who have prepared themselves for it by a previ- 
 ous acquaintance with books and subjects. Words 
 are used in the pulpit, modes of speech occur, 
 allusions are made, and facts and reasonings re- 
 ferred to, which presuppose an acquaintance with 
 certain subjects, and which are entirely, lost to 
 those who never read. The better a hearer is 
 furnished with preliminary knowledge, the great - 
 er pleasure will he derive from the pulpit ; be- 
 cause the better will he understand and appreci- 
 ate the sentiments expressed. At present, such 
 is the uninformed character of a large portion of 
 ordinary congregations, that a minister is com^ 
 
41 
 
 pelled to pass by many modes of illustration, and 
 many representations of truth and duty, because 
 they would be to a great majority unintelligible, 
 and therefore unprofitable. Instead of going on 
 to perfection in the proclamation of higher and 
 wider views, he is compelled, as the Apostle com- 
 plained in a similar case, to confine himself * to 
 the first principles of the oracles of God.'* Some 
 teachers, unwilling or unable thus to adapt them- 
 selves to the actual stature of their hearer's minds, 
 pursue their own modes of thought and expres- 
 sion, without regard to their audience ; and while 
 they gratify a few reading and thinking men, 
 leave the mass of the people uninstructed and un- 
 affected. Herein is a sad error. But if the preach- 
 er must adapt himself to the hearers, the hearers 
 ought to prepare themselves for the preaching. 
 This is to be done by greater familiarity with re- 
 ligious books. They would then be ready for 
 higher and more extensive themes, and for a wid- 
 er scope of illustration, while the preacher would 
 cease to feel himself fettered. As it is, warmed 
 and filled as his mind must often be by large con- 
 templation and exalted study, he sometimes un- 
 consciously speaks that which is an unknown 
 tongue to the unlettered man, though delightful 
 and wholesome to him whose habits of reading 
 have prepared him to receive it. 
 
 * Heb. y, 12. 
 E2 
 
42 
 
 Further still. It might do for mere men o£ 
 the world, who professedly seek only worldly 
 good, and hold of little worth the goods of the 
 mind, — it might do for them to neglect books and 
 thinking, and spend all their precious leisure in 
 idle recreations. They are living for the body. 
 But it is the distinction of the Christian, that he 
 lives for the soul, for his intellectual and moral 
 nature, for that part of him which is noblest now, 
 and which alone shall live forever. He has pas- 
 sed out of the animal, into the spiritual life. It 
 is not for him to omit or neglect any suitable 
 means of intellectual or moral cultivation. He 
 is guilty of criminal inconsistency, he is a traitor 
 to his own mind, if he refuse to nourish it, sys- 
 tematically, with knowledge and truth. To keep 
 it inactive and ignorant, is to keep it degraded. 
 Jesus lived and died for it, that it might attain 
 the truth, and that the truth might make it free. 
 But what is the freedom of the mind bound in the 
 fetters of ignorance ? Freedom and elevation can 
 come to it only through knowledge, and one chief 
 fountain of knowledge is books. These inform 
 and excite, and furnish food for thought. Thought 
 is exercise ; it is to the mind what motion is to 
 the body. Without it, there is neither health 
 nor strength. And when God has graciously or- 
 dered that your lot should be cast amid the abun- 
 dance of books, where you need only put forth 
 
43 
 
 your hand to be supplied ; when he thus makes 
 easy to you that intellectual and moral attain- 
 ment which is the soul's dignity and happiness ; 
 1 see not how you can answer it to your conscience 
 if you do not sacredly devote to this object a cerr 
 tain portion of your leisure. 
 
 In regard to the quantity of time to be thus em- 
 ployed, no uniform rule can be given. Men vary 
 so much in occupation, opportunity, and leisure, 
 that while one may easily command hours, another 
 can with difficulty secure minutes. On this point 
 every one must be left to the decision of his own 
 conscience. Inquire of that impartially and se- 
 riously, and then determine how large a portion 
 of time you can daily give to this great object. I 
 believe it may be laid dov/n as certain, that most 
 persons may afford to it a great deal more than 
 they imagine. Some make no effort to do any 
 thing, because they can effect so little that they 
 account it not worth the effort. But they should 
 remember, that duty does not consist in doing 
 great things, but in doing what we can ; and that 
 if they would redeem from the hurry of business 
 and the relaxation of sleep one quarter of an hour 
 a day, it would be a more praiseworthy offering 
 than the many hours given by others. Even five 
 minutes a day would be worth something, would 
 be invaluable to one who was earnestly bent on 
 using it. It would amount in a year to about 
 
44 
 
 thirty hours ; and who will say that it is not bet- 
 ter to improve the mind for thirty hours, than not 
 at all ? But I am persuaded that there is scarcely 
 any one, however engrossed in necessary cares, 
 who may not find much more time than this — who 
 may not find an hour a day. By greater care of 
 the minutes which he wastes, by abridging a little 
 from his meals, a little from his pleasures, and a 
 little from his sleep, it would be easily accom- 
 plished. If one be in earnest, as he should be, 
 if he seek for wisdom as for gold, and for under- 
 standing as for hid treasure, it will be no impossi- 
 ble thing to find the requisite time. Few men 
 but could readily gain an hour a day, if they were 
 to gain by it a dollar a day. Indeed, it is often 
 seen in actual life, that a person, to whom reli- 
 gion has become an object of deep concern, con- 
 trives to devote to his books more time than this, 
 though before he would have thought it impossi- 
 ble. Nothing is wanting but the * the willing 
 mind.' If one feel the necessity, every thing else 
 will give way. Hather than remain ignorant and 
 without progress in the truth, he will cheerfully 
 watch an hour later at night, and rise an hour 
 earlier in the morning. The gain to the mind 
 will more than balance the inconvenience to the 
 body. 
 
 You may regard it, then, as some proof of the 
 sincerity and earnestness of your desire for im- 
 
45 
 
 provement, if you find yourself able to appropri- 
 ate a certain portion of time to profitable reading. 
 It is important that you select for this purpose 
 those hours which shall be least liable to inter- 
 ruption, and that you allow nothing to infringe 
 upon them. Keep this as holy time. Be punctu- 
 al and faithful to it, as the banker to his hours of 
 business. 
 
 There are seasons in every one's vocation, at 
 which his business is less pressing than at others ; 
 and there are also seasons of leisure, which he 
 feels at liberty to take for recreation and amuse- 
 ment. As you will have lost all taste for frivolous 
 amusement and unprofitable pleasures, you will 
 be able to devote all such seasons to the improve- 
 ment of your mind ; and instead of the theatre 
 and the ball-room, from which you would have 
 returned fatigued in body and distracted in mind, 
 and to some extent unfitted for duty, you will en- 
 joy the converse of the great minds which have 
 blessed the world ; and after filling your soul 
 with their thoughts, will go back to your ordinary 
 duty with a spirit refreshed and invigorated, and 
 a body unwearied. During the season of long 
 evenings, especially, when so many are hurrying 
 from diversion to diversion, as if this long leisure 
 were provided them only that they may contrive 
 how ingeniously they can throw it away, — you 
 will perceive that you have a most favorable op- 
 
portunity for pursuing extensive researches, and 
 making large acquisitions of knowledge. Even- 
 ing after evening, in your own quiet retirement, 
 you will sit down to this instructive application. 
 By this diligence, what progress may you make; 
 what volumes may you master ; to what extent 
 may you penetrate the secrets of science, acquire 
 a knowledge of history and of letters, and become 
 enriched with those great and various treasures 
 of intellect, which are subservient to the growth 
 of the mind and the glory of God. You will thus 
 be using time for the purpose for which it was 
 given, — the ripening and perfecting of your im- 
 mortal mind ; and at all intervals of release from 
 duty to others, will make it your happiness to be 
 thus performing a great duty to yourself. 
 
 In your selection of books, the Bible will, of 
 course, hold the first place. This is to be read 
 daily, and to be your favorite book. Remember, 
 however, that it may be perused in such a man- 
 ner, that it were better never to have opened it. 
 If studied inattentively, for form's sake, or only 
 for the purpose of gathering arguments to support 
 your opinions, it is read irreligiously, and there- 
 fore unprofitably. You must habitually regard 
 it as uttering instructions with a voice of authori- 
 ty, of which you are earnestly to seek the true 
 meaning, and then submissively to obey them. 
 You must never forget that your hopes of right 
 
47 
 
 instruction are suspended on the simplicity and 
 fidelity with which you receive those holy words ; 
 and as they were written expressly to make you 
 wise unto salvation, no inferior purpose must dis- 
 tract your attention from this. 
 
 You will therefore always have in view two 
 objects : to understand the book, and to apply it 
 to your own heart and character. 
 
 The study of the Bible, for the purpose of un- 
 derstanding it, is an arduous labor. Dr. Johnson 
 said of the New Testament, ** It is the most diffi- 
 cult book in the world, for which the labor of a 
 life is required." No book requires greater and 
 more various aid. Its thorough interpretation is 
 a science by itself; and you must ask of those, in 
 whose judgment you confide, to point out the re- 
 quisite helps for this interesting investigation ; to 
 enable you to reach the pure text, and arrive at 
 the meaning of every passage as it lay in the mind 
 of the writer. Recollect that a passage standing 
 by itself may bear a very good meaning, which 
 yet was not the meaning designed ; and make it 
 a sacred rule, not to receive or quote it in any 
 other sense than that which belongs to it in its 
 original place. The neglect of this rule has oc- 
 casioned much misinterpretation and misapplica- 
 tion of scripture ; and some passages have come 
 to be familiarly understood and cited in senses 
 altogether foreign from their proper import. This 
 
43 
 
 is a perversion; and it is an immense evil to 
 have wrong ideas thus fastened upon the language 
 of the sacred writers. 
 
 And be not afraid of examining the text scru- 
 pulously, and employing the utmost energy of 
 your mind in discovering and determining its 
 true sense. It is a duty to do this. You can 
 decide between opposing and possible interpreta- 
 tions only by applying your own mind to judge 
 between them ; and the more keenly, impartially, 
 and fearlessly you proceed, the greater the pro- 
 bability that your decision will be correct. On 
 this point some persons greatly err. They seize 
 on the first meaning which presents itself to their 
 minds, or has been presented by another, and ab- 
 solutely abide by it ; they refuse to investigate 
 further, lest they should be guilty of irreverently 
 trying the divine word by their own fallible reason. 
 Indulge no such weakness as this. Never indeed 
 be guilty for a moment of the insane folly and sin 
 of disputing the authority of revelation, or setting 
 up your reason as a superior light and safer guide. 
 But in deciding upon the meaning of scripture, 
 you cannot use your intellectual powers too much 
 or too acutely. Use them constantly, coolly, im- 
 partially, with the best aid you can obtain from 
 human authors, and then you may rest satisfied 
 that you have done your duty, — have done all 
 which you could do toward learning the truth ; 
 
49 
 
 and if you havo accon^.panied it with prayer for a 
 blessing from the Source of truth and wisdom, you 
 cannot have failed, in any essential point, to as- 
 certain the will of God. 
 
 But there is another object, — the application 
 of scripture to the forming of the heart and cha- 
 racter. This is a higher object than the other, 
 and may be eflected in cases where very little of 
 rigid scrutiny can be made into the dark places 
 of the divine word. Blessed be God, it is not ne- 
 cessary in order to salvation, that one should com- 
 prehend all the things hard to be understood, or 
 be able to follow out the train of reasoning in 
 every Epistle, and restore the text in every cor- 
 ruption. Do all this as much as you can. But 
 when you read, as it were, for your life; when 
 you take the Bible to your closet, to be the help 
 and the solitary witness of your prayers ; when 
 you take it up as a lamp wdiich you are to hold to 
 your heart for the purpose of searching into its 
 true state, that you may purify and perfect it; — 
 then, put from your mind all thoughts of differ- 
 ing interpretations and various readings, and the 
 perplexities of criticism and translation. You 
 have only to do with what is spiritual and practi- 
 cal. You are no more a scholar, seeking for in- 
 tellectual guidance, but a sinful and accountable 
 creature asking for help in duty and deliverance 
 from an evil world and an evil heart. Read, there- 
 
 F 
 
50 
 
 fore, as if on your knees. Make your heart feel 
 and respond to every sentiment. Apply to your- 
 self with rigor every precept and warning ; and 
 according to the character of the passage, let your 
 mind glow with fervor and be uplifted in holy 
 adoration and devout gratitude, or be thrilled and 
 humbled by the representations of infinite purity 
 and justice, or melted and borne away by the 
 tones of tender love and long-sufl!'ering grace. Suf- 
 fer yourself to read nothing coldly, when you read 
 for spiritual improvement. You might as law- 
 fully pray coldly. Therefore let your reading be 
 like your prayers,— done with all your heart. 
 And be sensible that it is better to go over one 
 short passage many times, till you fully grasp its 
 sentiment and grow warm with it, than to run 
 over hastily and unfeelingly many chapters. 
 
 You are not to suppose, from what has been 
 said, that you are altogether to separate these two 
 modes of reading the Scriptures. On the con- 
 trary, it will greatly aid you in unraveling their 
 true meaning, to carry to their interpretation a 
 devout mind, wakeful to the impression of their 
 moral beauty, and in sympathy with their divine 
 origin; since nothing is truer than this, — tbat a 
 study is rendered easy by the interest of the af- 
 fections in it, and that difficulties disappearbefore 
 the excitement of feeling. And on the other hand, 
 when 50U are reading expressly for improvement 
 
51 
 
 and devotion, you will recur, without effort, and 
 consequently without interruption, to the results 
 of your cooler inquiry, and spontaneously make 
 use of the interpretations which your critical 
 scrutiny has proved to be just. 
 
 The cautions thus briefly sketched are import- 
 ant for two reasons ; one, that there is a tendency 
 in him who has become interested in the critical 
 examination of the sacred writings, to continue 
 to read them critically and with a principal re- 
 gard to their elucidation, when he ought to be im- 
 bibing their spirit ; and the other, that the per- 
 ception of this tendency has been an apology to 
 many for not engaging in such inquiries at all ; 
 They esteem it better to go on with their crude, 
 unconnected, and undigested knowledge, whiob 
 in many cases is only ignorance (for where they 
 have not inquired it is impossible they should 
 know), than to check the fervor of their religious 
 feelings, as they fancy must inevitably be done, 
 by accurate study. But this is a melancholy error 
 It reminds one of the old pretence, that ignorance 
 is the mother of devotion. How can it be ration- 
 ally supposed, that a careful inquiry concerning 
 the history, the text, and the signification of the 
 Bible, should necessarily alienate the mind from 
 the true spirit of the Bible ? I say necessarily, 
 because the tendency alluded to undoubtedly 
 exists ; and, however it may be accounted for, i\ 
 
52 
 
 evidently needs to be cautiously guarded against. 
 This may be done. Do it then, as you value the 
 warmth and fervor of your soul. Do it, always 
 and perseveringly, by daily reading in that frame 
 of spiritual self-application which I have recom- 
 mended. Thus you will avoid the danger ; and 
 while you arrive at enlarged views of the nature, 
 contents, history, and purposes of these sacred 
 records, you will retain and increase the suscep- 
 tibility of your heart to all their representations 
 of duty and heaven. 
 
 In regard to the choice of other books, it would 
 take up too much room to enter into all the many 
 considerations which might be started. Let it be 
 sufficient to say in general, that if you would form 
 a religious character, you are always to have in 
 view the two objects already named, — religious 
 knowledge and moral improvement. Your books 
 therefore will belong to one or the other of these 
 two departments ; and it would be v/eil to have 
 one of each kind always lying by you in the course 
 of being read. That is, be at all times engaged 
 with two books ; one of a moral and devotional 
 character, to keep your frame of mind right, and 
 your feelings in harmony with eternal truth ; the 
 other, of an instructive character, to enlarge your 
 knowledge, and extend your ideas concerning 
 God, and man, and truth. Then you will never 
 he at a loss for occupation. You will not fritter 
 
58 
 
 away precious hours in ' wondering wliat you bad 
 better tlo. ' 
 
 To the better accomplishment of this purpose, 
 it will be well to obtain of your minister, or some 
 competent friend, a list of selected books, in the 
 order in which they should be read. I earnestly 
 recommend this. Many persons read at random, 
 without selection, whatever they may accident- 
 xjlly meet with. They make no inquiry whether 
 a book be good or bad, worth perusal or not ; but 
 because it lies in their way, or has been read by 
 some friend, they read it. How many miserable 
 volumes of trash are thus devoured ! and that too 
 by persons, who would be alarmed at the suspicion 
 that they are prodigally throwing away their time, 
 But they do not pursue the same random course 
 in other matters. They do not choose their food 
 or clothing of the first thing which accidentally 
 presents itself. They take pains, they spend time, 
 they inquire, compare, judge, and select only 
 what they deliberately perceive to be best. And 
 when we treat the body thus, shall we have no 
 care for the mind ? Shall we leave it to be fed by 
 any food which chance may bring it, and thus ex- 
 pose it to the risk of pernicious nourishment, to 
 the hazard of being made feeble, sickly, and cor- 
 rupt? I adjure you, fall not into this too common 
 thoughtlessness. Do not take it for granted, that, 
 because it is a printed book, therefore it must be 
 F 2 
 
5h 
 
 worth reading. Get a(]\iee upon the sul>jeet, and 
 read systematically ; rcilecting, that your object 
 is not amusement, but impro'. ement, — improve- 
 ment of your religious nature ; and that you have 
 no more right to run the hazard of poisoning it 
 through a negligent selection of its nutriment, 
 than to destroy your body by similar menus. The 
 religious culture of your mind is a most respon- 
 sible charge ; it is to be effected, in no small de- 
 gree, by the exercise and guidance it shall receive 
 from books ; and how will you lift up your head, 
 when the Judge shall inquire concerning your 
 manner of preparing it for his kingdom, if you 
 have provided for its immort:il appetite nothing 
 but unarranged and unselected trash, when stores 
 of the choicest kind were profusely spread before 
 you ? 
 
 It does not fall within my plan to pursue this 
 subject further, or to treat the many questions 
 which may arise on the choice of books, and habits 
 of reading, in general. It may be said in few 
 words, that no work of truth and science, or of 
 elegance and taste, which does not tend to corrupt 
 the morals or create a disrelish for serious 
 thought, need be prohibited to a religious man. 
 Within the limits of this restriction he may freely 
 range. Let him only remember, that even the 
 employment of reading may become m.ere idleness 
 and wastefulness ; and that a man may deciile re- 
 

 spccting his actual principles nr.d character ly 
 the character of the hooks to wliich he is most at- 
 tached. He must therefore watch and guard his 
 taste. Then he may find it in his power to cause 
 every hour thus spent to minister to the growth 
 of his best attainments. 
 
 II. Meditation. 
 
 This is a great and essential means of improve- 
 ment. It is essential to self-examination and 
 self-knowledge, without which the hope of pro- 
 cress and of virtue is vain. No one can know his 
 own character, or be aware of the dispositions, 
 feelings, and motives by which he is actuated, 
 except by means of deep and searching reflection. 
 In the crowd of business and the hurry of the 
 world, we are apt to rush on v/ithout weighing, 
 as we should, the considerations which urge us; 
 we are liable to neglect that close inspection of 
 ourselves, and that careful reference of our con- 
 duct to the unerring standard of right, which are 
 requisite both to our knowing where we are, and 
 to our keeping in the right way. It is necessary 
 that we sometimes pause and look around us, and 
 consider our ways ; that we take observation of 
 the course we are running, and the various influ- 
 ences to which we are subjected, and be sure that 
 we are not driven or drifted from the direction 
 in which we ought to be proceeding. Without 
 this there is no safety. 
 
5(i 
 
 Meditation, too, is necessary in order to the di- 
 gesting of religious truth, making familiar what 
 we have learned, and incorporating it with our 
 own minds. We cannot even retain it in our me- 
 mories, much less can we be fully sensible of its 
 power and worth, except through the habit of re- 
 flecting upon it. We cannot have it ready at 
 command, so as to defend it when assailed, or 
 state it when inquired after, or apply it in the 
 emergencies of life, unless it be familiar to us by 
 habitual meditation. So that even reading loses 
 its value if unaccompanied by reflection. The 
 obligations and motives of duty, the promises, 
 hopes, and prospects of the Christian, the great 
 interests and permanent realites by which he is 
 to be actuated, are not visibly and tangibly pre- 
 sent to him, like the scenes of his passing life ; 
 and they must be made spiritually present to his 
 apprehension and thought, by deliberate medita- 
 tion, if he would be guided and swayed by them. 
 Indeed, without this, he must be without consider- 
 ation or devotion ; ignorant of the actual state of 
 his character, and in constant danger of falling a 
 sacrifice to the unfriendly influences of the world. 
 
 In attempting, therefore, the acquisition of a 
 religious character, it is important that you main- 
 tain an habitual though tfulness of mind. It has 
 been said, and with perfect truth, that no man 
 pursues any great interest of any kind, in which 
 
51 
 
 important consequences arc at stake, witliout a 
 profound and settled seriousness of mind ; and 
 that a man of really frivolous disposition, never 
 accomplishes any thing valuable. How especially 
 true must this be, in regard to the great interests 
 of religion and eternity ! Hov/ can you hope to 
 make progress in that perplexing and difficult 
 work, the establishment of a religious character, 
 the attainment of the great Christian accomplish- 
 ments, without a fixed and habitual thoughtful- 
 nes3 ? — a thoughtfulness, which never forgets the 
 vastness and responsibility of the work assigned 
 to man, nor loses the consciousness of a relation 
 to more glorious beings than are found upon earth. 
 This will be a habit, something more than an oc- 
 casional musing and reveries, at set times, when 
 he shall force himself to the task, as the Catliolic 
 goes to confession. It will be the uniform con- 
 dition of his mind ; as much so as solicitude to 
 the merchant, who has great treasures exposed to 
 the uncertainties of the ocean and the foe ; — a so- 
 licitude, not gloomy, or unsocial, or morose, but 
 thoughtful ; so that nothing shall be done incon- 
 siderately, or without adverting (o the bearing it 
 may have on his character and fiaal prospects. 
 
 Then, besides this general state of mind, there 
 must be, as I have said, allotted periods of ex- 
 press meditation. As the precept respecting de- 
 votion is, * Pray without ceasing,' and yet set 
 
58 
 
 times of prayer are necessary ; so also, while we 
 say, * Be always thoughtful,' we must add, that 
 particular seasons are necessary on purpose for 
 meditation. You must set apart certain times 
 for reflection, when you shall deliberately sit 
 down and survey with keen scrutiny yourself, 
 your condition, your past life, and the prospect 
 before you ; inquire into the state of your religi- 
 ous knowledge and personal attainments ; and 
 strengthen your sense of responsibility and pur- 
 poses of duty, by dwelling on the attributes and 
 government of God, the ways of his providence, 
 the revelations of his word, the requisitions of 
 his will, the glory of his kingdom, and all the af- 
 fecting truths and promises which the gospel dis- 
 plays. These are to be subjects of distinct and 
 profound consideration, till your mind becomes 
 imbued with them, and until filled and inspired 
 by the spiritual contemplation, you are in a man- 
 ner * changed into the same image as by the spirit 
 of the Lord.' The proper season for this, is the 
 season of your daily devotion ; when, having shut 
 out the world, and sought the nearer presence of 
 God, your mind is prepared to work fervently. 
 Then, contemplation, aided by prayer, ascends to 
 heights which it could never reach alone ; and 
 sometimes, whether in the body or out of the body 
 it can hardly tell, soars, as it were, to the third 
 heaven, and enjoys a revelation to which, at other 
 hours, it is a stranger. 
 
59 
 
 This, however, is an excitement of mind which 
 is rarely to be expected. Those seasons are, 'few 
 as angels' visits,' which lift the spirit to any thing 
 like ecstacy. They are glimpses of heaven, which 
 the sonl, in its present tabernacle, can seldom 
 catch, only frequently enough to afford a brief 
 foretaste of that bliss to which it shall hereafter 
 arrive. Its ordinary musings are less ethereal ; 
 happy, undoubtedly, though oftentimes clouded 
 by feelings of sadness and doubt, and by a sense 
 of unworthiness and sin. But however mixed 
 they may be, they are always salutary. If sad 
 and disheartening, they lead to more vigilant self- 
 examination, that we may discover their cause, 
 and thus rekindle the watchlight that is so es- 
 sential to right progress. If serene and joyous, 
 they are a present earnest of the peace which is 
 assured to the righteous, and the joy of heart 
 which is one of the genuine fruits of the spirit. 
 Be not, therefore, troubled or cast down (indeed 
 never be cast down, so long as you can say to 
 your soul. Trust in God), be not, I say, disquiet- 
 ed or cast down, because of the inequalities of 
 feeling with which you enter and leave your clo- 
 set, and the changes from brightness to gloom, 
 from clearness to obscurity, which often pass 
 over your mind. This, alas, is the inheritance 
 of our frail nature. An equal vigor of thought, 
 clearness of apprehension, force of imagination, 
 
60 
 
 ferror of devotion, always perceiving, feeling, 
 adoring, with the same vividness and satisfaction, 
 are to be our portion in the vrorld of spirits. Here 
 we see all things, * as in a glass, darkly ;' there 
 we shall see ' face to face.' Here, the truths we 
 rejoice in are too often like the images of absent 
 friends, which we strive in vain to bring brightly 
 before the eye of onr minds ; they are shadowy, 
 indistinct, and Geetir.g. Bat there, they will be 
 like our friends themselves, always present in 
 their own foil form and beauty, to dwell in the 
 mind unfadingly and constitute its bliss. Be sa- 
 tisfied, then, if you sometimes arrive in your me- 
 ditations at that glow of elevated enjoyment which 
 you desire. What you are rather to seek for, is, 
 a calm and composed state of affections, an equani- 
 mity of spirit, a serenity of temper; — like the 
 quiet which an affectionate child experiences in 
 the circle of it5 parents and brothers, where it is 
 not excited to ecstacy by the thought of it3 fa- 
 ther s goodness, but lives beneath it in a state of 
 equal and affectionate trust. Like this should be 
 the habitual experience of the Christian ; and if 
 it be thus with you, let not occasional dulness or 
 darkness, coming over your spirit in its religious 
 hours, dishearten or distress you. 
 
 This I say, because many persons of truly de- 
 vout habits have unquestionably suffered much 
 from this cause. In the natural fluctuations of 
 
Gl 
 
 the animal spirits, or the nervous system, or the 
 bodily health, they sometimes find themselves 
 cold at heart, and seemingly insensible to reli- 
 gious considerations. It seems to them that their 
 hearts have waxed gross, that their eyes are closed, 
 and their ears become dull of hearing. In vain 
 do they read and think ; they oannot arouse them- 
 selves to any thing like a * realizing sense * of 
 these great objects ; but regard with a stupid un- 
 concern what at other times has been the source 
 of their chief enjoyment. But let the humble and 
 timid believer be of good cheer. This is not al- 
 ways a sign of guilt, or of desertion by God. It 
 may be traced to the original and unavoidable im- 
 perfection of human nature ; it is to be lamented 
 as such, but not to be repented of as sin ; and one 
 may not expect to be relieved from it, till the 
 soul is freed from the body. Let him watch the 
 course of his mind, and he will find the same ine- 
 quality of feeling to exist upon other subjects. 
 He does not at all times take an equal interest in 
 his ordinary concerns, nor does he at all times 
 feel the highest warmth of affection toward his 
 parent, friend, or child. Let him watch others, 
 and he will discover the same variations in them. 
 They will confess it to be so. The oldest and 
 most established Christians will describe them- 
 selves to have passed their whole pilgrimage in 
 this state of fluctuation. Read the private jour- 
 
 G 
 
6S 
 
 nals of distinguished believers, and you find in 
 them frequent complaints of lukewarmness, in- 
 difference, and deadness of heart. They mourn 
 over it, they bewail it, they strive against it, and 
 yet it adheres to them as long as they live. It is 
 not, therefore, your peculiar sin, but a common 
 infirmity. Regard it in this light ; and do not 
 let it destroy your peace of mind, or lead you to 
 overlook the rational evidence that your heart is 
 right with God. 
 
 But also, on the other hand, — for the Chris- 
 tian's path is hedged in with dangers on every 
 side, and in trying to escape from one it is easy to 
 rush into another, — take heed that you do not un- 
 warrantably apply this consolation to yourself, 
 and make this excuse in cases in which you really 
 deserve blame. Do not let this apology, which 
 is designed only for the comfort of the humble 
 and watchful, be used by you as a'cover for neg- 
 ligence and sinful self-confidence. Remember 
 that your unsatisfactory state of religious sensi- 
 bility may be possibly your own fault ; and you 
 are not to presume that it is otherwise, until you 
 have faithfully searched and tried. Have you 
 not, for a time, been unreasonably devoted to 
 amusement, or engrossed by unnecessary cares, 
 so as to have neglected the watching of your 
 heart? Have you not for a season been thouglit- 
 less, light-minded, frivolous, and careless of that 
 
 
63 
 
 devout reverence to God, by which you should 
 always be actuated ? Have you not engaged in 
 some questionable undertaking, or allowed your- 
 self in sloth or self-indulgence, or cherished ill 
 feelings toward others, or permitted your temper 
 to be kept irritated by some unimportant vexa- 
 tions, or let your imagination run loose among 
 forbidden desires ? Ask yourself such questions, 
 and perhaps in the nature of your recent occupa- 
 tions you may detect the cause of your present 
 listlessness. If so, change the general turn of 
 your life. In the words of Cowper's hymn, it is 
 only *A closer walk with God,' which can bring 
 back * the blessedness you once enjoyed,' Now 
 your heart is desolate and unsatisfied ; you find 
 in it ' an aching void, which God alone can fill ;' 
 and it is only by renewing your acquaintance with 
 him, that you can renew your peace. 
 
 But, after all, remember that you are to judge 
 of the real worth of these seasons, not by your en- 
 joyment of them as they pass, not by the luxury 
 or rapture of your contemplation, but by their ef- 
 fect upon your character and principles, by the 
 religious power you gain from them toward meet- 
 ing the duties and suflferings, the joys and sor- 
 rows, the temptations, trials, and conflicts of ac- 
 tual life. Meditation is a means of religion ; not 
 to be rested in as a final good, nor allowed to sa- 
 tisfy us, except so far as it imparts to the charac- 
 
64 
 
 ter a permanent impress of seriousness and duty, 
 and strengthens the principles of faith and self- 
 government. If it add daily vigor to your reso- 
 lutions, and secure order to your thoughts, se- 
 renity to your temper, and uprightness to your 
 life, then it has fulfilled its legitimate purpose. 
 If, on the other hand, it end in the reverie of the 
 hour, then, however fervent and exalted, it is, 
 comparatively speaking, worthless to yourself and 
 unacceptable to God. Its permanent influence 
 on the character is the true test of its value. 
 
 It is easy to see, therefore, that there are three 
 purposes which you have in view ; the cultivation 
 of a religious spirit, the scrutiny of your life and 
 character, the renewing of your good purposes. 
 
 By the first of these you are to insure the pre- 
 dominance of a spiritual frame of mind, a per- 
 petual, paramount interest in divine truth, and 
 its incorporation with the frame and constitution 
 of your soul ; so that you shall be continually en- 
 larging your apprehensions concerning God, his 
 providence, and his purposes, and at the same 
 time make them part of the very substance and 
 materials of your intellectual constitution, the 
 pervading and actuating motives of all your life. 
 
 By this means, religion becomes to the Chris- 
 tian, what the spirit of his profession is to the 
 soldier, the one present thought, motive, and im- 
 pulse, absorbing all others, and urging him to his 
 
65 
 
 one great object by its mastery over all other 
 thoughts, principles, and affections. The other 
 two purposes of meditation which I mentioned, 
 may be described as the surveying and burnish- 
 ing of the warrior's arms, in preparation for the 
 summons to actual combat ; or as the act of the 
 mariner in mid ocean, who every day lifts his in- 
 struments to the light of heaven, and consults his 
 charts and his books, that he may learn where he 
 is, and what has been his progress, and whether 
 any change must be made in his course, in order 
 to his reaching the intended haven. The warrior, 
 who should allow his arms to rust for want of a 
 little daily care, and the mariner who should be 
 shipwrecked from neglect of taking seasonable 
 observations, are emblems of the folly of the 
 man who presses on through life, without ever 
 pausing to scrutinize the principles on which he 
 acts, and rectify the errors he has committed. 
 
 This self-examination must be universal ; em- 
 bracing alike the conduct of your external life 
 and the habitual tenor of your mind. You must 
 survey the train of your thoughts, the temper ycu 
 have sustained, your deportment toward others, 
 your conversation, your employment, the use of 
 your time and of your wealth ; you must consider 
 by what sort of motives you are prevailingly guid- 
 ed, what is the probable effect of your example, 
 and whether you are doing all the good which 
 G2 
 
66 
 
 might be reasonably expected of you ; yo6 must 
 compare yourself with the example of Jesus Christ, 
 and measure your life by the laws of holy living 
 prescribed in his gospel. And in order that these 
 and other topics may all have their place in the 
 survey, it may not be amiss to keep them by you 
 on a written list. Cotton Mather adopted and 
 recommended the practice of assigning to such in- 
 quiries each its particular day of the week ; so 
 that every night might have its own topic of re- 
 flection, and every topic its due share of attention. 
 Others may find this a useful suggestion. 
 
 A renewal of your resolutions is to follow this 
 inquiry. Knowing where you are, and what you 
 need, you are to arrange your purposes according- 
 ly. It is a sad error of some to fancy that seeing 
 and acknowledging their faults is all which is re- 
 quired of them. They sit down and bewail them, 
 and in weeping and sorrow waste that energy of 
 mind which should have been exerted in amend- 
 ment. But it is surely far better, with manly 
 readiness to rise and act without a tear, than to 
 shed torrents of bitter water, and still go on as 
 before. Regret and remorse naturally express 
 themselves in weeping ; but repentance shows it- 
 self in action. It may begin in sorrow, but it ends 
 in reformation. And you have little reason to be 
 satisfied with your reflections and your penitence, 
 if they do not issue in prompt and resolute action. 
 
67 
 
 III. Prayer. 
 
 As there is no duty more frequently enjoined 
 in the New Testament by our Saviour and the 
 Apostles, so there is none which is a more indis- 
 pensable and efficacious means of religious im- 
 provement, than Prayer ; for which reason it de- 
 mands particular attention. 
 
 The practice of devotion is a sign of spiritual 
 life, and a means of preserving it. No one prays 
 heartily without some deep religious sentiment to 
 actuate him. This sentiment may be but occasion- 
 ally felt ; it may be transient in duration ; but 
 the exercise of it in acts of devotion tends to ren- 
 der it habitual and permanent, and its frequent 
 exercise causes the mind at length te exist always 
 in a devout posture. He who truly prays, feels, 
 during the act, a sense of God's presence, author- 
 ity, and love ; of his own obligations and un- 
 worthiness ; of his need of being better. He 
 feels grateful, humble, resigned, anxious for im- 
 provement. He who prays often, often has these 
 feelings, and by frequent repetition they become 
 customary and constant. And thus prayer oper- 
 ates as an active, steady, powerful means of Chris- 
 tian progress. 
 
 Indeed, nothing effectual is to be done with- 
 out it. That it is a chief duty, even natural rea- 
 son would persuade us. That it is a condition on 
 which divine blessings are bestowed, Christianity 
 
68 
 
 assures us. That it is a high gratification and en- 
 joyment, every one knows who has rightly engaged 
 in it. And that it is of all means of moral re- 
 straint and spiritual advancement the most effect- 
 ive, no one can doubt, who understands how pow- 
 erfully it stirs and agitates the strongest and most 
 active principles of man, and how complete is the 
 dominion which those principles have over his 
 character and conduct. All this is clear and suf- 
 ficient, without adding the assurance of the Sa- 
 viour, that it is effectual to draw down spiritual 
 aid from heaven. Add this, and the subject is 
 complete. It is, both naturally and by appoint- 
 ment, a chief duty of man ; from the nature of the 
 soul and the intercourse it opens with God, it is 
 the first enjoyment ; and through its own intrin- 
 sic power and the promise of Jesus, it is the most 
 effectual instrument of moral and spiritual cul- 
 ture. 
 
 Perhaps you have been accustomed to the per- 
 formance of this duty from your childhood. You 
 were early taught to repeat your prayers, morn- 
 ing and evening. Pains were taken to make you 
 understand the nature of the duty, and to give 
 you right impressions in performing it. Perhaps 
 you have retained these impressions, and have 
 continued to this time the practice of sincere de- 
 votion. On the other hand, you may have lost 
 those impressions and become neglectful of the 
 
09 
 
 duty. Or perhaps you are so unhappy as never 
 to have receivetl instruction on this head. You 
 have passed through childhood without the prac- 
 tice, and without the sentiment which should in- 
 spire it ; and now, when awakened to a sense of 
 your responsibility, you find yourself a stranger 
 to the mercy-seat. But however the case may be, 
 tlie sense of your religious wants now urges you 
 to devotion ; and you are anxious to make that 
 acquaintance with God, which alone can secure 
 you peace. How to perform the duty, how to 
 gain the satisfaction, how to reap the advantage, 
 are points upon which yon are anxious to obtain 
 direction. 
 
 First of all, let me urge upon you the import- 
 tance of a plan of customary seasons for your de- 
 votions. Have your settled appointments of time 
 and place, and iet nothing interfere with them. 
 Many would persuade you that this is too formal 
 that you should be left more at liberty ; that as you 
 are to pray always, it is quite needless to assign 
 any special season for the duty. And one may 
 conceive of a person having arrived at so high a 
 measure of spiritual attainment, that his thoughts 
 should be a perpetual worship, and retirement to 
 his closet would bring his mind no nearer to God. 
 But such is at best an infrequent case; at any 
 rate it is not yours, — you are a beginner ; it ne- 
 ver can be yours, except you use the requisite 
 
70 
 
 means of arriving at it ; and certainly among the 
 Surest means is the custom of setting apart stated 
 seasons for devotion. So that the very reason as- 
 signed for neglecting, becomes a strong reason for 
 observing them. You must feed the soul as you 
 do the body, furnishing it with suitable nourish- 
 ment at suitable intervals. You must keep its 
 armour bright and serviceable, as does the soldier 
 in human warfare, who examines and restores it 
 at a certain hour daily. If it were left to be done 
 at any convenient season, a thousand trifling en- 
 gagements might cause the work to be deferred 
 again and again, till irretrievable injury should 
 accrue. You have too many other engagements 
 and enticements daily and hourly occurring, to 
 make it safe for you to leave this to accidental 
 convenience or inclination. In order to secure 
 its performance, you must put it on the list of 
 your daily indispensable engagements; and as it 
 is part of your routine at certain hours to break- 
 fast and dine, and at certain hours to attend to 
 the concerns of your household and profession, so 
 also must it be, to retire at certain hours for re- 
 ligious worship. The wisdom and experience of 
 all the religious world insist on this ; and it would 
 not be necessary to state it so urgently, if it did 
 not seem to be a notion growing into favor with 
 some, that, as the spirit and not the form is the 
 essential thing, it is better not to be burdened 
 
71 
 
 with methods and rules, but simply to praj^ al- 
 ways; which, there is reason to fear, would in 
 practice be found a precept to pray never. 
 
 Assign to yourself, therefore, some convenient 
 hour, when you shall be secure from interruption, 
 and not hurried by the call of other business. If 
 you are much engaged in active affairs, you may 
 perhaps be unable to secure this, unless you rise 
 for the purpose in the morning, and sit up for it 
 at night. This then you must do. Deprive your« 
 self of a few moments' sleep, morning and even* 
 ing. And I may ask here, whether the multitude 
 of persons who excuse their inattention to religi- 
 ous exercises by their want of time, do not there- 
 by expose themselves to a suspicion of insinceri- 
 ty ? For if they were truly in earnest, it would 
 be a very little thing to retire to their chambers 
 fifteen minutes earlier, and to rise from their 
 beds fifteen minutes sooner. If they were aware 
 of the magnitude of the gain, the sacrifice would 
 seem insignificant. Nay, they might even per- 
 form the duty upon their beds ; there would be no 
 want of time then. And some, who from the mis- 
 fortune of poverty have no place to which they 
 can retire, being compelled to live at every mo- 
 ment in the company of others ; should learn to 
 feel that the bed is their closet ; that when lying 
 there, they can * pray to the Father who seeth in 
 secret'; and that they need make no complaint 
 
7^ 
 
 of want of opportunity, so long as tlieymay follow 
 the Psalmist, who said, * I remember thee on my 
 bed, and meditate on thee in the night-watches.' 
 Having then your stated times, if you would 
 make them in the highest measure profitable, ob- 
 serve the following rules. First of all, when the 
 hour has arrived, seek to excite in your mind a 
 sense of the divine presence, and of the greatness 
 of the act in which you are engaging. Summon 
 up the whole energy of your mind. Put all your 
 powers upon the stretch. Do not allow yourself 
 to utter a word, to use an expression thought- 
 lessly, nor without setting before yourself, in a 
 distinct form, its full meaning. Remember the 
 words of Ecclesiasticus : * When you glorify 
 the Lord, exalt him as much as you can ; for even 
 yet vi'ill he far exceed : and when you exalt him, 
 put forth all your strength, and be not weary ; 
 for you can never go far enough. ' Pour your 
 whole soul, the utmost intensity of your feelings, 
 into your words. One sentence uttered thus is 
 better than the cold repetition of an entire liturgy. 
 For this reason, let your prayer be preceded by 
 meditation. In this way, make an earnest effort 
 after a devout temper. While you thus muse, 
 the fire of your devotion will kindle, and then you 
 may speak with your tongue ; then you may 
 breathe out the adoring sentiments of praise and 
 thanksgiving, the holy aspirations after excellence 
 
73 
 
 and grace, the humble confessions of your con- 
 trite spirit, the glowing emotions of Christian 
 faith. As you proceed, you will probably find 
 yourself increasing in warmth and energy ; espe- 
 cially if you give way to the impulse of your feel- 
 ings, and do not check them by watching them 
 too closely. To do this chills the current of de- 
 votion, and changes your prayer from the simple 
 expressions of desire and affection, into an exer- 
 cise of mental philosophy. Wherefore, having 
 warmed your mind, give it free way, and let its 
 religious ardor flow on. But if, as will often be 
 the case, you find your thoughts wander and your 
 feelings cool, then pause, and by silent thought 
 bring back the mind to its duty ; and thus inter- 
 mix meditation with prayer, in such manner that 
 you shall never fall into the mechanical, unmean- 
 ing repetition of mere w^ords. 
 
 As your object is not to get through with a 
 certain task, but to pray devoutly, you will find 
 it well to vary your method according to circum- 
 stances, and not always adhere to the same mode. 
 I have sometimes suspected, that one cause of the 
 little efficacy of public worship may be the invari- 
 able method of conducting it ; whereby it is ren- 
 dered formal, monotonous, and deficient in ex- 
 citement. But however this may be, it is quite 
 certain that a similar unvaried routine would be 
 extremely injudicious in private devotion. In 
 
 H 
 
74 
 
 this respect a very considerable latitude is de- 
 sirable. You are not to consult the wants or the 
 convenience of others, but your own duty alone. 
 You may therefore have a single regard to what 
 shall suit the immediate temper and exigencies 
 ^f your own mind, without being bound by any 
 prescribed rule as to su1)ject, language, or posture. 
 You will always have by you the Bible to quick- 
 en and guide you. But sometimes the first verse 
 you read may lead you to feelings, thoughts, and 
 prayers, which shall so occupy your soul that you 
 will read no more. And it is better to read but 
 one verse, which thus influences your whole spiri- 
 tual nature, than to read chapters in the unhced- 
 ful way that is too often practised. At another 
 time, however, the reading of the Scriptures may 
 be your principal occupation, and your less ex- 
 cited mind may not flow beyond a short ejacula- 
 tion at the close of each verse. Sometimes you 
 may find it well to assist yourself by a printed or 
 written form ; always taking care, however, to 
 leave it where any sentiment or feeling arises 
 within you which is not there expressed. The 
 main advantage of a form in private is, to suggest 
 thoughts, and stimulate our mJnds ; as soon as it 
 has done this, we sliould lay it down, and go on 
 of ourselves. Then presently, if we find it 
 necessary, we may again recur to the form, and 
 make the whole exercise, if \\c please, an alter- 
 
75 
 
 nalc use of the form and of our own language. In 
 all this \vc must be guided by the occasion. 
 
 Similar varieties may be allowed in regard to 
 the subjects of our devotions. There are some 
 great and leading topics of adoration and suppli - 
 cation, which may at no time be forgotten or 
 omitted. But it cannot be necessary in every 
 prayer to go over the whole field of devotional 
 sentiment. It is best that we confine ourselves 
 principally to those which are most immediately 
 interesting at the time, and seek to render our 
 present circumstances, fortunes, failings, and 
 prospects the nourishment of our devotion. The 
 temptations of our peculiar lot, our recent trials 
 of temper, fortitude, and faith, the dealings of 
 Providence with our family and friends, the ex- 
 posure, wants, and improvement of those most 
 dear to us, these, as they are at other moments of 
 the greatest concern to us, should be the objects 
 upon which we should, first of all, seek the bless- 
 ing of God. This it is to connect every thing 
 with religion ; in this way we shall avoid the 
 error, into v/hich some have fallen, of making re- 
 ligion a wholly independent existence, with no 
 reference to the ordinary duties of active life, and 
 no bearing on its common concerns, and of course 
 exercising no influence upon them. Such per- 
 sons have exhibited the strange spectacle of two 
 contradictory characters in one man, the one ap- 
 
76 
 
 parently devout, the other immoral. But the con- 
 sistent Christian will never separate his religion 
 from his life, nor his life from his religion. He 
 will seek to incorporate them most intimately with 
 each other. And this he will effect, in no small 
 degree, by making his daily prayers, not the ex- 
 pression of general principles, and indefinite con- 
 fession, the recitation of articles of faith, or de- 
 claration of vague desires after holiness ; but the 
 expression of those sentiments which belong to his 
 peculiar condition, and a perpetual reference to 
 his personal character and circumstances. It is 
 for these and concerning these that he will pray ; 
 and therefore his prayers will vary as these do. 
 
 So much, in a general way, respecting the sub- 
 jects of private devotion. Next we may say a 
 few words respecting the posture. This need not 
 be invariably the same. Many have laid stress 
 upon it ; but it seems to me there is a certain free- 
 dom to be allowed in this particular to those who 
 are invited * to come boldly to the throne of grace.' 
 Provided we secure the right state of the heart, 
 it can matter little what the attitude of the body 
 may be. There are times when the lowest pros- 
 tration seems best to express and to promote the 
 sentiment of lowly adoration and broken-hearted 
 humiliation in which the worshipper supplicates 
 his Father. But again, in a different tone of spirit, 
 he is prompted to stand erect, and lift up his head 
 
77 
 
 raid bands, as an attitude best corresponding to tbe 
 elevated sentiments by wbich lie is filled. Wbil« 
 sometimes li© feels tliat in walking to and fro, or 
 sitting witb bis b«ad leaning upon bis bands, be 
 can best summon bis mind to its duty of spiritual 
 worsbip. Cecil says tbat bis oratory was a little 
 walk in tbe corner of bis cbamber, wbere be paced 
 backward and forward as be prayed. Otbers bave 
 been able to be devout only on tbeir knees. What 
 I would briefly urge is, that you be not scrupu- 
 lous on tbis bead. Allow yourself in any mode. 
 Try various modes. Adopt from time to time, 
 that wliicb best cultivates and encourages the 
 right tone of feeling. At tlic same time you will 
 probably find some truth in the remark, that the 
 adoption of a suitable posture aids the adoption of 
 a suitable frame of mind ; tiiat the expression of 
 reverence in the attitude conveys a feeling of 
 reverence to the spirit; for which reason it will 
 be generally best to assume the posture most as» 
 sociated with the sentiments of devotion, and de- 
 part from it only wjien the change may be favor- 
 able to engagedncss and fervor of mind. The 
 soul may be as truly prostrated when you stand, 
 or walk, or ride, or work, or lie in your bed, as 
 when you kneel before the altar. 
 
 Neither be too scrupulous concerning tbe use 
 of your lips. It is oftentimes as well, or better, 
 to pray mentally, without uttering a sound. Yet 
 h2 
 
73 
 
 at the same time there is clanger, if this become 
 our practice, that it will end in turning prayer 
 into meditation, and that our hours of devotion 
 will become hours of musing and reverie. This 
 would be injurious ; and therefore we should com- 
 monly use articulate language. Our thoughts are 
 so much associated with words, and words with 
 their sounds, that it is not easy to think connect- 
 edly and profitably without the use of speech. It 
 is well, as I have before said, to muse for a time ; 
 but when, after musing, the fire is kindled within 
 us, as the Psalmist expresses it, then we should 
 * speak v/ith our tongues. ' We shall find this an 
 essential aid in rendering our sentiments and 
 frain of thought distinct to ourselves ; and in so 
 impressing them on our memories that we shall 
 be able to employ them afteiward for our guid- 
 ance and comfort. Good sentiments, which mere- 
 ly pass through the mind but are not put into 
 words, are apt to leave no trace behind them ; 
 and he who should habitually indulge himself in 
 thinking his prayers instead of expressing them, 
 would find it extremely difficult to say what he 
 had prayed for, or to turn to any account in com- 
 mon life the employment of his sacred hours. 
 
 Meditation is, in its nature, an act very dis- 
 tinct from prayer; and must be very distinct in 
 its eff*ects. Some effects may be common to the 
 two ; but much of the peculiar and the happiest 
 
79 
 
 influence of devotion on the character must be 
 lost to the man who allows musing to take the 
 place of prayer. It is one thing to contemplate 
 a blessing and desire it; quite another to ask for 
 it. The latter may require a very diflerent ten 
 per of mind from the former ; and it is plain ♦hat 
 th« promise of God is given to those who ask, not 
 to those who desire ; to those who employ peti- 
 tion, not those who are content with contempla- 
 tion. Therefore arrange your thoughts in words ; 
 and generally give them a distinct utterance in 
 sound ; pausing occasionally for reflection, and 
 being certain that you do not employ words only, 
 but that the thoughts which they express are 
 actually in your mind. 
 
 In regard to the choice of words, be not too 
 anxious. Take those which express your mean- 
 ing, without regard to their elegance or eloquence. 
 You will naturally fall into language borrowed 
 from the Scriptures, and that is always good and 
 appropriate. Only take heed that you do not use 
 it mechanically, and without due consideration of 
 its significance. But when you do not use the 
 terms of scripture, take those which express what 
 you mean, and consider nothing further. I would 
 lay the more stress upon this, because some per- 
 sons uctually plead as an excuse for the neglect 
 of this duty, that they have no command of lan- 
 guage, and cannot readily find correct and proper 
 
80 
 
 Vv'ords. This would be a very good reason for not 
 attempting to pray in public ; and it were to be 
 wished that some, who are forward to exhibit 
 themselves in this act, would consider it more 
 seriously. It is an injury to religion, when he, 
 who speaks to God in the public assembly, or the 
 circle of social worship, does it in rude, hesitatingi 
 confused, inappropriate, or ungranimatical lan- 
 guage. But in private, when you are simply to 
 pour out your heart, and have no witness but 
 Heaven, allow yourself to put aside all solicitude 
 on this head. Speak as you feel, and what you 
 feel ; only taking care that your feelings are right, 
 and that you know what they are. Alas, you w'ill 
 often find it a task difficult enough to regulate 
 your feelings, govern your thoughts, repress wan- 
 dering desires, keep out vain images, and bring 
 your soul to a proper attitude of reverence and 
 love, without the added embarrassment of ar- 
 ranging words by the rules of rhetoric and taste. 
 This is an occupation which interferes with tlio 
 spirituality of the duty you are performing. I be- 
 seech you to disregard it altogether. 
 
 As respects times and seasons, it may be cor- 
 sidered as a salutary rule, that it is better to pray 
 often than long. There are times undoubtedly, 
 when the mind is glowing and the heart full, that 
 the exercise may be advantageously continued 
 through a long period, and the disciple, like his 
 
81 
 
 Master, may spend the whole night in prayer. It 
 would be a pity to check the current when it flows 
 thus spontaneously, or to lose the luxury of such 
 a season. There may be seasons, too, when duty 
 and improvement shall seem to demand an extra- 
 ordinary continuance in devotion. I do not, there- 
 fore, recommend that you should limit yourself to 
 a certain stinted number of minutes, and always 
 cease your labor at the stroke of the clock. But, 
 as a general rule, do not covet long prayers ; ra- 
 ther multiply their number than increase their 
 length. This is the rule of Christ ; who insists 
 that we pray often and always, hut that we do not 
 pray long. A most wise regulation. For the 
 mind is easily wearied by a long exercise, and is 
 likely to return to it slowly and reluctantly ; and 
 in the interval, it is liable to go back, like the 
 swinging pendulum, into a directly opposite state. 
 From which cause it may too readily happen, that 
 the extended devotions of the morning shall ex^ 
 haust the attention of the mind and produce reli- 
 gious listlessness during the day. Whereas a 
 shorter act of worship, which should excite with- 
 out exhausting, which should kindle the fire, but 
 not burn it out, would leave a glow upon the feel- 
 ings, that would abide for hours, and prompt to 
 holy thoughts and spontaneous acts of worship at 
 short intervals throughout the day. In this man- 
 ner, the great object of kejepmg up a religious 
 
82 
 
 wakefulness and sensibility is with greater cer- 
 tainty obtained, and the whole current of life more 
 surely colored by the infusion of religious senti- 
 ment. 
 
 Let this, therefore, be your method. Accus- 
 tom yourself to what is called cjaculatory prayer ; 
 that is, to very frequent petitions and thanksgiv- 
 ings, bursting out from your soul at all times and 
 wherever you may be. Walk with God, as you 
 would journey with an intimate friend ; not satis- 
 fied to make formal addresses to him at stated 
 seasons, but turning to him in brief and familiar 
 speech, whenever opportunity ofl'ers, or occasion 
 or feeling prompts. Kemcmber, that ceremoni- 
 ous addresses are appointed, and are chiefly ne- 
 cessary on social and ceremonious occasions, when 
 a company of men is together and many minds 
 are to act at once. Tlicy can act and be acted 
 upon simultaneously in no other way ; and there- 
 fore, in civil and state affairs, as well as in reli- 
 gious, this method is in use. But when we come to 
 more private, domestic, confidential intercourse, 
 we abandon these formal and complimentary ar- 
 rangements, and find it most natural and happy 
 to do as occasion prompts in a free and unrestrain- 
 ed style of conduct and of speech. Just so it 
 should be in our more private and confidential 
 communion with the great Father of our spirits. 
 The more it is unembarrassed by precise forms 
 
S3 
 
 and ccremonioii.s nppcndagcs, and left to the 
 promptings of the feelings and of the moment, the 
 more appropriate is it to our title of * children,' 
 and the greater is the felicity which it furnishes. 
 
 It has of course been implied in the preceding 
 remarks, that all is to be done in the spirit of de- 
 votion. In wliat manner this may be effected, it 
 is necessary to state more distinctly ; and the rules 
 to be given for this end will sufficiently explain 
 in what that spirit consists. 
 
 First, then, the genuine, efTectual prayer is the 
 prayer of Faith ; not of words, not of form ; not 
 an exercise of the understanding, reasoning on 
 the attributes and dispensations of God, and ut- 
 tering its judgments on duty ; but an address to 
 him, accompanied by a confident persuasion that 
 he hears and regards. * He that cometh to God,' 
 says the Apostle, * must believe that he is, and 
 that he is a re warder of them that diligently seek 
 him.' Of this there must be no doubt on the 
 mind. You must realize that you are actually 
 speaking to him, and he listening to you, as truly 
 as when you address yourself to a visible mortal ; 
 and you must have as real a conviction that some- 
 thing depends on the act, and as real a desire to 
 receive what you ask for, as when you make are- 
 quest for some important favor to a human friend. 
 If you doubt, your prayer is weak and inefficaci- 
 ous. 'Ask in faith,' says James, ' nothing waver- 
 
84 
 
 ing ; for he that wavereth, is like a wave of the sea, 
 driven with the wind and tossed.' His uncertain 
 and fluctuating mind wants stability, and canqot 
 receive a blessing. Therefore it is added, * Let 
 not that man think that he shall obtain anything 
 from the Lord.' May we not suppose, that much 
 of the dissatisfaction attendant on our prayers, 
 and much of their unfruitfulness, is owing to the 
 doubtful, hesitating state of mind, in which they 
 are offered ? And v/liat can be more miserably 
 destructive of all energy and interest in the em- 
 ployment ? If you doubt whether you shall be 
 heard, you will pray timidly and coldly, without 
 courage or spirit. If your prayers are thus life- 
 less, yonr conduct will be so too, and all spiritual 
 savor will fade away from your life. Do not, 
 then, allow in yourself this doubtfulness of tem- 
 per. The most extravagant fanaticism, which 
 sees a visible light descending as it prays, and 
 finds an answer in presentiments and dreams, is 
 not more mistaken, and is far more happy. Give 
 yourself up to the assurance, that they who ask 
 shall be heard, and go ' boldly to the throne of 
 grace.' Jesus, by his invitations and doctrine, 
 has given you a right to this confidence ; and it is 
 only in the exercise of it, humbly but firmly, that 
 you may * cast out the fear which hath torment.' 
 Next, your prayer must be fervent; that is, 
 your affections must be engaged and interested in 
 
85 
 
 it. You must not barely, as a reasoning philo- 
 sopher, or well instructed pupil, declare what 
 you coolly judge to be right, and assert that man 
 in his present relations ought to seek and do what 
 is right, and that God as the Father and Governor 
 should be adored and obeyed, (which is the tenor 
 of the devotional exercises one sometimes hears) ; 
 but you must set yourself actually to do these 
 things. You can only be said to pray, when the 
 sentiment you utter springs from your heart ; and 
 rising above all the arguments and persuasions of 
 the wise, you pour out your feelings, as a little 
 child confides its thoughts to a parent's bosom ; 
 thinking only of your own dependence and need, 
 and of God's ability and readiness to succor you, 
 and earnestly aspiring after that purity and piety, 
 which you feel to constitute the excellence and 
 bliss of man. When this fervent glow is upon 
 your mind, you pray in the spirit. Seek for it. 
 Be not content without it. 
 
 In the next place, do not allow yourself to grow 
 weary. Persevere ; however ill-satisfied, how- 
 ever discouraged, persevere. Open the New 
 Testament, and you will see how this is insisted 
 upon, again and again, and by various illustra- 
 tions. * That men should always pray, and never 
 faint,* was the great moral of more than one of 
 our Lord's parables ; and to * pray without ceas- 
 ing * was the corresponding direction of his Apos- 
 I 
 
86 
 
 ties. Situated as we are in this world, there h 
 danger that, perceiving little immediate fruit from 
 our devotions, we should relax our diligence in 
 them ; first doubting their value, then losing our 
 interest in them, and then ceasing to perform 
 them. But we should, recollect, that, in this 
 case, as in all the most important and admirable 
 provisions of Divine Wisdom, it is the order of 
 Heaven to give, not to a single exertion, nor to a 
 few acts, nor even to some continuance of effort, 
 hut only to a long, unremitted, persevering effort. 
 We read this lesson every where. Look at that 
 glorious operation of God, by which the sun cher- 
 ishes and matures the fruits of the earth for the 
 sustenance of his creatures. It is not accomplish- 
 ed by one act, nor by several acts, nor yet by sud- 
 den, violent exertions of power. He sends out 
 his beams steadily day by day, month after month; 
 yet the fruit is still green, the harvest immature ; 
 and if, weary with the work, he should abandon 
 it, famine might devastate the globe, when but six 
 days' longer perseverance, would see it success- 
 ful. The whole toil of the season might thus be 
 thrown away, when a trifling addition only was 
 necessary to render it all effective. In how many 
 other cases is the same truth illustrated. Will 
 you then abandon your prayers, because you do 
 not witness the effect from them which you de- 
 sire ? Will you be discouraged, when by a little 
 
87 
 
 longer continuance, you may receive the full bles- 
 sing at once ? Shall the husbandman * wait pa- 
 tiently/ and will you, looking for an immortal 
 harvest, lose it for want of patience ? No. This 
 is the eternal, immutable rule, in regard to all 
 great acquisitions. Piety and virtue, character 
 and immortality, depend upon a long succession 
 of actions, neither of them, taken singly, of es- 
 sential moment, yet all in the aggregate essential 
 to effect the great end in view. Apply this con- 
 sideration to your prayers, and resolutely perse- 
 vere. 
 
 Thus it is the humble prayer of confident faith, 
 fervent and persevering, from which you are to 
 hope benefit and acceptance. 
 
 But you may ask, How shall I know that it is 
 accepted, and with what answer should 1 be sa- 
 tisfied ? 
 
 To the first part of this question^ there is but 
 one reply. If you are conscious of having prayed 
 aright, you may be assured that your prayer is 
 ac3«pted. You can have no external evidence of 
 the fact ; hut the Scriptures every where declare 
 that a right prayer is certainly accepted. This, 
 then, is a reason for self-examination, and for 
 carefully regulating the state of your mind. 
 
 You may imagine, however, that you are rather 
 to judge by the answer to your prayers ; and that 
 if, after ofl'ering earnest petitions for certain bles • 
 
88 
 
 sings, you find them denied, jou are to suppose 
 that your devotions are not accepted. 
 
 In regard to this I observe, that the purpose 
 of prayer is twofold, particular and general ; the 
 first, to supplicate certain specific blessings which 
 we need or desire ; the second, to obtain the di- 
 vine favor in general ; or, which is equivalent to 
 it, to obtain that state of mind and heart which is 
 always an object of complacency with God, and 
 secures his perm.anent approbation. Now it is 
 evident, that the latter is an object infinitely more 
 important than the former. It is of no conse- 
 quence whether you receive certain gifts of health, 
 or safety, or prosperous aff'airs, in comparison 
 with the importance of attaining that frame of 
 soul which God approves, and which will fit you 
 for heaven. If, then, you have plainly gathered 
 from your devotions the advantage of a religious 
 growth, if you are brought by them nearer to God, 
 formed into the likeness of Jesus Christ, and 
 made superior to the things of earth and sense ; — 
 then you have gained the highest objects which 
 man may aspire to, and should feel no dissatisfac- 
 tion or doubt because inferior blessings are de- 
 nied. Having received the greater, you should 
 be content not to receive the less. And this is a 
 sufficient reply to the second part of the question 
 stated above : viz. With what answer shall I be 
 satisfied ? Be satisfied with that answer, which 
 
89 
 
 is found ill the improving state of your own reli- 
 gious aftections ; in the peace, serenity, confi- 
 dence, and Lope, which belong to a mind habitu- 
 ally conversant with God, and which God bestows 
 only on such. 
 
 1 do not mean to say, that other and more speci- 
 fic answers may not be sometimes given ; for 
 doubtless the devout mind may often have reason 
 to trace particular blessings, and with a practised 
 eye may trace them, to a source which has been 
 opened in reply to the prayer of faith. Wiien 
 you shall perceive it to be so in your own case, 
 happy will you be ; and you will not fail to ac- 
 knowledge it with suitable gratitude. But what 
 I mean to say is, that this in not what you are 
 habitually to expect ; you are not to wait for this 
 in order to the satisfaction of your mind. God 
 feeds his children with spiritual food ; and it is 
 one part of his discipline of their faith, to deny 
 tbem temporal blessings in order to the more 
 abundant bestowal of those that are spiritual ; to 
 advance the moral man to perfection, through the 
 disappointment or mortification of the outward 
 man. Do not, then, be uneasy, because your 
 prayers may at first view seem inefficacious, and 
 return to you empty. The service of truth and 
 virtue is not to be rewarded by the wages of this 
 world's goods, Healtli, strength, riches, pros- 
 perity, are not the best, they arc not the appro- 
 I 2 
 
90 
 
 priate recompence for self-denial, humility, be- 
 nevolence, and purity. The true recompence is 
 eternal and imperishable. If you have this, why 
 be dissatisfied that you have not the other ? If 
 you have this, how can you fancy that God has 
 not accepted your prayer ? 
 
 To which it may be added, that if you prayed 
 aright, you prayed in the spirit of submission ; 
 not only acknowledging, but feeling, the wisdom 
 of Heaven to be greater than your own, and de- 
 siring to obtain only such gifts as that wisdom 
 should judge it best to bestow. Such gifts, of 
 course, are granted. If, therefore, you were sin- 
 cere, you should be content. You are not re- 
 lieved, perhaps, from the trouble against which 
 you prayed ; the evil you fear comes, the good 
 you desire is denied, notwithstanding your earn- 
 est supplication. But does it follow that your 
 prayer is slighted ? Believe it not. What you 
 designed was, to ask blessings ; you named the 
 things which you esteemed such ; but at the same 
 time you knew that your judgment was fallible. 
 If God has refused the things specified, it is be - 
 cause in his judgment they would not prove bles- 
 sings, and he has bestowed in their stead, an in- 
 crease of faith, which is a real blessing. Or per- 
 haps I may say, he has proposed to you a disci- 
 pline of your faith, which will prove a transcend- 
 ent good, unless, by your blind discontent and 
 misuse of it, you turn it into a curse. 
 
91 
 
 It will follow from these remarks, that we are 
 to dwell in prayer on topics, rather of a spiritual, 
 than of a temporal nature ; should ask such things 
 as relate rather to our character than to our condi- 
 tion, rather to our religious than to our worldly 
 prosperity. For these being the chief objects of 
 desire and happiness (so much so that our peti- 
 tions for earthly good oftentimes receive no re- 
 ply but in the state of our own minds), it must 
 follow that they should be our chief objects of in- 
 terest and desire in our exalted hours of commu- 
 nication with God. Our religious addresses in 
 those hours are made up of adoration, thanksgiv- 
 ing, confession, petition. Now tv,o of these, 
 adoration and confession, relate to spiritual ob- 
 jects exclusively. The other two relate to objects 
 of both a spiritual and temporal character, the 
 blessings and wants of both soul and body. But 
 it is plain that the former far exceed the latter in 
 number and in importance, and should, therefore, 
 occupy the larger share of attention. If, then, 
 you would do what is most consonant to the na 
 ture of the exercise, and your own most real 
 wants ; if you would receive blessings correspond- 
 ing to the petitions you express ; you will dwell 
 principally on spiritual and immortal good ; seek- 
 ing first of all, in prayer as at all times, * the 
 kingdom of God and its righteousness.' You will 
 do this, also, if you would copy the pattern which 
 
92 
 
 our Lord has given ; for of the seven sentences of 
 the prayer which he taught his disciples, only 
 one has relation to man's temporal condition. You 
 will do it, if you would imitate our great Exem- 
 plar and Master, whose recorded prayers have ex- 
 clusive regard to the welfare of his spiritual king- 
 dom, and the bestowment of internal blessings. 
 
 And it is not to the example alone of the Savi- 
 our that you are to have reference in your prayers. 
 You are also to regard him, as the Mediator, 
 through whom they are to be offered. It belongs 
 to the system of our religion, that the thought of 
 its Founder should be associated in tlie minds of 
 his disciples with all that they are and do ; with 
 their sense of obligation, and their sentiments of 
 piety. They are * to do every thing in the name 
 of the Lord Jesus;' with a consciousness of their 
 connexion with him, and of their dependence up- 
 on the instruction, motives, and strength they 
 have received from him. They are * to walk by 
 faith in the son of God.' His image is to be blend- 
 ed with their whole life. Especially is this to be 
 the case in the acts of life which are strictly and 
 peculiarly religious. * Whatsoever ye ask in my 
 name, believing.' * Giving thanks unto God and 
 the Father by him.' It is only through his in- 
 struction, authority, and encouragement, that they 
 know their privilege of filial worship, and are en- 
 abled so to offer it, that they may look for accept- 
 
93 
 
 ance. The hope of pardon on the confession of 
 sin is grounded upon what he has done, suffered, 
 and declared ; and the confidence with which the 
 penitent seeks forgiveness and life, is owing to his 
 trust in the word of Jesus, and his heing able to 
 lean on him as a friend and advocate, when he 
 casts himself a suppliant before God. Understand 
 then, that the acceptable prayer is that which is 
 made in the name of the great Intercessor ; and 
 let your heart be warmed and emboldened in your 
 devotions by the consciousness of your relation to 
 him ' whom the Father heareth always.' 
 
 I will add but two further remarks before clos- 
 ing this topic. First, I have all along assumed, 
 that I am addressing a person sincerely engaged 
 in the pursuit of religious attainments. This sin- 
 cerity of pursuit is a fundamental requisite, with- 
 out which all exhortations, means, assistance, sa- 
 crifices, will be only thrown away. If, therefore, 
 after having made some effort after a spirit of de- 
 votion, in pursuance of the course recommended, 
 you find, as men sometimes do, that you derive 
 from it neither improvement nor satisfaction, I 
 recommend to you to examine whether you are 
 really in earnest ; whether you do, actually, in 
 your heart, desire religious improvement; whether 
 in short, there be not in you a lurking preference 
 for your present state of mind, and an attachment 
 to some passion, taste, or pursuit, incompatible 
 
94 
 
 with a zealous devotedness to Christian truth, and 
 a suitable attention to the discipline which it de- 
 mands. Many are no doubt prevented from ad- 
 vancement by secret hindrances of this nature, of 
 whose operation they are not at all aware. If, 
 upon inquiry, you cannot discover that it is so 
 with you, then examine strictly the methods you 
 have pursued, and the observances you have prac- 
 tised. You will probably find that they have 
 been in some particulars injudiciously selected, 
 or improperly, or insufficiently attended ; that 
 you have failed in a resolute, steadfast, systematic 
 adherence to your own rules ; that you have ha- 
 bitually allowed yourself in something wrong, or 
 neglected something right. Look after your mis- 
 take. When you shall have discovered and cor- 
 rected it, you may be certain of securing the im- 
 provement you desire. 
 
 Secondly, take heed that you do not allow your- 
 self to fancy, that an observance of these or simi- 
 lar rules constitutes all your duty under this head. 
 Do not forget, that the devotion which Christi- 
 anity teaches, is nothing less than perpetually 
 thinking, feeling, and acting as becomes a child 
 of God, — a perpetual worship. This is the end 
 at which you are to aim ; — an end, however, which 
 is not to be attained without the use of means ; 
 and the directions in the preceding pages are de- 
 signed simply to point out some of the means. 
 
95 
 
 Some persons do not need snch directions. For 
 them they are not designed. But there are others 
 to whom they must be welcome and wholesome. 
 Let such use them, but without forgetting that 
 they are means only. Let them guard, from the 
 first and always, against the idea, that the prac- 
 tice of these will secure the great object, without 
 any further exertion or sacrifice ; that to be de- 
 vout men, they have only to observe stated seasons 
 and perform stated acts. There cannot be a more 
 pernicious error. It is at variance with the whole 
 nature and spirit of Christianity. God is to be 
 served by the entire life ; by its actions as well 
 as its thoughts, its duties as well as its desires, its 
 deeds as well as its feelings. 
 
 The religious man must have the frame of his 
 mind and the tenor of his conduct at all times re- 
 ligious ; in the market and the family, no less 
 than in the closet and the church. Indeed, con- 
 sidering how much more of life is spent abroad in 
 action and trial, than is passed in the worship and 
 contemplation of retirement, it is plainly of great- 
 er consequence to watch and labor in the world, 
 than in private. Besides that it is easier to be 
 religiously disposed for an hour a day, when read- 
 ing the Bible or kneeling at the altar, than it is 
 to be so during the many other hours which are 
 full of the world's temptations, and when all the 
 irregular passions are liable to be excited. Re- 
 
96 
 
 member, then, to try your prayers by your life ; 
 you may know how sincere they are, by their 
 agreement or disagreement with your habitual 
 sentiments and conduct. Regulate your life by 
 your prayers ; in vain do you think yourself reli- 
 gious, if you go with holy words and humble con- 
 fession to the Divine presence, but at other times 
 live in thoughtlessness and sin. True religion is a 
 single thing. Devout exercises form a part of its 
 exhibition ; holy living forms another part. Un- 
 less they exist together, it is to no purpose that 
 they exist all. To separate them is to destroy 
 the religion. To this consideration, then, let your 
 perpetual and vigilant attention be given ; and be 
 satisfied with your hours of devotion, only when 
 they exercise a sacred and constant influence over 
 the condition of your mind and life, and have 
 made them holy unto the Lord. 
 
 IV. Preaching. 
 
 From the more private means of religious im- 
 provement, we pass to the consideration of those 
 which are in their nature public. 
 
 Preaching is a divine institution ; and its au- 
 thority and wisdom have been illustriously justi- 
 fied in the success which has attended it in every 
 age of the church. It is to a publication from 
 the lips of living teachers, that the gospel owes 
 its spread through so large a portion of the globe. 
 At its first introduction, at its reformation, and in 
 
97 
 
 its present diffusion, it has been the * company of 
 the preachers * that has arrested attention to its di- 
 vine truths, and subdued the hearts of men to its 
 holy power. And it always must be the case, 
 however great may be the efficacy of those more 
 personal instruments of which we have spoken, 
 that the pulpit shall be the main engine for the 
 incitement and instruction of the individual mind, 
 and the maintenance of the power of religion in the 
 Christian world. 
 
 Multitudes, however, habitually attend the 
 preaching of the gospel, with little profit, and 
 with no adequate apprehension of its purpose or 
 value. Habit, thoughtlessness, inattention, world- 
 liness, cause its sublime instructions to be unheed^ 
 ed, and render its powerful appeals unimpressive. 
 It may have been so with you in times past. But 
 if you are now truly awake to the necessity of 
 studying the improvement of your character, and 
 making God's will the rule of your life, you will 
 listen eagerly to the preaching of his truth, and 
 drink it in as a thirsty man water. I say nothing, 
 therefore, to urge the duty of attendance in the 
 house of prayer. You will esteem it one of your 
 privileges ; and will feel that, however imperfectly 
 the word may be dispensed, it is yet full of a di- 
 vine savor, and profitable to any one who seeks 
 his soul's good rather than his mind's entertain- 
 ment. 
 
 K 
 
98 
 
 tn order to the greatest advantage from tlii^ 
 duty, it is well, in the first place, to give heed to 
 the manner in which the other hours of the sab- 
 bath are spent. There can be no doubt that one 
 considerable cause of the inefficacy of preachings 
 is to be found in the circumstance, that the re* 
 niainder of the Sabbath is passed in a manner lit- 
 tle likely to prepare the mind for its religious 
 services, and suited to obliterate the impressions 
 received from them. The sentiments excited in 
 holy timej instead of being cherished, are checked 
 and smothered by the uncongenial engagements 
 of the rest of the day ; and Sunday becomes at 
 length even a day for hardening the heart, through 
 this habitual resistance of the most solemn truths. 
 For when exposed to their frequent repetition, if 
 it do not yield to them, it must inevitably become 
 callous to them. This evil you are to guard against 
 by making the whole occupation of the day har- 
 monize with that portion of it, which is spent in 
 public worship. And to do this implies no fana^ 
 tical recluseness or morose sullenness. It implies 
 nothing but the endeavour of a reasonable man, 
 who finds that the cares of the six days tend to 
 distract his feelings from religion, to counteract 
 them on the day set apart for that purpose. It is 
 only saying, with regard to all worldly occupa- 
 tions, what Burke said of politics in the pulpit; 
 —Six days are full of them, and six days are 
 
99 
 
 enough ; let us give one day to something better. 
 You will, therefore, be careful so to spend your 
 morning hours, that you shall enter the sanctuary 
 with a prepared mind, — already touched with a 
 sense of God, and tuned to his praise. Your 
 reading and your thoughts will be directed to this 
 purpose and instead of cherishing or inviting vain 
 thoughts and a light state of feeling, by lounging 
 over a newspaper, or a novel, or by conversation 
 on the passing events of the day, you will occupy 
 yourself on such subjects as shall hallow the tem- 
 per of your mind, and exclude the crowd of im- 
 pertinent desires. Then yon will be ready to 
 join feelingly in the public service of your Maker, 
 and listen profitably to the exhortations of the 
 pulpit. 
 
 You have doubtless observed in your own case, 
 and heard it remarked by others, that the same 
 discourse underdifferent circumstances seems like 
 a very different thing ; that what at one time is 
 listened to with pleasure and interest, at another 
 is heard with indifference. To what can this be 
 owing, but to the variation in the hearer's state of 
 mind ? The discourse is the same ; but it ad- 
 dresses itself to a soul at one time tuned to the 
 occasion and the subject, and at another tuned to 
 something else. So important is adaptation, — as 
 might be illustrated in a thousand ways. Hence 
 you will study to carry a prepared mind to the 
 
100 
 
 hearing of the word, that you may not fail of re- 
 ceiving the utmost edification. Otherwise you 
 may sit under the most powerful ministry, and 
 hear divine truth dispensed with an eloquence 
 worthy of angels, and yet sit unmoved. It can be 
 powerful to your heart, it can effectually promote 
 your progress in the Christian life, only through 
 your own preparation to receive it, and in pro- 
 portion to that preparation. 
 
 Let me also caution you to remember, that there 
 is good and important matter belonging to every 
 subject which the pulpit may treat ; and it is very 
 unwise (to use the mildest expression) to turn 
 away dissatisfied, because a sermon does not hap- 
 pen to fall in with the state of your feelings. Hear- 
 ers are often guilty of great injustice in this way. 
 They are too ready to measure the preacher's fi- 
 delity by the degree in which he speaks to their 
 own immediate experience. They are earnestly 
 engaged in particular views, feelings, trains of 
 thought, processes of experience, which, filling 
 their mind, seem to them all in all ; and if the 
 preacher does not touch upon these, they condemn 
 him as dry, cold, and jejune. But they should 
 consider, that there are other minds to be suited 
 besides their own, arid that what is so ill adapted 
 to themselves, may be precisely what is needed 
 by others ; nay, precisely what they themselves 
 may need at another time. Instead of expressing 
 
101 
 
 dissatisfaction, they should rejoice that every one 
 receives in turn a portion adapted to him, and en- 
 deavor to elicit something applicable to themselves. 
 If they will but seek, they will often find a sea- 
 sonable word when they least expect it. Let me 
 entreat you to make this your habit. If you do 
 not, it is plain that many Sundays will be lost to 
 you (for you cannot have your own case always 
 treated), and you will moreover become afastidi- 
 our and querulous hearer, discontented with your- 
 self, and uncomfortable to others. But if you 
 resolutely bring your mind to take an interest in 
 whatever you hear, you will always find cause for 
 contentment and satisfaction, if not for edification 
 and delight. 
 
 Few things are more hostile to such attendance 
 on preaching as shall promote religious improve- 
 ment, tha^ the habit of listening to sermons as 
 literary or rhetorical effbrts, and for the gratifi* 
 cation of a literary taste. From the very nature 
 of the case, it must result in constant dissatisfac- 
 tion. For let it be considered how few of all the 
 authors who have published books, are able to 
 give this gratification ; and can it then be expect- 
 ed of every preacher ? How small a proportion 
 of the thousands who have preached, have printed 
 their sermons ; and how few of these have a place 
 among the eminent names of literature. Hence 
 it is impossible that every preacher should, every 
 K 2 
 
lOQ 
 
 Sunday, satisfy a man who has formed his taste 
 on printed specimens of excellence, and who 
 comes to gratify it at church. It is inevitable that 
 such a one should be disappointed and displeased 
 far more often than he shall be tolerably gratified. 
 Those who, on this ground, are accustomed to 
 speak harshly of ministers and to excite discon- 
 tent in the community, would do well to reflect 
 on the unreasonableness of the requisition ; and 
 learn that they injure themselves by looking for 
 what they cannot expect to find, to the neglect of 
 that substantial good which alone is intended to 
 be conveyed. But he who thinks only of improve- 
 ment and the religious exercise of his mind, will 
 always find something to engage and satisfy him. 
 Distinguished talent, there may not be, nor origi- 
 nal thought, nor striking images, nor tasteful com- 
 position, nor eloquent declamation ; but Christian 
 truth, old and familiar perhaps, but still high and 
 important, there always will be. Dwelling upon 
 this, excited by it to reflection, occupied in study- 
 ing by its light his own character and prospects, 
 and the perfections and purposes of God, he has 
 no lack of interesting thought. The preacher 
 becomes but a secondary object. His God, his 
 duty, his salvation, these are the topics on which 
 his mind runs ; and these he can contemplate, he 
 will not be hindered from contemplating them, 
 whatever may be the feebleness or deficiencies of 
 him who ministers at the altar. 
 
103 
 
 Bacon has laid down a rule for profitable read- 
 ing, which ought to be sacredly applied to preach- 
 ing, by those who would listen to it profitably : 
 'liead, not to contradict and confute, nor to be- 
 lieve and take for granted, nor to find talk and 
 discourse, but to weigh and consider. ' What you 
 hear from your minister, ' weigh and consider ' 
 for a religious end and a personal application. To 
 listen as a critic, with a fastidious nicety about 
 diction, and a captious sensibility to style, is a 
 sure method to defeat what should be the first 
 object with the hearer, as it is the great purpose 
 of the speaker. For which reason, it has been 
 remarked, we are not to be surprised that Paul, 
 with all his energy of speech, made so few eon- 
 verts and gathered no church among the Atheni- 
 ans ; the sensitive and intellectual taste, and love 
 of ingenious fancies, which distinguished then!, 
 formed a habit of mind peculiarly fitted to destroy 
 the capacity for receiving any strong and pro- 
 found impressions. 
 
 In the next place, if you think that when you 
 leave the house of God, you may discharge from 
 your mind the thoughts and sentiments there ex- 
 cited ; if you immediately join in frivolous socie- 
 ty and ordinary conversation ; if you occupy your 
 time in making visits of ceremony, or in reading 
 the Sunday newspaper and books of amusement, 
 you can derive little advantage from the service 
 
in which you have engaged. However serious 
 may have been your attendance, however earnest 
 the wish for improvement, you are taking the 
 surest method to render it all vain. The word 
 spoken must be treasured up, the counsels of wis- 
 dom must be made to abide in the heart, the in- 
 structions and warnings of Heaven must be fixed 
 by reflection and thought, or the impressions you 
 have received will be transitory, and the good pur- 
 poses which spring up within you will pass away 
 like the early dew. If the preacher have pre- 
 sented arguments for the truth of Christianity, or 
 for the support of any of its great doctrines, of 
 what use has this b'een to you, if you shall know 
 nothing about them to-morrow ? And how can 
 you hope to remember what is so difficult to be 
 retained, if you take no pains to refresh your mind 
 with it by immediate retirement and contempla- 
 tion ? If he have been urging you to the study of 
 your own heart, and pointing out the sources of 
 self-deception, and the means of preservation 
 against the sins which easily beset you, and you 
 have been affected and humbled, and made to re- 
 solve on greater watchfulness ; of what avail will 
 this be, if you immediately abandon yourself to 
 frivolous topics of thought ? and how are you any 
 the better prepared for the temptations and trials 
 of to-morrow, if you thus drive froiji your mind 
 those views which were to strengthen you ? Or 
 
105 
 
 if he have presented to you the elevating truths 
 respecting God, and heaven, and man's prospects 
 of glory, and thus raised in your spirit a glow of 
 divine love, and a sense of your exalted destiny, 
 and you at once turn from it all to employments 
 and tlioughts which are wholly of earth ; then is 
 not that holy excitement worse than lost ? have 
 you not done something to harden your heart, and 
 render it less capable of receiving the same im- 
 pression again ? For you have resisted its mo- 
 tions, and quenched its fire, by calling it back to 
 this lower world when it was just beginning to 
 delight itself in heaven. 
 
 Depend upon it, that the mere attendance up 
 on public worship is very insufficient, without 
 some care to fix its impressions afterward, and to 
 recall and strengthen what you have heard and 
 enjoyed. It is v/ise, therefore, to go back from 
 church to retirement, there to think over tlie truths 
 that you have heard, refresh the feelings that you 
 have indulged, apply to your conscience the doc- 
 trine delivered, and supplicate the divine blessing. 
 By habitually doing this, you will in time become 
 possessed of a large fund of religious information 
 and moral truth, which otherwise might have been 
 lost to you ; and instead of being in the condition 
 of those, who cannot perceive that the pulpit has 
 ever taught them any thing, you will find it a most 
 efficient and persuasive instructer. 
 
106 
 
 It is a custom with some persons, to make a 
 record of the discourses which they have heard, 
 entering in a book the texts and subjects, to- 
 gether with a brief sketch of the train of remark. 
 This is a very commendable and useful custom, 
 provided it be not allowed to take off one's 
 thoughts from the duty of self-application, and 
 do not become a mere eifort of memory and trial 
 of skill. If this be avoided, the practice will be 
 found useful in many respects. The exercise of 
 writing greatly assists that of thinking, and dis- 
 covers to one whether his ideas are distinct and 
 clear. It enables and compels him to look closely 
 at the subject, so that he cannot dismiss it with 
 the cursory and impatient examination which he 
 might be otherwise tempted to give it. It enables 
 him afterwards to read, with distinctness, the im- 
 pressions which he received, and to revive the 
 purposes which he formed in consequence of them. 
 His record becomes a spiritual monitor, remind- 
 ing him, whenever he consults it, of the lessona 
 he has learned, and the expostulations he has 
 heard ; and prompting him to a more definite 
 comparison of his actual attainments with the 
 standard which has been placed before him. The 
 advantages, which may thus be derived from it, 
 will be far more than a compensation for all the 
 trouble attending it. 
 
 But whether you make such memoranda or not 
 
107 
 
 the practice of recalling to mind the instructions 
 and reflections of God's house, if systematically 
 pursued, will save you from the pain of making 
 the complaint which we hear from so many, that 
 they cannot remember what they have heard^ 
 oftentimes not even the text ; and this too from 
 persons, who can repeat all the particulars of a 
 long story to which they have listened^ or a longer 
 conversation in which they have taken part. Why 
 this difference ? Partly because they attended 
 with greater interest to the story and the conver- 
 sation, partly because these are more easily re- 
 membered than a formal discourse, but princi- 
 pally because these are matters that they are ac- 
 customed to recall to mind and repeat, which 
 they have not been accustomed to do in regard to 
 sermons. The want of practice is the principal 
 difliculty. Make it an object always to remember, 
 and be in the habit of going over again in your 
 mind, the principal topics, and you will not be 
 troubled with want of memory. 
 
 I should do wrong, however, if I did not here 
 speak a word of comfort to those humble and 
 sincere Christians, whose advantages in early life 
 were not such as to enable them to form any 
 habits of intellectual exertion, and who are in 
 consequence subject to a weakness of memory, 
 which they have struggled against in vain, and 
 which is a source of constant unhappiness to them. 
 
108 
 
 Every thing they hear from the pulpit slips from 
 their minds, even if it have highly moved and de- 
 lighted them ; and they fear that this is a sign of 
 unprofitableness and sin. To such it may be well 
 to recommend the reply of John Newton to one 
 who came to him sorrowing with the same com- 
 plaint. You forget, said he, what was preached 
 to you. So too you forget upon what food you 
 dined a week or a month ago ; yet you are none 
 the less sure that you received nourishment from 
 it. And no doubt also that your spiritual food 
 nourished you, though you have forgotten in what 
 it consisted. So long as you received it with 
 pleasure, and a healthy digestion, and it has kept 
 you a living and growing soul, it can be of no con- 
 sequence wheher you can particularly remember 
 it or not. 
 
 Finally, preaching, hov/ever ineffectual it may 
 often prove, is one of the chief means of grace, and 
 is capable of being made, by every individual, a 
 principal agent in his religious advancement. Let 
 it be so to you. It will be so, if you attend on it 
 in a right spirit, and faithfully strive to gain 
 nourishment from it. Do not let it be your shame 
 and guilt, that you sit year after year within hear- 
 ing of the preacher's voice, and yet are none the 
 better. Do not suffer it to be with yourself, as 
 it is with many, that preaching grows less inter- 
 esting as they advance. This, it is true, is in part 
 
109 
 
 owing to the nature of the mind, vrliicli finds a de- 
 light in what is new and fresh, which it does not 
 perceive in what has been long familiar. There 
 is a charm in listening to the word preached, when 
 the soul is first awakened to an interest in the 
 concerns of its salvation, and devours every sen- 
 tence as a hungry man his food, which cannot be 
 fully retained in cooler and maturer years. But 
 if the charm be entirely gone, if the relish be al- 
 together lost, it must be through your own fault. 
 It must be because you have not watched over the 
 tastes and susceptibility of your mind, but have, 
 through neglect, suffered it to become hardened. 
 Be but faithful to yourself, cherish your tender- 
 ness of spirit, take pains to keep alive the ardor 
 and interest of your younger days, and you will 
 find that your feelings will not become wholly 
 dead to the voice of the preacher, nor will time 
 and age be able to rob you of this source of your 
 enjoyment. The ancient philosopher, on whom 
 has been well bestowed the title of * Rome's least 
 mortal mind, ' in writing beautifully of old age, 
 tells us, that the great reason why the faculties 
 of men are impaired in the declining years of a 
 long life, is, that they cease to use and exercise 
 them ; and that any man, by continuing vigorously 
 to exert them as in earlier life, may hope to re- 
 tain them to the last in something of their origi- 
 nal power. The remark miy be applied to the 
 
 L 
 
no 
 
 old age of the Christian. By faithfully watching 
 over and exercising his feelings and emotions, he 
 may retain them in some good degree of liveli- 
 ness and vigor to the latest period. And although 
 the zest with which he hung on the ministration 
 of the word in the first ardor of his youthful faith 
 may be gone, he will maintain a sober interest 
 and find a tranquil delight, suited to the serenity 
 of his fading days, and to the peacefulness of the 
 expectation with which he waits the summons to 
 go home. 
 
 V. The Lord's Supper. 
 
 This interesting rite is the last in the series of 
 Christian means, which I shall mention. It is 
 that to which the yoUng disciple is accustomed to 
 look forward with intense feelingj and the arrival 
 at which constitutes an era in his progress fondly 
 expected and fondly remembered. Sometimes it 
 appears to be regarded too much as the limit of 
 improvement, the goal of the course, the prize of 
 the victory, after which the believer is to sit 
 down and enjoy in security the attainments lie has 
 made, exempt from the necessity of further watch- 
 fulness and combat. It is owing, in no small de- 
 gree, to the prevalence of this opinion, that so 
 many make no actual or perceptible progress 
 after tlicir arrival at the Lord's Table. They 
 esteem it less as the means and incitement of 
 greater improvement, than as the end and com- 
 
Ill 
 
 pletiou of the work they had uudertaken ; not so 
 much a refreshment to their weakness in the 
 trying journey of duty, as the festival which re- 
 wards its termination. Be on your guard against 
 this erroneous feeling. Habitually remember, 
 that your vigilance and labor are to end only at 
 the grave; that the fight lasts as long as life ; 
 that the crown of the victor is * laid up in hea- 
 ven ' ; and that whatever indulgences may be 
 granted here, they are but as encouragements to 
 your perseverance and strengtheners to your weak- 
 ness, designed to cheer and help you on your way ; 
 not seasons of repose and enjoyment, but of re- 
 collection and preparation ; — so that they in fact 
 form a part of that system of discipline, by which 
 every thing below is made to try and prove the 
 character of man. 
 
 In this light you will view the peculiar or- 
 dinance of our faith, — as a privilege and indul- 
 gence, but also as a pledge and incitement to ac- 
 tivity in duty. From the moment that it has been 
 your purpose to become a follower of Christ, you 
 have looked forward to this holy feast as some- 
 thing which it would make you but too blest to be 
 permitted to partake. While occupied with other 
 means of improvement, you have still felt that 
 there wss one thing lacking, and have perhaps 
 been stimulated to a more earnest diligence in the 
 use of them, by the reflection that they would pre= 
 
pare you for this ultimate and superior enjoyment. 
 Such is the very common experience of the grow- 
 ing Christian ; and it is my wish to show you how 
 that may be rendered a blessing in the enjoyment, 
 which has been so eagerly desired in the antici- 
 pation. 
 
 Settle it distinctly in your mind, that this or- 
 dinance, so far as relates to your concern in it, 
 has a twofold purpose : first, to express and mani- 
 fest your faith in Christ, and your allegiance and 
 attachment to him ; secondly, to aid and strength- 
 en you in a faithful adherence to his religion. 
 That is to say, in other words, by your attendance 
 at the Lord's table you declare yourself to be, 
 from principle and affection, a Christian ; and 
 you seek to revive and confirm the sentiments, 
 purposes, and habits, which belong to that cha- 
 racter. These are the two objects which the or- 
 dinance is intended to accomplish, and which you 
 are to have constantly in view. 
 
 By considering the first of these, you will be 
 enabled to decide how soon, and at what period, 
 you ought to offer yourself for this celebration. 
 Can you say, that you are in principle and affec- 
 tion a follower of Jesus Christ? This is the 
 question you are to put to yourself: not whether 
 you have been such for a long time ; not how 
 great attainments you have made ; — but, are you 
 such at heart, and are you resolved perseveringly 
 
lis 
 
 to maintain this character ? Look at this question 
 Ponder its meaning. Put it to yourself faithfully. 
 Do nothing with haste or rashness, but proceed 
 calmly and deliberately. Then, if you can con- 
 scieiitiously reply in the affirmative, if you have 
 already shown so much constancy in your efforts, 
 that you may rationally hope to persevere, you 
 may Qiake your profession before men, and take 
 the promised blessing. Hasty minds have some- 
 times rushed forward too soon, aud only exposed 
 their own instability, and brought dishonor on 
 their calling. Be not therefore hasty. But timid 
 men have sometimes hesitated too long ; have de- 
 layed till their ardor cooled, till they fancied they 
 could stand and flourish without any further help, 
 till death or age overtook them, and they were 
 called to meet their Lord v/ithout having confess- 
 ed him before men. Beware, therefore, that you 
 delay not too long. To deliberate whether we 
 shall observe a commandment after our minds are 
 impressed with a sense of the duty of doing so, is 
 to break it. To postpone our acceptance of a 
 privilege, when we feel that it is such, and know 
 that it is offered to ourselves, is to refuse it, and 
 to forego its benefits. He who believes, and is 
 resolved to live and die in his belief, has a right 
 to this ordinance ; he is under his Master's ordejs 
 to attend it ; and he should reflect, that obedience, 
 to be acceptable, should be prompt 
 L 2 
 
114 
 
 As soon, therefore, as you-r attention to religi- 
 ous things has siifliciently prepared and settled 
 your mind, you will solemnly acknowledge it by 
 this outward testimonial of faith. So far the or- 
 dinance looks to the past. It also looks to the 
 future ; and you will, secondly, as I said, use it 
 as a salutary means of religious growth, appoint- 
 ed to this end, and singularly suited to accom- 
 plish it. You will regard it, and attend it, as one 
 of the appropriate instruments by which you are 
 to keep alive, and carry on to perfection, that 
 principle of spiritual life, which has had birth 
 within you, and has made a certain progress 
 toward maturity. 
 
 It is a means singularly fitted to accomplish 
 this end, because it is an ordinance at pnce so af- 
 fecting and so comprehensive. Aft'ecting, by 
 bringing directly before us, in one collected vieiw, 
 the circumstances under which it was instituted, 
 and the purposes of Heaven with which it is con- 
 nected ; — the trials and sufferings of the Son of 
 man, the meekness and sublimity of his submis- 
 sion, the tenderness and pathos of his last con- 
 versation and prayers, the desertion in which he 
 was left by his disciples, the insults to which he 
 was exposed from his ei^emies, the torture in 
 which he died, submissive and forgiving ; and all 
 this, that he might seal the truth which he had 
 taught^ and provide salvation for miserable men. 
 
115 
 
 It is true that all this is familiar to the mind, and 
 often brought before it in other acts of worship. 
 But here it forma the express subject of contem- 
 plation and prayer. Here it is set before us more 
 evidently and vividly by the circtim stances, the 
 forms, the apparatus of the occasion. It is made 
 the special object of regard, and flierefore is suit- 
 ed, in a peculiar manner, to affect us. 
 
 But it has another advantage. It is as com- 
 prehensive as it is affecting. In its primitive in- 
 tention, in its simple purpose, it is as it was de- 
 signated by our Lord himself, a commemoration 
 of him : ' This do in remembrance of me.' And 
 what is it to remember Jesus, rightly and effect- 
 ually, but to call to mind all that he was, and did, 
 and suffeced in his own person ; and all the bles- 
 sings, advantages, and hopes, which have result- 
 ed, and shall forever result to us, from his minis- 
 try and death ? These are all connected together 
 by one close and indissoluble chain. They are 
 united in inseparable union with his name and 
 memory. When we reflect on our Master, our 
 minds cannot pause till they have gone over all 
 his example in life and death, have recalled his 
 character and instructions, pondered on the ex- 
 cellence and beauty of his truths, the glory of 
 his promises, the bliss of his inheritance. Thence 
 they will pass on to survey the effects which he 
 has already produced on the condition and charac- 
 
116 
 
 ter of the world, to observe the contrast of our 
 present enviable lot with what it would have been 
 if he had not established his reign among men, 
 and to contemplate the spreading prospects of hu- 
 man felicity in the wider extension of his king- 
 dom ; — the removal of error, corruption, ignor- 
 ance, and sin, and the establishment of universal 
 i.'uth, righteousness, knowledge, and peace. 
 Thence they will pass on to a future world ; to 
 the unseen and unimaginable joys of a life in which 
 purity, love, and happiness shall be infinite in 
 measure and infinite in duration, and where man, 
 made the companion of angels, freed from sin and 
 from suffering, shall dwell in the light of God's 
 presence without end. We shall recollect, that 
 for all our hope of acceptance to that world, and 
 of pardon for the sins which have made us un- 
 worthy of it; for all those gifts of light and strength 
 which shall prepare us for it ; for all the tran- 
 quillity, consolation, and support, which in weak- 
 ness, sorrow, and death, the knowledge of our im- 
 mortality imparts, — for these we are indebted to 
 Christ ; without whom we sliould still have re- 
 mained ignorant on this first of subjects, and un- 
 consoled in the severest trials. So that in one 
 word, there is no topic of religion, none of thanks- 
 giving or prayer, none of penitence, gratitude, or 
 iiope, none of present or of future felicity for our- 
 selves or for others, which is not called up to the 
 
117 
 
 mind, by the faithful use of this simple but ex- 
 pressive service. As tlie believer sits at his Mas- 
 ters table, he seems to himself to be sitting in 
 his presence ; together with his image, every bles- 
 sing of his faith and hope rises brightly to view ; 
 and his heart burns within him, as he contemplates 
 the grace with which his unworthy spirit has been 
 visited, and realizes the hope that he shall par- 
 take in his own person of the glories which his 
 Lord revealed. As he looks unto him, * the au- 
 thor and finisher of our faith, who, for the joy set 
 before him, endured the cross,despising the shame,' 
 he grows strong to do and endure likewise, ani- 
 mated by the hope set before him, of entering in- 
 to the joy to which his crucified Master has as- 
 cended. 
 
 Is it not then evident, that you have here a 
 means, of singular power, to keep the attention 
 awake and the heart right ; and that your spirit 
 can hardly slumber, if you faithfully open it to 
 the influences of this observance ? Remember, 
 however, that its value will depend on yourself, 
 and the manner in which you engage in it. It 
 has no mystical charm, no secret and magic power 
 to bless you against your will. Every thing de- 
 pends on your own sincerity and devotion. Earn- 
 estly desire, and pray, and endeavor that it may 
 do you good, and it will do you good. Go to it 
 heedless, thoughtless, and unprepared, and it will 
 
118 
 
 prove to you an idle and inefficient ceremony. The 
 great cause why so many derive no improvement 
 from the repeated performance of the duty, is, 
 that they attend it with inconsideration and cold- 
 ness, and with little purpose or desire of being 
 affected by it. Let your attendance be in a differ- 
 ent state of mind. Engage resolutely in the suit- 
 able meditations ; examine yourself before and 
 after ; come to the celebration with a temper pre- 
 pared for worship, and leave it with one prepared 
 for duty. 
 
 There is a peculiar feature in the mode of ad- 
 ministering this ordinance, distinguishing it from 
 all other acts of social worship, to which it may 
 be well to advert. I refer to the pauses during 
 its administration, when each worshipper is left 
 to himself, to follow his own reflections, and make 
 his own prayers. There are thus united in the 
 occasion some of the advantages both of social and 
 of private devotion. When you have been excited 
 by the voice of the minister, and of general prayer, 
 you are permitted to retire without interference 
 into your own heart, to repeat the petitions and 
 confessions with a more close reference to your 
 own case, and to rnake yourself certain that you 
 understand and feel the service in which you are 
 engaged. You may find a great advantage in 
 these silent opportunities. In all other instances 
 of social worship, your attention is required with- 
 
119 
 
 out ceasing to some external process ; and you 
 pass on from one part of the service to another, 
 with little opportunity to reflect, as you proceed, 
 or to pursue the suggestions which are raade, in 
 the manner that your own peculiar condition may 
 require. But now the opportunity exists for tho- 
 roughly applying to your own personal state, all 
 that has met your ear, and for pouring out freely 
 the devotional feeling %^hich has been excited. 
 And if there be any thing favorable to the soul, 
 as multitudes of devout persons have insisted, in 
 occasions for contemplative worship in the pre- 
 sence of other men, then in this respect, the Lord's 
 supper may claim a superiority over every other 
 occasion of social devotion. 
 
 Many persons, I am aware, find it diiiicult so 
 to control their minds as to render these silent 
 moments profitable. But to such persons the 
 very difficulty becomes a useful discipline, and 
 the occasion should be valued for the sake of it. 
 To aid them in the use of it, and to prevent its 
 running to waste iu miserable listlessness and idle 
 rovings of the mind, it might be well that they 
 should have with them some suitable little book 
 of meditations and reflections, which they may 
 quietly consult in their seats as guides to thought 
 and devotion. 
 
 In a word, prepare your mind beforehand, be 
 faithful during the celebration, review it when it 
 
120 
 
 is past, and you will never have reason to com- 
 plain of its inefficacy as a means of religious im- 
 provement. You may not enj oy high and mysti- 
 cal raptures ; you may be sometimes overtaken 
 with languor and coldness ; but as long as in sin- 
 cerity, and from motives of duty, you present your- 
 self in this way before the Lord, you will find 
 that there is refreshment and encouragement in 
 the act. You will have in it satisfaction, if not 
 ecstasy ; and will never doubt that something of the 
 steadfastness of your principle, and of the vigor 
 of your hope, is owing to this affectionate appli- 
 cation of the life, example, and sacrifice of the 
 Saviour, in the way of his appointment. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE RELIGIOUS DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 Next to the means to be employed in the pro- 
 motion of personal religion, we must attend to the 
 oversight and direction of the character in general. 
 The means of which we have taken notice, con- 
 sist of a series of special and stated exercises, 
 whose object is to prepare us for the right con- 
 duct of actual life ; and they may be compared to 
 the daily drill of the soldier, by which he is made 
 ready for the field. Watchfulness and self-disci- 
 
1^1 
 
 pline belong to all times and occasions, and may 
 be compared to the actual use which the soldier 
 makes of his preparation in the camp and in the 
 field. The Christian is engaged occasionally in 
 prayer, meditation, study, and the communion ; 
 he must watch and govern himself always. To 
 the former duties he devotes certain appropriate 
 seasons ; the latter belong to every season and all 
 hours. The former constitute his preparation for 
 the Christian life ; the latter constitute its per- 
 vading spirit. No punctuality or fidelity in the 
 former proves a man to be religious without the 
 latter. And, therefore, having stated the manner 
 in which these means are to be used, it is neces- 
 sary for us to go on and show how they are to aff'ect 
 the whole conduct of life, and make it an exercise 
 of perpetual self-discipline. 
 
 Why you are to be always watchful over your- 
 self, is easily perceived. In this world of sensi- 
 ble objects and temporal pursuits, you are con- 
 stantly exposed to have your thoughts absorbed 
 by surrounding things, and withdrawn from the 
 spiritual objects to which they should be primarily 
 attached. You are incited to forget them, to 
 slight them, to counteract them. The engage- 
 ments, the anxiety, hurry, and pleasures of life, 
 thrust them from your thoughts ; and desires, pro- 
 pensities, passions are excited, quite inconsistent 
 v/ith the calm and heavenward aff"ections of Christ. 
 
 M 
 
12^ 
 
 All tbese tendencies in your situation are to be 
 resisted. You are to be ever on the alert, that 
 they may not lead you into any course of thought 
 or of action at rariance with the principles to 
 which you are pledged as a believer in Jesus 
 Christ, and which form your delight in your hours 
 of devotional enjoyment. Sueh inconsistency may 
 be sometimes witnessed. But what can be more 
 melancholy, than to see a rational being, deeply 
 convinced of the truths of religion, in his sober 
 hours of thought dwelling on them with fond and 
 delighted contemplation, excited by them to a 
 devout ardor of communion with God, and some- 
 times to a glow of holy rapture which seems to 
 belong to a superior nature ; — and then sinking 
 into worldliness, governing himself in ordinary 
 life by selfish maxims of temporal interest, obey- 
 ing the passions and propensities of his animal be- 
 ing, and, in a word, living precisely as he would 
 do, did he believe that there is nothing higher 
 or better than this poor life. I ask, what can be 
 more sad or pitiable than such a spectacle. Let it 
 be your earnest care to guard against so deplora- 
 ble an inconsistency. Now, while your mind is 
 warm with its early interest in divine things, — 
 now, while they press upon you in all their fresh- 
 ness, — now, take heed that you do not concentrate 
 that interest and use all its strength, in the luxury 
 oi devout musing, or the excitements of study and 
 
123 
 
 devotion ; but carry it into your whole life, let it 
 be always present to you in all you do, in all you 
 say ; let it form your habitual state of feeling, 
 your customary frame of mind and temper. Make 
 it your constant study, that nothing shall be in- 
 consistent with it, but every thing partake of its 
 power. This is the watchfulness in which you 
 must live. This is the purpose for which you 
 must exercise over yourself an unremitting and 
 ever wakeful discipline ; seeing to it, like some 
 magistrate over a city, or some commander over 
 an army, that all your thoughts, dispositions, 
 words, and actions be subject to the law of God» 
 and the principles of the Christian faith. 
 
 Thus it is plain that your chief business as well 
 as your great trial, in forming a Christian cha^- 
 racter, lies in the ordinary tenor of life. The 
 world is the theatre on which you are to prove 
 yourself a Christian. It is in the occurrences of 
 every day, in the relations of every hour, in your 
 affairs, in your family, in your conversation with 
 those around you, in your treatment of them, and 
 your reception of their treatment ; — it is in these, 
 that you are to cultivate and perfect the character 
 of a child of God which you are called to form. 
 It is in these, that your passions are exercised, 
 and your government of them proved ; in these, 
 that your command over that unruly member, the 
 tongue, is made known ; in these, that tempta- 
 
124 
 
 tions to wrong doing and evil speaking beset yon, 
 and that you are to apply your religious principle 
 in resisting tliem. In these it is, consequently, 
 that you discover whether your principle is real 
 and genuine, or whether it lies only in feeling and 
 in words. In the quiet of your chamber, in the 
 devout solitude of your closet, when the world is 
 «hut out, and your solemnized spirit feels itself 
 alone with God, you may be so exalted by com- 
 munion with Heaven, and by meditation on hea- 
 venly truth, that all things earthly shall seem 
 worthless and paltry, and every desire be set up- 
 on things above. How often, at such times, does 
 it appear as if the world had no longer any charms, 
 as if its pleasures and pomp could never again 
 entice or delight us. Our souls are above them. 
 We have no more relish for them than have the 
 angels. And if this were all which is required of 
 us, if nothing opposed to this delightful frame of 
 mind were ever to cross our path, the Christian 
 prize would be already won. But alas, in the 
 closet, and in the third heaven of contemplation, 
 we can live but a small portion of the time. We 
 must come down from the mount. We must enter 
 the crowd and distractions of common life. We 
 must engage in common and secular affairs. And 
 there, how much do we encounter that is opposed 
 to the calm and serene spirit of our contemplative 
 hours ! how much to irritate and disturb our quiet 
 
V25 
 
 self-possession ! how much to drive from our 
 thoughts the subjects on which we have been mus- 
 ing ! how much to revive the relish for transient 
 pleasures and worldly enjoyments, and a love for 
 the things which minister gratification to pride 
 and to the senses ! In the midst of these things, 
 dangerous, enticing, seductive, you are to live and 
 walk unchanged, unseduced, undefilcd ; your 
 heart true to its Master, your spirit firm in its al- 
 legiance to God, and your soul as truly devout 
 and humble, as when worshipping at the altar. Is 
 this easy ? I will not ask ; but, is it not your 
 great, your paramount, trial ? Is it not here, 
 that the very battle of your soul's salvation is to 
 be fought ; Is not this, as I said, the very field 
 of actual and decisive war, the very seat of the 
 fearful and final campaign ? And the prayers, 
 and studies, and observances of your more special 
 devotion, are they not the buckling on of the ar- 
 mor, and the refreshing and preparing of the soul 
 for its real combat ? 
 
 You perceive, then, how the Christian life must 
 consist in watchfulness and self-discipline ; how 
 it must be your great business to keep a faithful 
 guard over yourself, that both in mind and con- 
 duct nothing may exist contrary to the spirit and 
 precepts of Jesus Christ. 
 
 First of all, this guard is to be placed upon the 
 Mind. It is an intellectual, internal, spiritual 
 M 2 
 
12(3 
 
 disciplice ; tlie oversight and management of the 
 thoughts and affections. 
 
 There is a superficial religion, not unpopular io 
 the world, which is limited to the outward conduct 
 and the external relations of life ; which is made 
 to consist exclusively in rectitude of behavior and 
 uprightness of dealing. Into this error you are 
 not likely to fall, if you learn your religion from 
 the New Testament ; and I should not have 
 thought it needful to warn you against it, had it 
 not been so prevalent. Nothing but its common- 
 ness could render it credible, that men who pos- 
 sess the Scriptures, and fancy they understand 
 them, or who are simply capable of observation on 
 the nature of man and of happiness, should per- 
 suade themselves that the character which God 
 demands and will bless, is independent of the state 
 of the mind, and the frame of the affections. Is 
 it not the mind which constitutes the man ? Is it 
 not the mind which gives its moral complexion to 
 the conduct ? Is it not certain that the same con- 
 duct which we applaud as indicating an upright 
 character, we should disapprove and condemn on 
 discovering that it proceeded from base and im- 
 proper motives ? So that even men judge of char- 
 acter rather by the principle which actuates, than 
 by the actions themselves. How much more com- 
 pletely would this be the case, if, instead of being 
 obliged to infer the principle from the act, they 
 
127 
 
 could discern the principle itself, as it lies in the 
 mind of the agent ! Who in that case would ever 
 judge a man by his actions alone ? Who would 
 not always decide respecting his character, from 
 the principles and motives which guided him, — 
 his thoughts, dispositions, and habitual temper? 
 And thus it is that the Deity judges and decides. 
 He looks not on the outward appearance, but on 
 the heart. Consequently, how obvious is the po- 
 sition, that, in seeking the Christian character, 
 the first and most diligent watch must be placed 
 over the inner man. * Keep thy heart with all 
 diligence ; for out of it are the issues of life.' 
 
 This implies several things. First, a careful 
 guard over the Thoughts. It is in the heedless 
 disregard of the thoughts, that corruption often 
 takes its rise. They are suffered to wander with- 
 out restraint, to attach themselves without check 
 to any objects which attract the senses, or are sug- 
 gested in conversation, and to rove uncontrolled 
 from one end of the world to another. How many 
 hours are thus wasted in unprofitable musing, 
 which leaves no impression behind ! How much 
 of life is made an absolute blank! Worse still, 
 how often do sinful fancies, sensual images, unlaw- 
 ful desires, take advantage of this negligence, to 
 insinuate themselves into the mind, and make to 
 themselves a home there, polluting the chambers 
 of the soul, and rendering purity unwelcome ! 
 
128 
 
 This is the beginning of evil with many a one, 
 who, from this want of vigilance over the course 
 of his thoughts, has surrendered himself to frivol- 
 ity and sensuality, without being aware that he 
 was in peril. Thoughtlessness, mere thoughtless- 
 ness, has left the door open to sin, and the same 
 thoughtlessness prevents the detection of the in- 
 truder. 
 
 You may fancy that your present preference 
 for profitable subjects of thought, is such that you 
 are in no danger from this source. But beware 
 of trusting to any present disposition. If you be- 
 come confident you will fall ; and the rather, be- 
 cause the beginning of this peril is so subtle and 
 sly. Believe that the danger is real and immi- 
 nent, or it is scarcely possible that you should 
 not suffer from it. You may not, indeed, fall a 
 victim to irregular desires, and hurtful immorali- 
 ties ; but the habit of unwatched thought will 
 weaken your control over your mind, will dimin- 
 ish your power of self-government, and rob j^ou of 
 that vigorous self-possession, alive to every occa- 
 sion, and prompt at every call, which forms the 
 decision of character that ought to belong to him 
 who professes to follow the energetic principles 
 of Christian morality. So that, if you would be 
 saved from an unbecoming weakness of mind, and 
 its possible, not to say probable, consequences, 
 ungoverned desires and passions, keep a guard 
 
1^9 
 
 upon your thoughts. Let your morning and even- 
 ing prayer be, that you may live thoughtfully. 
 And when, in the business of the day, your hands 
 are occupied, but your mind free to think, keep 
 yourself attentive to your thoughts. Inquire fre- 
 quently how they are engaged. Direct them to 
 useful and innocent subjects. Think over the books 
 you have been reading ; rehearse to yourself the 
 knowledge you have gained ; call up the sermons 
 you have heard ? repeat the passages of scripture 
 you know. By methods like these, take care that 
 even your empty hours minister to your improve- 
 ment. Paley has truly observed, that every man 
 has some favorite subject to which his mind spon- 
 taneously turns at every interval of leisure ; and 
 that with the devout man the subject is God* 
 Hence the watching over your thoughts furnishes 
 you with a ready test of your religious condition ; 
 it exposes to you the first and faintest symptoms 
 of religious decline, and enables you to apply an 
 immediate remedy. 
 
 If the thouglits, which may be expressed in 
 words, are to be thus guarded, the Temper and 
 Feelings, which are often so indefinable in lan- 
 guage, require a no less anxious guardianship. In 
 the perplexities and trials of daily life, in the con- 
 flict with the various tempers and frequently per 
 verse dispositions of those around us, in the little 
 crosses, the petty disappointments, the trifling ills 
 
130 
 
 which are our perpetual lot, we are exposed to 
 lose that calm equanimity of mind which the 
 Christian should habitually possess. We are lia- 
 ble to be ruffled and irritated, and to feel and dis- 
 play another spirit than that gentleness which 
 bears all things, and is not easily provoked. The 
 selfishness of some, the obstinacy of others, the 
 pride of our neighbor, the heedlessness of our 
 children, and the unfaithfulness of our depend- 
 ents, tire our patience, and disturb our self-pos- 
 session ; while bodily infirmity and disordered 
 nerves magnify insignificant inconveniences into 
 serious evils, and irritate to peevishness and dis- 
 content the temper which duty calls to cheerful- 
 ness and submission. Some are blessed with i 
 native quietness of temperament which hardly 
 feels these hourly vexations. But of some they 
 form the great trial and peculiar cross ; they can 
 bear any thing better. And to all persons they 
 constitute an exposure full of hazard, and demand- 
 ing cautious vigilance. The very spirit and es- 
 sential traits of the Christian character require 
 watchfulness against them, and imply conquest 
 over them. The humility, meekness, forbearance, 
 gentleness, and love of peace ; the long-suffering, 
 the patience, the serenity, which form so lovely 
 a combination, which portray a character that no 
 one can fail to admire and love ; — these are to be 
 maintained only by much and persevering watch- 
 fulness. 
 
131 
 
 AVithout this, the most equitable disposition by 
 uature may become irritable and unhappy. With 
 it, under the authority and guidance of Christian 
 faith, the most unfortunate natural temper is sub- 
 dued to the gentleness of the lamb. Without it, 
 the internal condition of man is restless, rebelli- 
 ous, full of wretchedness, having no peace in it- 
 self, and enjoying nothing around. With it, the 
 aspect of the world becomes changed ; every thing 
 is bearable if not pleasant-; the sweet light which 
 beams within, shines on all without, making pleas- 
 ant the aspect of all men, and smoothing the 
 roughnesses of all affairs. Who does not know 
 how much the events of life take their hue from 
 the state of the disposition ? To the proud, sus- 
 picious, and jealous, every man seems an intrud- 
 er, every gesture an insult, and every event a 
 cause of vexation and wrath. To the self-govern- 
 ed and amiable, every thing is tolerable, and he 
 feels nothing of the inconveniences which make 
 the misery of the other. One's happiness, there- 
 fore, as well as duty, requires this control of the 
 disposition. And when the Saviour pronounced 
 his benediction on the pure, peaceful, humble- 
 minded, and meek, he taught, not only the great 
 requisite of his spiritual kingdom, but the great 
 secret of human felicity. 
 
 When the frame of your mind is thus a constant 
 care, you will find little difficulty in the control 
 
13^ 
 
 of the appetites. These things are connected to- 
 gether ; and an ascendency over the former being 
 secured, the subjection of the latter easily follows. 
 But take good heed that it does follow. Do not be 
 thoughtless about it, because you fancy that it will 
 of course accompany a regulated mind. Other- 
 wise it is here that corruption may begin. The 
 enemy will enter at any place, however improba- 
 ble, which shall be left unguarded. And it only 
 needs that the body become disordered through 
 the immoderate indulgence of the appetites, to 
 raise a rebellion throughout the whole moral sys- 
 tem ; or to speak more plainly, this indulgence 
 will create cloudiness of mind, indisposition to 
 thought, activity, and duty, irritability of temper, 
 sluggishness of devotional feeling, and at length a 
 general spiritual lethargy. There can be little 
 doubt, that much of our dulness of apprehension, 
 and deadness of feeling, on spiritual topics, as 
 well as our strange sensibility to minor trials, is 
 owing to a derangement of the animal economy, 
 which is again owing to want of moderation in 
 gratifying our animal desires. Hence there was 
 some reason in the abstinence and fastings of re- 
 ligious men in ancient times ; and if we valued 
 sufficiently, what they perhaps valued supersti- 
 tiously, — serenity and brightness of mind, an 
 equal temper, and a perpetual aptitude for spirit- 
 ual contemplation ; we should imitate them more. 
 
133 
 
 if not in their fastings, yet certainly in their tem- 
 perance. At any rate, ' let your moderation be 
 known unto all men.' For temperance is not only 
 the observance of an express injunction, but is es- 
 sential to that quietness and self-control which 
 should mark the religious character. 
 
 The next exercise of self-discipline will be in 
 Conversation. Conversation, while it is a chief 
 source of improvement and pleasure, is also a 
 scene of peculiar trial, and the occasion of much 
 sin. One might suppose that few persons ever 
 dream that they are accountable for what passes 
 in conversation, although there is no point of or- 
 dinary life which Jesus and the Apostles have 
 more frequently and sternly put under the con- 
 trol of religious principle. Their language is 
 strikingly urgent on this head ; and yet, so little 
 scrupulousness is there among men, even religi- 
 ous men, that it would seem as if they felt ashamed 
 to be careful in their talk. A thoroughly well- 
 governed speech is so rare, that we still say in 
 the words of James, ' If any man offend not in 
 word, the same is a perfect man. ' 
 
 Do not allow yourself to be off your guard in 
 this respect. Make it a part of your business, by 
 a cautious prudence, to have your speech consist- 
 ent with the rest of your character. Do not flatter 
 yourself that your thoughts are under due con- 
 trol, your desires properly regulated, or your dis- 
 N 
 
134 
 
 positions subject as they should be to Christian 
 principle, if your intercourse with others consists 
 mainly of frivolous gossip, impertinent anecdotes, 
 speculations on the character and affairs of your 
 neighbours, the repetition of former conversations, 
 or a discussion of the current petty scandal of so- 
 ciety. Much less if you allow yourself in care- 
 less exaggeration on all these points, and that 
 grievous inattention to exact truth which is apt 
 to attend the statements of those whose conversa- 
 tion is made up of these materials. Give no coun- 
 tenance to this lamentable departure from charity 
 and veracity, which, it is mortifying to observe, 
 commonly marks the e very-day gossip of the 
 world. Let precision in every statement dis- 
 tinguish what you say, remembering that a little 
 lie or a little uncharitabieness, is no better than 
 a little theft. Be slow to speak those reports to 
 smother's disadvantage, which find so ready a 
 circulation and are so eagerly believed, though 
 every day's experience shows us that a large pro- 
 portion of them are unfounded and false. In a 
 word, be convinced that levity, uncharitabieness, 
 and falsehood, are as truly immoral and irreligi- 
 ous in the common intercourse of life, as on its 
 more solemn occasions ; that idle and injurious 
 words make a part of man's responsible character, 
 as really as blasphemy and idolatry ; and that ' if 
 any man seem to be religious, and bridle not hi* 
 tongue, that man's religion is vain. ' 
 
135 
 
 * A word spoken in season, how good it is ' 
 Why should you not do all in your power to ele- 
 vate the tone of conversation, and render the in- 
 tercourse of man with man more rational and 
 profitable ? Let your example of cheerful, inno- 
 cent, blameless words, in which neither folly 
 nor austerity shall find place, exhibit the upright- 
 ness and purity of a mind, controlled by habitual 
 principle, and be a recommendation of the religi- 
 on you profess. Let the authority of that faith to 
 which you support every other department of 
 your character, be extended to those moments, 
 not the least important, in which you exercise the 
 peculiar capacity of a rational being in the inter- 
 change of thought. Never let it be said of your 
 tongue, which Watts has truly called * the glory 
 of our frame, ' that with it you bless God, and at 
 the same time make its habitual carelessness a 
 curse to men, who are formed in the similitude 
 of God. 
 
 The influence of the principle which rules with- 
 in, should thus be seen in all your deportment 
 and intercourse, on every occasion and in every 
 relation. Your outward life should be but the 
 manifestation and expression of the temper which 
 prevails within, the acting-out of the sentiments 
 which abide there ; so that all who see you may 
 understand, without your saying it in words, how 
 supreme with you is the authority of conscience, 
 
136 
 
 how reverent your attacliment to truth, how sa- 
 cred your adherence to duty, how full of good- 
 will to men, and how devoutly submissive to God, 
 the habitual tenor of your mind. Your spontane- 
 ous, unconstrained action, flowing without effort 
 from your feelings amid the events of every day, 
 should be the unavoidable expression of a spirit 
 imbued with high and heaven-ward desires ; so 
 that, as in the case of the Apostles, those who saw 
 them, * took knowledge of them that they had 
 been with Jesus, ' it may in like manner be ob- 
 vious with regard to yourself. And this may be 
 without any obtrusive display on your part, with- 
 out asking for observation, without either saying 
 or hinting, * Come, see my zeal for the Lord. » 
 The reign of a good principle in tlie soul carries 
 its own evidence in the life, just as that of a good 
 government is visible on the face of society. A 
 man of a disinterested and pious mind, bears the 
 signature of it in his whole deportment. His 
 Lord's mark is on his forehead. We may say of 
 his inward principle, which an Apostle has called 
 * Christ formed within us, ' as was said of Christ 
 himself during his beneficent ministry ; — It * can- 
 not be hid. ' There is an atmosphere of excellence 
 about such a man, which gives savour of his good- 
 ness to all who approach, and through which the 
 internal light of his soul beams out upon all ob- 
 servers. Consequently, if you allow yourself in a 
 
187 
 
 deportment inconsistent with Christian upright- 
 ness, propriety, and charity, you are guilty of 
 bringing contradiction and disgrace on the prin- 
 ciples which you profess ; you expose yourself to 
 the charge of hypocritically maintaining truths to 
 which you do not conform yourself. You dis- 
 honor your religion by causing it to appear une-* 
 qual to that dominion over the human character 
 which it claims to exert. All men know that if 
 • the salvation reigned within, ' it would regulate 
 the movements of the life as surely as the inter- 
 nal motions of the watch are indicated on its face ; 
 if the hands point wrong, they know, without 
 looking further, that there is disorder within. 
 That disorder they will attribute either to the in- 
 capacity of the principle, or to your unfaithful- 
 ness in applying it. But what is of far greater 
 importance, the holy and unerring judgment of 
 God will ascribe it to the single cause of your 
 own unfaithfulness, and for all your wanderings 
 from Christian constancy, and all the consequent 
 dishonor to the Christian name, you must bear 
 the shame and reproach in the final day of account. 
 You perceive how urgent is the call for per- 
 petual watchfulne«^ and rigid self-discipline. It 
 is not easy, with m.uch intentional guard over 
 yourself, to keep the spirit habitually right in this 
 giddy and tempting world ; and it is equally diffi- 
 cult to maintain a perfect coincidence between the 
 N 2 
 
138 
 
 pi inciple within and the deportment of daily life. 
 Oftentimes, in the emergencies and hurry of busi- 
 ness, pleasure, and society, where many things 
 concur to drown the voice of the spirit within, we 
 find the lower propensities and affections of our 
 nature gaining an ascendency, and the law in our 
 members rising in rebellion against the law in 
 our mind. * The things that we would, we do 
 not, and the things that we would not, those we 
 do ' ; and sense and passion triumph for the mo- 
 ment over reason and faith. * The flesh lusteth 
 against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh, 
 and these are contrary the one to the other. ' And 
 how shall we gain the victory in this perpetual 
 contest? * Through our Lord Jesus Christ,' says 
 the Apostle ; and the means thereto are found in 
 his injunction, * Watch and pray, that ye enter 
 not into temptation. ' Vigilance over every hour 
 and in every engagement, carrying into them the 
 shie Id of faith and the whole armor of God ; and 
 prayer, without ceasing, that your soul may be 
 strong to wield them ; — these will secure to you 
 the victory. Sometimes you will find yourself in 
 perplexities and straits, sometimes faultering and 
 irresolute ; but never forsaken or cast down, never 
 exposed to temptation which you are unable to 
 bear, or from which there is no way of escape. 
 You may * do all things through Christ who 
 strengtheneth you. ' 
 
1S9 
 
 1 have thus spoken of that religious discipline 
 of daily life, in which the Christian character is 
 formed and tried. It will be sullicient to add in 
 conclusion, that your great concern must be with 
 two things, — your principles, and your habits. 
 
 First, you must constantly have an eye to your 
 principles. Take care that they be kept pure, 
 and that you abide by them. They have been well 
 compared to the compass of the ship, on which if 
 the helmsman keeps a faithful eye, and resolutely 
 steers by it in spite of the opposition of winds and 
 waves, he will find the way to his port ; but by 
 heedless inattention to it he is sure to go astray, 
 and be blown whither he would not. Be assured 
 that it is only by adherence to principle, in reso- 
 lute defiance of inclination, opposition, present 
 interest, and worldly solicitation, that you can en- 
 sure the steady progress of your soul, and its final 
 arrival in heaven. Neglect it, and you are at the 
 mercy of circumstances, tossed helpless on the 
 waters of chance, exposed to the bufi'etings of 
 temptation without the pow er of resistance, and a 
 sure prey of the destroyer. You must find your 
 safety in the strength of your principle ; and that 
 strength lies in the original power of conscience, 
 and the added authority of the divine word. Here- 
 in is the * still small voice ' of heaven ; and he 
 that will * cover his face ' from the world and obe- 
 diently listen to it, may become morally om- 
 nipotent. 
 
140 
 
 Secondly, have an eye to your habits. xVdd 
 to the authority of principle the vigor and stead- 
 fastness of confirmed habit, and your religious 
 character becomes almost impregnable to assault. 
 It is in no danger of overthrow, except from the 
 most cunning assailants in a season of your most 
 culpable negligence. What wisdom and kind- 
 ness has the Creator displayed in our constitu- 
 tion, that we are able to rear around our virtue 
 the strong bulwark of habit ! It is a defence of 
 the weakest spirit against the strongest trial. 
 Through the pov/er of habits early formed, how 
 many have stood in exposed places, and been un- 
 aflected by solicitations to sin, beneath which 
 others have fallen, who trusted to their good pur- 
 poses, but had never confirmed and invigorated 
 them in action. How often, for example, has the 
 young man from a retired situation, — educated in 
 the bosom of a virtuous family, and under the eye 
 of a watchful father, thence sent forth to the new 
 scenes of a city life under the protection of good 
 principles and a sincere purpose to do well, — 
 been found weak and wanting in the exposure, and 
 been carried away headlong by the tide of tempta- 
 tion, because his early habits were suited only for 
 seclusion, and his principles were guarded by none 
 which could secure them against the novel assaults 
 that were made upon them. While on the other 
 hand, young men brought up in the midst of these 
 
U1 
 
 solicitations to sio, with far less inculcation of 
 principle, are oftentimes enabled, through the 
 mere strength which habit imparts, to resist them 
 all, and live in the midst of them as if they were 
 not. 
 
 It cannot be necessary to multiply examples. 
 You well know what a slave man is to his habitu- 
 al indulgences, and how the customary routine of 
 his life, and methods of employment tyrannize 
 over him, and how frequently one strives in vain 
 to free himself from their dominion. The old 
 proverb is every day verified before you, of the 
 skin of the Ethiopian and the spots of the leopard. 
 But, if thus powerful for evil, habit is no less 
 powerful for good. If, in some cases it be strong- 
 er than principle, and defy all the expostulations 
 of religion, even when the miserable man is con- 
 vinced -that his safety lies in breaking from it ; 
 then, when enlisted as the ally of principle, when 
 coupled with faith, and made the fellow-worker 
 of piety, how unspeakable may be its aid toward 
 the security and permanence of virtue. 
 
 Take heed, therefore, to your habits. Allow 
 yourself to form none but such as are innocent, 
 and such as may help your efforts to do well. In 
 the arrangement of your business, in the methods 
 of your household and family, in the disposal of 
 your time, in the choice, seasons, and mode of 
 your recreation, in your love of company, and 
 
142 
 
 your selection of books, — in these preserve a sim- 
 ple and blameless taste. Do not allow any of them 
 to be such as shall offer an obstacle to sei^ious 
 thought, and induce a state of feeling indisposed 
 to religious exercises. Especially do not allow 
 them so to enter the frame and texture of your 
 life, that every effort of virtue and devotion shall 
 be a pitched battle vrith some cherished inclina- 
 tion, or sturdy habit. This is to increase most 
 unwisely and needlessly the trials and perils of a 
 religious course. It is to raise up for yourself 
 obstacles and difficulties, beyond those which pro- 
 perly belong to your situation. Rather, there- 
 fore, arrange every thing in your customary pur- 
 suits and indulgences, to favor the grand end of 
 your being ; so that every act of piety and faith 
 shall be coincident with it ; so that little or no 
 effort shall be required to maintain the steady or- 
 der of daily duty ; and instead of an opposition, a 
 struggle, a contest, whenever principle asserts its 
 claims, you shall find the ready consent and hearty 
 co-operation of all the habitual preferences, tastes, 
 and occupations of your life. He in whom this 
 is so, is the happy man. He is the consistent man. 
 He is the man to be congratulated, to be admired, 
 to be imitated. Universal harmony reigns within 
 him ; no oppositions, no jarring contentions mar 
 his peace. With him the flesh and the spirit are 
 no longer contrary the one to the other. His duty 
 
143 
 
 and bis inclination are all one. There is no dis- 
 pute between wbat be ought to do, and what be 
 wishes to do. But with one consenting voice, 
 heart and life move on harmoniously, accustomed 
 to and loving the same things. To him the yoke 
 is indeed easy and the burden light. To him 
 heaven is already begun ; and when be is wel- 
 comed at last to the joy of bis Lord, it will be to 
 a joy which bis regulated spirit has already tasted 
 in the labors and pleasures of obedience below. 
 
 END 
 
T. B. -WRIGHT PRINTEK, SWIF^T 8 OOU RT, CASTLE STREET, 
 LIVEEPOOt. 
 
DATE DUE 
 
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