tt. « 
 
 LV 772 .C487 1836 
 Church, Pharcellus, 1801- 
 
 1886. 
 The philosophy of 
 
 V p n p _v o 1 p n r* p 
 
 — tS^ 
 
THE 
 
 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 PHARCELLUS CHURCH, A. M, 
 
 BOCHESTE B , N. Y. 
 
 bi jf^pUfievoi TO) KOffiioi b)S /"J /tara^^pw/xsvot. — PAUL. 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY LEAVITT, LORD & CO. 
 
 180 Broadway. 
 
 boston: CROCKER &, BREWSTER. 
 
 1836. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand 
 eight hundred and thirty-six, by Lbavitt, Lord &. Co., in the Clerk's 
 Ofl&ce of the Southern District of New-YorK. 
 

 
 This work is designed for men of conscience and common 
 sense, for men who desire to subjugate their physical existence 
 to the higher sanctions of reason and divine revelation. 
 Such as have not the moral courage to attempt an achievement 
 of this exalted character, or who prefer to float with the current 
 of passion, customs, and habit, rath erthan suffer the incon- 
 venience of resisting it, will derive little advantage from its 
 perusal. To those, however, who profess to live for eternity, 
 who seek for the triumph of mind over matter ; or even to those 
 whose eelf-love would lead them to prefer what is upon the 
 whole best to every injurious gratification of present feelings, 
 we trust that these pages will prove not only interesting, but of 
 service in accomplishing the high purposes of their existence. 
 If a pagan historian could record for the instruction of poster- 
 ity, that "the true use of riches is to employ them so that they 
 may be for the owner's honor," and a heathen emperor could 
 say in sorrow of the day in which no notable action for the 
 good of others was performed, " I have lost a day," what 
 should be the feelings of Christians, who have no plans for 
 making either time or money subserve the interests of that 
 world for whom their Master gave his life 1 
 
 Much as we hear about the obligations to charity, forcible 
 as the pleas are which are continually reiterated in the public 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 ear to call forth the means of doing good, and liberal as the 
 offerings of benevolence are still, we are not aware that 
 any attempt has hitherto been made to condense into one 
 view the reasons of this duty, or to analyze its elementary 
 principles. This is a desideratum in the cause of humanity 
 that remains to be supplied. 
 
 That it will be found in these pages we do not pretend, 
 but only that they furnish an attempt in this department, which 
 may perhaps operate as a spur to investigation, and thus lead 
 on to the accomplishment of a work, without which all our be- 
 nevolent machinery must be disordered in its movements 
 and inefficient in its results. Whatever momentum it may 
 acquire from accidental causes, still its play, in the absence of 
 the balance wheel of principle, will be fitful and un wieldly. 
 The ethics of money must be explored, the bearings of the 
 natural and revealed economy upon the duty of beneficence 
 must be brought to light, and the result must be thrown out 
 upon the public mind and conscience as the clouds scatter their 
 fertilizing contents over the soil, before the golden harvest 
 can be expected to pour its annual products into the granaries 
 of benevolence in any degree proportioned to the necessities 
 of human nature. 
 
 Though the work is designed more expressly for those who 
 are pledged by their professions to act upon the principles of 
 truth, yet the course which it marks out in reference to the use 
 and pursuit of earthly treasures is alike the duty and the 
 privilege of all. If we mistake not, it furnishes the only safe 
 policy for directing the productive powers at our command, 
 or for disposing of the results of those powers, yea, the only 
 policy by which these results can be secured against becoming 
 sooner or later an engine of misery to the individual or family 
 to whom they belong. The right use of earthly possessions, 
 whatever it may be, it must be conceded on all hands, is 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 the use by which they will be made instrumenta of the 
 greatest good to their owners and to general society. That 
 is the true political economy, that is the high road to national 
 wealth . 
 
 Whatever may be the fate of our investigations, as the sub- 
 ject to which they are directed bears upon a point which ab- 
 sorbs the strongest passions of our nature and the principal 
 energies of our lives, we are sure that the well being of human 
 society requires for it more attention than it usually receives. 
 What is the object of our golden dreams in youth, of our vig- 
 orous exertions in manhood ; or what absorbs the anxieties of 
 decrepit age 3 Wherefore this incessant running to and fro 
 of the insect man upon the orb which he calls his own, this en- 
 compassing of earth and ocean, this opening of subterranean 
 caverns, this sturdy encounter with polar snows or tropical 
 suns 1 Oh, it is all to make money. This is the charming 
 goddess whose dulcet voice allures thousands upon the rocks 
 of infamy and ruin. Can any inquiries, therefore, concerning 
 the use or intention of an object around which so many inter- 
 ests cluster, be uncalled for or unimportant ] 
 
 It is perhaps to be regreted that the writer has met with 
 so little which has been said on this subject, that seemed to be 
 of service in the prosecution of his plan. This is owing doubt- 
 less to the peculiar nature of that plan, or to its uniting topics 
 which have hitherto been kept too remote from each other. 
 The political economist, in discussing the manner of produ- 
 cing, distributing, and comsuming wealth, has omitted the 
 ethics or religion of the subject, which is the only key by 
 which it can be unlocked ; and has confined himself to the 
 mere calculation of loss and gain. Whereas no fact is more 
 comnwn-place than that dollars may be gained without gain- 
 ing happiness, and that they may be lost without a loss of 
 happiness. Yet, from their capacity to cunfer happiness, dol- 
 lars derive all their value. It is arguing to little purpose, 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 therefore, to show how the most wealth may be scraped up, 
 when the question of how the most ^ood may be done is 
 wholly omitted. Wealth in the hands of a nation without 
 virtue is like edged tools in the hands of a mad-man. The 
 great point to be determined therefore is, how the products of 
 human industry may be turned to the greatest particular and 
 the greatest general advantage. And, while the labors of the 
 mere political economist are of little service to our plan, those 
 which have resulted from the recent benevolent movements 
 are too detached or too specific for our purpose. They exist 
 in fragments spread out through innumerable reports, ad- 
 dresses, or periodicals ; and when they are collected, they are 
 found to bear upon this or that particular enterprize of be- 
 nevolence, instead of dealing in general principles. Yet, we 
 must confess ourselves indebted for many valuable hints to 
 both these sources. The works of Say on political economy 
 have been of special service in the article upon unproductive 
 consumption. 
 
 The characters introduced are designed to illustrate the 
 principles of the work, to diversify its matter, and give it an 
 adaptation to real life. The air of fiction thrown over them is 
 more seeming than real. The writer has had his eye out upon 
 the world for a number of years, and he has endeavored to 
 give a faithful drawing of the scenes which have passed before 
 him. 
 
 To God, to the church, to the cause of suffering human 
 nature we commit these humble pages, with the hope that 
 the good may exceed what the means would seem to promise. 
 If they are of the least service in teaching how to manage the 
 stewardship of worldly property, or if they turn a single rill 
 of mercy upon the parched soil of human destitution, the writer 
 will be more than compensated for all his labor. 
 
psiitg^toit ^, 
 \thsologig&l /^' 
 
 Chapter I. 
 
 Religious duty adapted to the complexity of human nature — ten- 
 dency to extremes. Story of Dominico 13 
 
 Chapter II. 
 
 Showing that the perversion of the above principles is common 
 in the church of this age — instances ia the case of Mr. La- 
 tham — his conversion — his predominant passion — call upon 
 him for charity — conversation— remarks of the lawyer. Past 
 corruptions— their present influence— absurdity. Conviction 
 of Mr. L.— his confession — others like him 17 
 
 Chapter III. 
 
 Present earthliness of the church — its influence in disposal of 
 
 estates, as instanced in Deacon Brooks of •. Atheism of 
 
 Christians— alarming case— defective conversions—partial 
 consecration — objection considered — absence of principle- 
 Ancestry of Deacon B.— his covetous father— his habits and 
 taste — want of spirituality. Country seat— danger of lux- 
 ury — reception — resistance — conversation — conclusion—invis- 
 ible influences 31 
 
 Chapter IV. 
 
 Principles that should guide us in the use of our pecuniary re- 
 sources. History of W . Narrative of G n. Na- 
 ture and Bible coincident— the rich made poor — how to get 
 rich— devoting wealth to God— how it is to be done— system- 
 atic charity— poor in mind and morals — charity in design. 
 
 Mr. W ,— his design fails— pious economy. Narrative of 
 
 G n— excellent plan • •. • • 51 
 
 Chapter V. 
 
 Uses of wealth — its omnipotent influence— whence cornes it ? — 
 love of money as an absolute principle — horric. passion— -ad- 
 vantages of wealth must measure our passion fpr it — reaction^ 
 
8 CONTENTS. 
 
 Poetry of Dr. Leyden— no need of such feelings. Uses of 
 wealth are — 1, means of support — 2, of intellectual and moral 
 improvement — 3, provision for future use and need — 4, embel- 
 lishment and luxury— 5, favorable regards of society 67 
 
 Chapter VI. 
 
 Vindication of systematic beneficence by arguments drawn from 
 the principles of our nature, and the constitution of things- 
 personal benefits— provision for one's family— feelings of hu- 
 manity—love of offspring— its design not mistaken. Dic- 
 tates of benevolence— utility of the principle — idea of sacri- 
 fice — objects of desire taxed. Wealth supremely adored — 
 nature all reciprocity — matter improved by religion. Eden 
 restored • 85 
 
 Chapter VII. 
 
 Superabundant results of well-directed industry corroborate the 
 duty of systematic beneficence — cumulation of evidence— pro- 
 ductiveness of industry— vast profusion of expense. Wealth 
 of earth and ocean— causes of poverty — bad governments — 
 drones. Unequal distribution of labor— primary sources of 
 wealthy— object of our superabundance— designed as a pro- 
 vision of mercy — what is best for children. Fall of the four 
 great monarchies. Children trained to action— ruined by 
 patrimonies 103 
 
 Chapter VIII. 
 
 Examination of the question, whether unproductive consumption 
 is necessary to keep the market good — golden mediuni— 
 evils of sumptuousness — all wealth made useful. Acquisi- 
 tions in science — Newton. Alleviation of wo — Howard. 
 Market ruined by waste — complexity of the subject — fool- 
 ish reasoning — wheat-growers — refined system of robbery — 
 poverty made poorer — appearances deceitful — good pohcy is 
 the law of the church. God's care of mind and morals — 
 millennium kept back 119 
 
 Chapter IX. 
 
 Alarming consequences of having a passion for wealth become 
 predominant Necessity of that restraint upon this passion, 
 which arises from the habitual beslowment of charitable gra- 
 tuities. Life and death of Mr. James Harding 135 
 
 Chapter X, 
 
 General view of the argument from the Bible— how to view the 
 Bible on this subject— piety same in all ages—elements of 
 
CONTENTS. 9 
 
 duty identical — occult bearings of revealed truth— Bible, 
 book of ultimate facta— its teachings on this subject not felt 153 
 
 Chapter XI. 
 
 Inquiry into the proportion of our income which we are bound to 
 devote to God. Law of tithes — is it binding 1— benevolent 
 principle promises more— advanced state of religion — a pro- 
 
 fressive principle — necessity of vent to our surplus stores — 
 ow to prevent inflammation— moral and intellectual destitu- 
 tion—how to be secure against evil of riches— proportion of 
 labor due to wealth. Mind subjected to matter— matter the 
 BcafFolding to ruin — ultimate object of pious offerings. The 
 reign of Christ on earth — this object calls as loudly as ever — 
 how to interpret the commands of Christ — church organized 
 for war — vast territories yet to be subdued — direct efforts of 
 ail the church needed. Project of a confluence of bloods. 
 Lay-agencies in doing good — primitive church in our circum- 
 stances—offering proportioned to our ability— care in judging 
 of a man's ability— debts contracted as an excuse for not 
 giving— sin of inequality— must be corrected •• 161 
 
 Chapter XII. 
 
 Doctrine of entire consecration — found in the first precept of the 
 law — claim of the law original and universal. God's right 
 covers all the phases of our being— God the same in the Bible 
 as in providence— ties by which the church is bound to God — 
 anomaly filling angels with amazement. Example of Mace- 
 donian converts — dimax of the argument for charity, found 
 in the sacrifice of Christ — charity arising from the first im- 
 pulses of faith— effects of consecration in the first church.... 189 
 
 Chapter XIII. 
 
 Vanity and danger of a passion for wealth— passion for wealth 
 denounced — direct effects of heaping up — last scene of the 
 dismal drama— wealth neutralizecl — Solomon's experience of 
 the vanity of riches— his declming years betrayed into sin 
 —love of riches renders all a wreck— the rich fool— his man- 
 ner of acquiring unexceptionable 203 
 
 Chapter XIV. 
 
 The progress of true religion, as traced in the Scriptures, is con- 
 nected with a like progression in the sacrifice of money upon 
 its objects— pious ambition to be like God— origin of pecu- 
 niary offerings— extraordinary calls— Noah— rate of sacrifice 
 —patriarchal age. The Mosaic law— reign of David and Solo- 
 mon—the temple— subsequent reigns— return from captivity. 
 Sacrifices of Christ. Zaccheus. Day of Pentecost. Agen- 
 cies—primitive churches -... 213 
 
10 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter XV. 
 
 A spirit greedy of the world is represented, not only as closing 
 the gates of life, but as an object of peculiar maledictions. 
 World used, but not used out. Flechier. Limited use of a 
 right. Ananias and Sapphira. Purposes of Judas — avarice 
 his predominant passion. Cause of his sin an universal element 
 of character. Love of wealth keeps men from Christ. Ava- 
 ricious lake. Atmosphere of Heaven — Ephraim's sin— Job's 
 imprecation— language of the psalms. Motives for exclusive 
 use of money — Haunted dwellings of wealth. Evidence of 
 nature and revelation 235 
 
 Chapteh XVI. 
 
 Explicit enactments. Harmony of religion with the real world- 
 sympathy necessary — verbal sanction to the laws of nature — 
 indiscriminate beneficence. Giving alms— nothing unclean — 
 contributions diminished with increasing ability— no religion 
 salutary that is not merciful— destitution demanding relief- •• 251 
 
 Chapter XVIL 
 
 Scripture motives to beneficence — promises of temporal reM^ard. 
 
 History of B , — motives to beneficence — promises of 
 
 temporal reward 263 
 
 Chapter XVHL 
 Further motives to beneficence 283 
 
 Chapter XIX. 
 
 General remarks upon plans of benevolent enterprise — objects of 
 
 beneficence— plans of benevolent effor* — division of topics 295 
 
 Section I. 
 Origination of benevolent funds 393 
 
 Section II. 
 Manner of collecting benevolent funds 311 
 
 Section HI. 
 
 The principle of concentration as applied to charitable contribu- 
 tions 319 
 
CONTENTS. 11 
 
 Section IV. 
 
 Executive management of benevolent funds— college of benevo- 
 lence—Methodism, its organization — rivalry of societies — 
 drafts upon city pastors— board of supervision— danger of 
 accumulations— experience against accumulations— diver- 
 sion of funds from their design— funds for literary purposes 
 —each generation its own purveyor 326 
 
 Conclusion. 
 
 Union of Protestant sects — benevolence never made the basis 
 of a sect — iaea of a sect that should be so formed. Import- 
 ance of benevolence to our nation — causes of prosperity, 
 those of peril as well. Lessons of the past— power of our 
 resources well employed— effort at guidmg them, a duty 347 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 Table of Contents, Chapter II., second line, "instanced" should 
 1)6 used instead of " instances." 
 
 " Matter the scafFolding to ?ni??cZ," not "scaffolding to ruin" as 
 in the heading page 173, and again in Table of Contents, page 9. 
 
 ^^ and burning incense," not " a burning, dbc." as on page 196. 
 
 First word of the seventh line on p. 2l7, should be "when," in- 
 stead of "where." 
 
 " To eat the fat of the land," not " Go eat, &c." page 223. 
 
 "censers," instead of " censors," on page 226. " Stones," which 
 s the last word on the same page, should be stricken out altogether. 
 
 In the eighth line from the bottom, page 239, " saring" should be 
 used, not " sai/ing." 
 
 " Cause of /lis ^in," not "cause of sin," as in heading on p. 242. 
 
 Tenth Ime from top, p. 252, " how is it possible," not " how it is 
 oossible." 
 
 Tenth line from bottom, p. 290, "awaiting our arrival," noi 
 '^should await, &c." 
 
 P. 345, "organizations," not "organization." 
 

 
 PHILOSOPHY OF BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 Religious duty adapted to the complexity of human nature.— Story of 
 Dominico. 
 
 In the laws which God has given to regulate our con- 
 duct in this life, we are regarded as sustaining the double 
 relation of matter and spirit. The duties they enjoin are 
 not exclusively, either such as our physical condition ren- 
 ders necessary ,or such as our moral and intellectual charac- 
 ter requires. But they take a course between these ex- 
 tremes ; and the same inspiration which teaches us that the 
 love of God is an indispensable ingredient of true piety, 
 teaches also with equal clearness, that pure religion con- 
 sists in visiting the fatherless and widow in their afflictions. 
 
 A disregard of this complexity in our character and du- 
 ties, whether it be theoretical or practical, is a source of in- 
 numerable mistakes and incalculable evils to men. What 
 absurdities have arisen on the one hand, from conceiving 
 that the work of religion is confined to the department of 
 2 
 
14 TENDENCY TO EXTREMES. 
 
 spirit, and on the other, from making its duties wholly ex- 
 ternal. As the bodp^ithout the spirit is a nauseous car- 
 cass, so the spirit without the body, is a frightful spectre ; 
 it is only by their conjunction that man is fitted to a life 
 among these material elements. So, it is only by a con- 
 junction of those duties which respect the soul with those 
 which respect the body, that a useful and well-balanced 
 character is formed. The tendency of human nature has 
 always been to these extremes. Material, or temporal 
 good, however, as it attracts with much the greater force, 
 draws to itself by far the greater part ; and they live for 
 naught but to enjoy pleasure, to amass wealth, to gratify 
 the lust of power, or in some other way, or in all these 
 ways combined, to pay unceasing homage to the gods of 
 this world. 
 
 Others, in their pious zeal to avoid this extreme, and 
 to inhale a purely spiritual element, have contemned phy- 
 sical enjoyments, have affected superiority to every earthly 
 duty and interest, have devoted themselves to a life of ab- 
 straction, and thus, have formed ghastly and fearful cha- 
 racters, that glare like meteors in the absence of a more 
 genial light. Infinite mischief has been done to the cause of 
 religion, by representing it as invested in unearthly habil- 
 iments, and by attempting to build the heavenly structure 
 upon the ruins of humanity. A religion without the power 
 of placing one foot on a spiritual, and the other, on a ma- 
 terial basis, like the angel who stood on the sea and the dry 
 land, is not adapted to improve the condition of a being 
 uniting elements so opposite as those which enter into the 
 composition of man. And it may be difficult to say 
 
STORt OF DOMINICO. 15 
 
 whence the more plagues have gone abroad to poison the 
 moral atmosphere of the world, from the seclusion of the 
 ■convent, or from the schools of atheism. 
 
 But the foundation of God standeth sure, and the actions 
 and exercises in which he makes piety consist, are now, 
 as they always have been, duly adjusted to our character 
 and circumstances. In vain do we aspire at the sublime 
 privilege of praising our Maker, if he can admit of no 
 praise but such as angels offer. They are great in power 
 and might, and soar to an eminence above the reach 
 of our giddy reason. Their duties are suited to the 
 elevation of their circumstances, but not to the lowliness of 
 ours. The laws by which we are to be governed, are 
 adapted to our condition, enjoining such duties as are suit- 
 ed to the complexity of our characters, such as we are 
 capable of performing, and as will, when performed, afford 
 us a greater amount of enjoyment, both from matter and 
 spirit, than can be secured by any other course. 
 
 A recluse, it is said, living in the early ages of Chris- 
 tianity, betook himself to a cave in Upper Egypt, which 
 in the time of the Pharaohs, had been a depository of 
 mummies, and there lived to pray, to converse with the 
 spirits of the dead, and to mortify himself, eating only 
 dates, and drinking the water of the Nile. At length, be- 
 coming weary of life, he prayed one day more fervently 
 than ever, and then sinking exhausted into a profound 
 sleep, there appeared to him a vision of an angel in a 
 dream, commanding him to rise and cut down a neighboring 
 palm tree, and make a rope of its fibres, after which the 
 angel promised to appear to him again. Upon awaking 
 
16 STORY OF DOMINICO. 
 
 the hermit instantly resolved to obey the vision, and tray- 
 elling from place to place for many days before he could 
 procure an ax, he found himself, while thus employed, 
 happier than he had been for many years. His prayers, 
 though shorter and fewer than those he had been accus- 
 tomed to offer, out-measured them in fervor and effect. 
 Having returned with the ax, he cut down the tree, and 
 with much labor and assiduity for a long time, prepared 
 the fibres to make the rope, and by daily occupation, after 
 some weeks he had completed the command. According 
 to promise, the celestial visiter that night appeared again > 
 and said, " Dominico, you are now no longer weary of 
 life, but happy. Know then that man was made for labor, 
 as well as for prayer, the one being not less essential to his 
 welfare than the other. Arise in the morning, take the 
 cord, with it gird up thy loins, go forth into the world, and 
 let it be a memorial to thee, that God expects from man, 
 if he would be happy, a course duly adjusted both to his 
 animal and to his spiritual nature." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Showing that the perversion of the above principles is common in the 
 church of this age, as instanced in the case of Mr. Latham. 
 
 Happy would it be if the above truths were as com- 
 mon-place in practice as they are in principle ; and that 
 the absurdity of every violation of them were as quickly 
 perceived and reprobated as some of the more flagrant- 
 To convince us that those 
 
 "in monkish cells and nunneries found," 
 
 who contemn their bodies, withdraw from all the duties 
 and sympathies of social life, and affect already to have 
 abandoned the material for the spiritual world, have total- 
 ly mistaken the nature of religious obligation, requires 
 neither argument nor description. We instantly perceive 
 and feel it, and are in little danger of being drawn into 
 practices so absurd and unnatural. These are nocturnal 
 animals, which, though lively and active, while the gloom 
 of midnight hung over the human mind, skulked into their 
 lairs upon the first dawn of reason and intelligence. And 
 yet, are we perfectly free from that undue leaning to spirit 
 which we are so forward to condemn in the recluse ? Can 
 we detect no failure to secure that equipoise of character 
 between matter and spirit, which, it is the chief aim and 
 glory of religion to promote ? A pound will turn the scale 
 as well as a ton ; so we may as really lose the happy 
 2* 
 
18 MR. LATHAM. 
 
 balance of truth and propriety by slighter variations from 
 the foregoing principles, as by the most flagranti 
 
 How many at the commencement of their Christian 
 career, are so intent upon the joys of a young hope, and the 
 fervors of a first love, as to forget that there are widows to 
 be relieved, poor to be fed, and sick to be visited. Lost in 
 a forest of emotions, they are as averse to coming out among 
 the abodes of men, and enlisting in positive efforts for the 
 alleviation of their miseries, as the monk in his cell. Yea, 
 nothing would perhaps sooner damp their glowing sensa- 
 tions, than to be seriously pressed to the expenditure of 
 money upon even the worthiest object that benevolence 
 could devise. Unlike Zaccheus, they do not take the 
 trouble to inquire whether they have no reparations to 
 make for ill-gotten gains. By their repentance, faith, and 
 spiritual graces, they hope to make amends for every 
 previous act of injustice ; and imagine that they have now 
 the privilege of enjoying, not only their newly acquired 
 stores of religious good, but their old hoards of worldly 
 treasure. Alas, that so many who have membership in 
 the church, should be absolutely incapable of seeing any 
 thing in money, but the means of supporting their fami- 
 lies, of encircling themselves with earthly comforts, and 
 advancing their children in the world ! They are willing 
 to give their religion free access to all that pertains to 
 them, if it will only keep its hands from their coffers. 
 
 Mr. John Latham was the subject of a late revival in 
 
 the town of , his convictions of sui were deep and 
 
 genuine, though somewhat protracted. He oflen express;- 
 ed to his pastor his willingness to give up every thing fco: 
 
HIS CONVERSION. 19 
 
 Christ's sake — could not see why God did not have mercy 
 on him as well as others — and sighing, would exclaim, O, 
 if money could purchase a pardon of my sins, and a cor- 
 dial for my feverish soul, how soon would I give up all I 
 possess. At length, as he stood on a May morning, view- 
 ing from an eminence his wide-spread domains, and wit- 
 nessing his flocks and herds bounding with the renovated 
 life of spring, his thoughts turned upon his own sad condi- 
 tion, and he was overwhelmed by the contrast. ' Alas ! 
 he said, * were I as innocent as yonder playful lambs, I 
 should be as gay and as buoyant as they. But I have 
 sinned. They have kept the place assigned them, but I 
 have not kept mine. 
 
 " Here in my heart the burden lies, 
 And past oiFences pain my eyes." 
 
 Then, lifting his hands to heaven, he cried with the agony 
 of a drowning man, * Lord save, or I perish.' No sooner 
 had these words escaped his lips, than the ample satisfac- 
 tion for sin which Christ had made by his death came up 
 distinctly to his view, he felt that it was for Mm,-^si ray 
 of hope darted across the gloom of his soul, his heart was 
 dissolved to tenderness, and his eyes were flooded with 
 tears. * Is it possible ! is it possible ! Why had I not seen 
 it before ?' he said, and unconsciously began to sing the 
 sweet words of the poet. 
 
 " My God is reconciled, 1 ^ . 
 
 His pardoning voice I hear, 
 He owns me for his child, 
 I can no longer fear." 
 
 Pained no more by the contrast of his feelings with 
 ^e aspect of nature, he felt that his heart was in tune to 
 
20 PREDOMINANT PASSION. 
 
 join with his flocks, and blooming fields, and waving forests^ 
 with all their feathered warblers, in praising the ' Au- 
 thor and Source of all this good to man.' His bosom 
 could not contani his joy ; but first to his family, then to 
 his pastor and neighbors he flew to speak of the glories of 
 his newly found Saviour. Mr. Latham embraced the ear- 
 liest opportunity to profess his fahh in Christ, and appeared 
 now not less fervent in spirit, than he had been through 
 life diligent in business. He established and maintained 
 worship in his family, morning and evening, he inculcated 
 religion upon his children, he mingled his prayers and ex- 
 hortations with those of his brethren in the social circle, 
 he was ready at all times to converse upon the spiritual 
 things of religion, and in every respect lut owe, gave evi- 
 dence of being a new creature. This one exception was^^ 
 that he made no perceptible change in the use of that 
 estate which he lately thought himself so willing to give up 
 for a hope in Christ. The idea of serving the Lord with 
 his substance, and with the first fruits of all his increase, 
 never entered his mind. 
 
 Having begun the world with nothing, he early inured 
 himself to that hardy industry, and frugal self-denial, which 
 are the usual attendants of a settled purpose of becoming 
 rich. This had been through life his predominant pas- 
 sion, had done more to determine his character and destiny 
 than any thing besides, and had been the prolific source 
 of many of those sins which so long fed the fires of re- 
 morse within him. In his zeal, therefore, to perform some 
 signal act of love to a Saviour who had done so much for 
 him, what was more natural than that he should have 
 
CALL FOR CHARITY. 91 
 
 thought of his property first, as the only fruit of that man- 
 ner of Hfe of which he was now ashamed, that he could turn 
 to any valuable account. One would have expected that 
 a revolution in his moral habits so remarkable, would be 
 followed by a liberal sacrifice of wealth upon the altar of 
 beneficence, or at least that the purpose of so bestowing 
 it, would have taken the precedence of family prayer, pub- 
 lic exhortation, and every other duty. The converted 
 Ephesians, under the first impulses of a heaven-born faith, 
 went even so far as to destroy outright a property in 
 books to the amount of fifty thousand pieces of silver. 
 But, owing to some cause which is oftener seen in its 
 effects than in its own nature, Mr. Latham as effectually 
 excluded his religion from all participation in the disposal 
 of his wealth, as ever a recluse did his, from all mingling 
 in the scenes of active life. 
 
 It so happened a few days after his conversion, that 
 the claims of several benevolent objects were urged upon 
 the church of which he was a member. One was, to 
 prepare the outfitof a missionary to a foreign land ; another 
 
 to educate two mute children at Asylum ; and the 
 
 third, to furnish extra supplies to their worthy pastor, 
 whose salary was small, and his family, besides being 
 large, had recently been visited by a distressing and ex- 
 pensive sickness. The solicitors for these objects, a 
 pious lawyer, and two other members of the church, know- 
 ing Mr. Latham to be rich, and withal so very zealous of 
 late, went to him with great confidence of obtaining for each 
 a liberal donation. They began their conversation by 
 some remarks on the late revival, on the happiness of 
 
22 CONVERSATION. 
 
 communion with God, on the signal display of divine 
 grace in some recent cases of conversion, and hinted at the 
 reasonableness of entire consecration to God in beings so 
 distinguished by mercy as they had been. Into this con- 
 versation Mr. L. entered with a glowing heart, and among 
 other things he expatiated on the freeness of salvation, it 
 being " without money and without price;" on the goodness 
 of God in taking the burden from poor weak creatures ; 
 his own experience having taught him, he said, how utter- 
 ly unavailing were his efforts till he viewed by faith the 
 cross of Christ, and concluded by alluding to the worth* 
 lessness of all offerings where love is absent. 
 
 Here the lawyer interrupted, by stating the object of 
 their visit. To Mr. Latham's feelings it was like water 
 thrown upon fire — he did not expect it — he demurred— said 
 as to the cause of missions, he had no objection to the 
 thing in itself — felt afraid money was not judiciously ap- 
 propriated — missionaries so far off, no knowing how they 
 spend their time or whether they do any good — should 
 think they had been among the heathen long enough to be 
 supported by their converts — those among whom they 
 labor better able to support them perhaps than we — felt 
 afraid this business would be a damper upon the revival — • 
 and a number of such half formed sentences dropped from 
 his lips. * Very well/ said one of the solicitors, ' if you have 
 so much doubt about missions you may give your money 
 to help our neighbor Saunders educate his mute children 
 at the Asylum.' Mr. Latham hesitated — < Saunders, 
 Saunders,' said he, < I have known that fellow from his 
 youth, and am certain that if he had been industrious as 
 
CONVRESATION. 23 
 
 I have been, he might educate his own children as well 
 as I can mine. Did you not know,' continued he, * that he 
 was once intemperate?' * Yes,' replied another solici- 
 tor, *but since he joined the temperance society has 
 not drank at all, and is as industrious as any of his neigh- 
 bors.' 'That makes no difference,' answered Mr. La- 
 tham, * to pay my money to prevent the consequences of 
 vice is to participate in it. I pity the poor fellow ; but 
 to his own Master he stands or falls, and God forbid that 
 I should help him stand, when perhaps he ought to fall.' 
 At this the solicitors were abashed, but determined still 
 to persevere, the lawyer observed, * Well, Mr. Latham, 
 if you have so many objections to these objects, we 
 will present a third, in which you cannot fail to be inter- 
 ested. Our esteemed pastor, you know, has had sickness 
 in his family, and it has increased his expenses beyond his 
 means of paying. A number of us have undertaken to 
 raise enough to supply the deficiency, and we are sure 
 you never will repent of doing good to him.' On 
 this point Mr. L. felt his sympathies enkindled. He recol- 
 lected the many visits his pastor had lately made him, the 
 fervor of his prayers for him, and the affection of his ad- 
 vice when he was laboring under a sense of sin ; that he 
 had administered to him the holy ordinances of the gospel ; 
 that his sermons had afforded him many a rich spiritual 
 repast — all these reminiscences rushing of a sudden upon 
 the mind of Mr. Latham, aroused his dormant feelings 
 and he exclaimed, * Certainly, certainly, I am disposed 
 to help our pastor,' and taking from his pocket a five 
 dollar bank note, he handed it to them, saying, * there, let 
 
24 REMARKS OF THE LAWYER. 
 
 that be my part of this extra allowance.' He then sat 
 in a musing posture for a moment, with a cloud lowering 
 in his countenance, when he exclaimed with great im- 
 patience, '^What a plague is money ! If that had never 
 been heard of, we should have had a feast of fat things 
 from this visit. It darkens my mind — it cools my fervor — 
 hope we shall leave these beggarly elements and seek 
 the things whereby one may edify another. Let spiritual 
 religion be the topic of conversation, and I am never 
 weary. My soul is impatient to begin the life of heaven 
 on earthly ground. Prayer and praise are my element.' 
 
 The objections of Mr. Latham to giving his money, did 
 not arise so much from covetousness, as from a habit of 
 feeling that pecuniary considerations and religion are ad- 
 verse to each other. 
 
 The lawyer perceived what the difficulty was, and 
 could not feel satisfied to leave him without making an 
 effort to bring him into better views. He therefore re- 
 plied to the following effect : 
 
 ' I think with you, Mr. L. that prayer and praise 
 are the element of a Christian spirit, which may be al- 
 ways inhaled without endangering life or health. But 
 still the soul requires for its aliment some more substantial 
 materials. We cannot live upon air. We ought not to 
 forget that we are the tenants of a material world, and 
 we cannot acquit ourselves of the duties which we owe to 
 God and men, without acting in conformity with our situ- 
 ation as such. What will be our particular mode of life 
 in heaven who can foresee ? Doubtless, however, even 
 there our energies will be taxed to their full extent^ if not 
 
PAST CORRUPTIONS. 25 
 
 in the production of changes upon matter as here, yet in 
 some way conformed to the unearthliness of our nature 
 and circumstances. For, as God is wont to assign to 
 creatures a work equal to the full extent of their capaci- 
 ties, it is preposterous to expect that heaven will be 
 merely a place of quiescent enjoyment, or that the exalted 
 powers of human nature, strengthened, expanded, and , 
 ennobled by its earthly discipline should, instead of going 
 forward in the career of achievement, sink into luxurious 
 and inglorious inaction. I hope therefore you will seri- 
 ously consider whether in giving yourself up to spiritual 
 emotions, to the neglect of your relations as an inhabitant 
 of this world, you do not as really fail of answering the 
 ends of the religion you profess, as if you lived a stranger 
 to its effects upon the soul.' 
 
 These remarks had the effect to produce in Mr. L. a 
 suspicion that he might be wrong, and he proceeded to 
 -detail the origin of his impression that religion and money 
 ought to be kept distinct, partly as an excuse for cherish- 
 ing it, and partly as a justification of the sentiment. 
 
 * Esquire ' said he, * you are much more ex- 
 perienced in the things of the kingdom than I ; but on this 
 subject I reflected before I was a Christian and made up 
 my mind ; and though I have become new in all other 
 respects, I cannot say I have in this. Some years ago I 
 read a book on church history which brought to light 
 such a tissue of abominations that had been wrought with, 
 and for money in connection with religion, as convinced 
 me that the union of the two is all of the devil. Since 
 that, whenever I hear of an attempt to associate money 
 3 
 
2(5 THEIR PRESENT INFLUENCE. 
 
 with religion, I at once think of monks and monasteries 
 with all their ghostly array, of priests in princely palaces 
 fattening on the hard earnings of the poor, of indulgences, 
 and benefices, and pious frauds, and inquisitions, and it 
 seems to me that there is no way of keeping the devil out 
 of the church but to keep money out too. I am willing 
 to do my part to support our pastor, but I choose to do it 
 as I please, and when I please, without subscribing to 
 any obligation or being spoken with on the subject. If 
 our pastor be a man of faith, as I believe he is, he will 
 not fear to trust God for his living without having men for 
 his underwriters.' 
 
 * I can appreciate your feelings,' replied the lawyer, 
 < in relation to these corruptions of the church in past 
 ages, of which money has been to a great extent either 
 the instrument or the object. I am convinced that these 
 foul pages in the history of what is called Christianity, 
 are not only propagating infidelity in the world, but irre- 
 ligious practices in the church. And even the remedy 
 which the reformation applied to these ancient abuses, has 
 had its share of influence in producing the present state 
 of things. The tendency of the human mind is to ex- 
 tremes. Because ministers were once domineering, lord- 
 ing it over God's heritage, we now deny them the autho- 
 rity which is necessary to edification. Because their in- 
 come was once enormous, we now withhold from them 
 a competent support. There is probably no class of men 
 on the face of the earth of equal talent and labor, that re- 
 ceive so little compensation. And hundreds consider what 
 they do give them as a charity, not the discharge of a 
 
ABSURDITY. 27 
 
 jost demand. Thus, their office is degraded to a con- 
 dilion of abject dependence. Being often deprived also 
 of official influence or authority, they are obliged to sup- 
 ply its place by contrivance, and a function to which in- 
 dependence is more necessary than to any other, never 
 fails to be the sport of faction, ignorance, and imbecility, 
 unless performed by hands and guided by a skill more 
 than human. The consequence is, that ministers, all but 
 the more rarely gifted, are the mere foot-balls of society, 
 to be driven from place to place as covetousness, caprice 
 and impiety may direct. And all this too, because a 
 class of vile monsters in ages past, chose to assume the 
 style of Christian ministers, to whom it no more belonged 
 than the appellation of saint does to the devil. Because 
 wicked men once made religion a lure for securing to 
 themselves unearned fortunes, must we now refuse it any 
 control over our wordly property? Why do we not 
 give up the Bible, because the devil once made it an in- 
 strument to tempt our Saviour with ? All I contend for 
 is, that religion and wealth be put upon the same basis in 
 relation to each other, that reason and the scriptures dic- 
 tate. If we plead the abuses of past ages as an argu- 
 ment against any system of religious expenditure, why 
 not plead them against sermons, prayers, and even re- 
 ligion itself, as infidels do, all of which have been as 
 much abused as pecuniary offerings. I have long been 
 in the habit of assigning to the much that has been said 
 and written against privileged orders in the church, an 
 important influence among the causes that have produced 
 our present disregard to the claims which God and hu. 
 
28 CONVICTION OF ME. L. 
 
 manity make upon our wordly income. Yet, it is no ei^ 
 cuse, no, not any !' 
 
 This conversation, all the particulars of which we 
 need not detail, had its desired effect upon the mind of 
 Mr. L. producing in him a change scarcely less remark- 
 able, than his previous conversion from sin to holiness. 
 The struggle however was severe, and it was long be- 
 fore he could make up his mind to serve the Lord with 
 his property, as well as with his spirit. No sooner had 
 his mind become settled, than with a frankness peculiarly 
 characteristic of the man, he came forward to the church 
 and stated the process through which he had passed, and 
 the result to which he had come. His remarks made a 
 deep impression and led to the happiest consequences to 
 the whole body. 
 
 * My Friends,' said he, * I am a mystery to myself. 
 Two months ago, I was as confident as I am at this mo- 
 ment that Christ was all in all to my soul, that his ward 
 was sweeter to my taste than honey or the honeycomb, 
 that his cause was all that I had to live for, and that 
 dying I had the joyful hope of praising him forever. But 
 with all these feelings, I confess to you, that the thought 
 of serving him in the use of my money never entered my 
 mind. Instead of this, I placed my religion at an infinite 
 remove from all participation in my wordly affairs, and 
 dreaded their contact like that of ice with the fire at 
 which I would warm in a cold day. But, when there are 
 so many ways of doing good with my wordly substance, 
 how I should have been so spell-bound as not to see it, is 
 astonishing. It seems to me that it must have been of the 
 
HIS CONFESSION. 29 
 
 devil to prevent the injury I should otherwise inflict upon 
 his kingdom. Lord, open my eyes, is my prayer ; for 
 such a field of glorious labor was hid from me then, how 
 do I know but some one equally interesting and important 
 is hid from me now ! But I bless the Lord for the pri- 
 vilege of entering upon this, and I pray him for grace to 
 enter upon all others that may open to my view. Yes, 
 brethren, in the dead hours of midnight — glory be to 
 God ! in the dead hours of midnight, I have met with my 
 Saviour, and have entered into a solemn covenant with him 
 to consecrate all the proceeds of my property to his service, 
 beyond a reasonable supply for myself and family. For 
 I have already accumulated enough, and I fear more than 
 enough. I ask for no more, I want no more, except as a 
 means of doing good. It cost me an awful struggle to 
 come to this resolve — my covetous heart rebelled ; I 
 thought my objections to giving were all religious, but 
 when I came to canvass them, I found them selfish, 
 wicked, damnable. But God has given me grace to tri. 
 umph over them, and since I have, the peace of heaven 
 has been poured into my heart like a river. I never 
 looked on my farm, and flocks and herds with such eyes 
 of delight as I do at this moment. They have afibrded 
 me more happiness since I gave them to God, than they 
 ever did before. I see in them the means of multiplying 
 Bibles, tracts, Sunday schools, missionaries, of providing 
 instruction for seamen, and of doing good in many ways 
 to the bodies and souls of men. Blessed be God, on my 
 farm, at my plough, among my flocks and herds, and ^f, 
 market, I can be a messenger of mercy, not less than 
 3* 
 
80 OTHERS LIKE HIM. 
 
 those who labor under the eaves of a pagoda. Yes, 1 
 can be a missionary of goodwill to enlighten, to bless, and 
 to save. O accursed selfishness, that I had not seen it 
 before. Brethren, how could you receive me to your 
 church with this damning sin upon me ? Yes, upon me, 
 and you did not attempt to remove it !' Here his feelings, 
 overcame him, and with tokens of grief, to which many 
 in the house responded, he sat down. 
 
 How many live and die as unconscious of their obli^ 
 gations in regard to the religious use of their money as 
 Mr. L., but who, if proper pains were taken to direct their 
 attention to the subject, would be as prompt as he, to ac-^ 
 knowledge and act upon those obligations I 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Present earthJiness of the church — its influence upon the disposal of 
 estates, as instanced in deacon Brooks of 
 
 That men should take different routes, renders it by- 
 no means certain that thef^ will not terminate in the same 
 point. We have already observed, that the tendency of 
 human nature to physical exercises and enjoyments, is 
 much stronger than to those which are spiritual and im- 
 mortal. If the phrase, " without God in the world," indi- 
 cate a practical disregard of his authority, it might be 
 branded on nine-tenths of the inhabitants of any country, 
 as a true index of their character. 
 
 Innumerable seductions to a merely earthly mode of 
 life, as opposed to spiritual, arise from the immediate con- 
 tact of its objects with the senses, from the prospect of soon 
 enjoying a consummation of the good which it proposes, 
 and from the extreme distance and uncertainty which in 
 our view, invest the rewards of an opposite course. A 
 child's top, near the eye, appears larger than a pyramid in 
 the distance, and a present gratification, however trifling 
 weighs heavier in the calculations of most, than any 
 amount of good which labors under the disadvantage of 
 being remote. The seeds of atheism may be found in this 
 predominant inclination, to the extreme of bodily exercise 
 and present gratification. It leads on to the deification of 
 
32 ATHEISM OF CHRISTIANS. 
 
 " things temporal," and to the extinction of all the higher 
 hopes of a spiritual and immortal existence. Its language 
 is, " Reason and Nature, these ought to be the gods of 
 men. Admire nature, cultivate reason, the tyrant priests, 
 who extend their dominion into another world, must be 
 destroyed, or they will destroy us."* 
 
 Now, though devotion to sensible and present good, to 
 the exclusion of that which is spiritual and eternal, when 
 it has grown to this extreme, is an object of abhorrence 
 to most, yet, has it not at least an elementary existence 
 among those who profess to live for eternity T Do they 
 not sometimes and in some respects appear to have adopt- 
 ed this as their motto, " Let us eat and drink, for to- 
 morrow we die." Are all their plans of labor, enjoyment 
 and expenditure, formed under the impression that the pre- 
 sent improvement and future salvation of the soul, is the 
 first of all objects 1 Do they live like a colony which 
 heaven has planted on earth to effect conquests for its 
 King,- among the barbarous clans which surround them, 
 and to restore the world to its original state of moral 
 bloom, and beauty, and fertility ? Do they make every 
 thing subordinate to the higher interests of the soul and 
 eternity ? Just so far as they do not, they are practical 
 atheists. If in the pursuit, use, or enjoyment of any ob- 
 ject, " things eternal" are wholly thrown out of the con- 
 sideration, in that particular, they are without God in the 
 world. Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do 
 all to the glory of God. Was there not too much reason 
 in the remark of a certain man of the world, when he 
 
 ♦ Speech of M. Dupont, in the French National Conventioa. 
 
ALARMING CASE. 33 
 
 said, " I calculate to become a Christian. But the fact 
 is, a man must have property ; unless he has, he is scarce- 
 ly respected by the church. And I mean to make money, 
 and enjoy life, and when I have got things around me to my 
 mind, then I will be liberal, and feed the poor, and do good; 
 that is the way church members do." Poor man, not long 
 after this avowal, he was thrown from his carriage, and 
 precipitated into eternity, without completing the design 
 which church members taught him to form. 
 
 There has always appeared to me something singular 
 in the conduct of professors of religion, in reference to the 
 use of their worldly substance. If I mistake not, the cases 
 are rare, in which the adoption of the Christian faith leads 
 to any new modes of procedure, in regard to the use of 
 money.* It is not so with time, the gift of speech, or any 
 other earthly blessing. The converted man readily con- 
 
 * The author's opinion has lately been sought on the following case, 
 which is stated because there are many like it. A man, who, while 
 in the mercantile business some years since, contrived by several 
 fraudulent failures, to keep back from his creditors a property suffi- 
 cient for his support in a state of freedom from the toils of business, 
 has professed to be converted in a recent revival. But as yet, he has 
 taken no measures to indemnify his creditors. The church in his 
 neighborhood, however, as too often happens in such cases, are 
 awaiting with open arms, his reception to their fellowship, although 
 many of the members are in possession of the facts of his past his- 
 tory. Now, this is the question, is it right? My own opinion is 
 settled, that a conversion which cannot be relied on, to make men 
 honest in this world, cannot, to make them happy in the next. The 
 church, therefore, who should receive a member under such circum- 
 stances, without requiring him to make restitution, though it were at 
 the expense of his last cent, would become accessary to his fraud, 
 would cherish in him a fatal delusion, and bring a wound upon the 
 cause which they profess to love. 
 
34 DEFECTIVE CONFESSIONS. 
 
 ceives that he ought to devote time to secret and family 
 prayer, to attending meeting, not only on the Sabbath, but 
 other days, and a failure to do so, is considered on all handSy 
 as inseparable from a decline of the Christian graces. And 
 in confessing their faults, Christians as often allude to 
 the parsimony, of which they have been guilty in the 
 time devoted to prayer, and other religious exercises, as 
 to any other sin. 
 
 But do they ever confess that they have robbed God 
 in tithes and offerings, that they have not given as much 
 money as they ought, that covetousness has taken a 
 strong hold upon their feelings, and that this has caused 
 their spiritual decline? No, never did I hear such a con- 
 fession. And is it because they are innocent in this re- 
 spect, and never withhold from the cause of humanity and 
 of God, the money which they ought to bestow ? Oh,, 
 that such a plea were founded in truth ! It cannot be ; 
 for the great majority of those who are connected with 
 our churches, either never give at all to religious objects, 
 or at least, have no fixed principle in doing it. Do they 
 feel sinless on this point, because the duty of devoting 
 money to God is left equivocal in the scriptures ? This is 
 not possible ; for they contain ten inculcations of that 
 duty, where they do one even for observing the Lord's 
 day. And the former duty is, to say the least, equally 
 sustained by the light of nature with the latter. But if a 
 Christian, in addition to restricting his times of daily de- 
 votion, should work on the Sabbath in the same manner 
 as any other day, he would not be left to a casual confes> 
 sion, but the voice of the church would be raised against 
 
PARTIAL CONSECRATION. 35 
 
 him in tones of reprobation that he could not mistake. 
 While at the same time, the majority of that church per- 
 haps, act in regard to devoting money religiously, just as 
 that delinquent member does with his time. They give 
 nothing, or they give casually, irregularly, as feeling or 
 convenience may dictate. 
 
 Moreover we employ the gift of speech, in praising, 
 praying, and other religious exercises, and should esteem 
 our piety exceedingly deficient if we never pronounced a 
 word in favor of the cause of God. But what are words 
 compared with the more solid arguments of charity and 
 beneficence ? Thousands who are the most conscientious 
 in introducing religion into their conversations, practice in 
 reference to plans of doing good with their money a re- 
 morseless neglect, owing either to their not having at- 
 tended to the principles in which this duty is founded, or 
 to supposing that their families have a natural right to the 
 whole of their income, or more probably to deeply seated 
 habits of covetousness. It is to be feared that the number 
 who seriously aim at acting as they ought on this point, 
 is extremely small. And if we often fail of doing as we 
 ought when we aim at doing thus, how certain is it that 
 we wholly fail, when no such aim has yet been formed. 
 
 It may be said that this is an age of beneficence, and 
 that in these remarks, we do not allow due credit for the 
 immense sums which are annually contributed to the dif- 
 ferent plans of human improvement. To this we reply, 
 that when we say that the number who act on a system 
 of liberal beneficence, in the use of their money is small, 
 we mean that it is so, in comparison with what it ought to 
 
36 OBJECTION CONSIDERED. 
 
 be, not with what it has been. For, though the present 
 age is extremely deficient in this respect, there have been 
 those much more so. How small is the aggregate of all 
 that is annually given in this country, for benevolent pur. 
 poses, compared with the number in it, who profess re- 
 ligion ! If it were equally divided among them, how 
 small would be the amount for each ! Probably a tax of 
 a oent to the dollar, upon all the property in the hands of 
 the American church, would furnish an aggregate of ten 
 times the value of our annual charities, even in this proud 
 age of benevolence ! 
 
 But, besides that portion of our charities which comes 
 from persons out of the church, (and it is considerable,) 
 how large a deduction must be made for those who give 
 merely on the spur of the moment, without any con- 
 ception of its being their duty to act upon system ! And 
 if the motives of all were brought to the test of our Sa- 
 viour's precept, how sadly deficient would they be found ! 
 But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what 
 thy right hand doeth ; that thine alms may be in secret, 
 and thy Father which seeth in secret, himself shall reward 
 thee openly. 
 
 That among those who make it a point to give, there 
 is no fixed principle of action, as there is in supporting 
 their families, is evident from the inequality of their bene- 
 factions. Some that have the stewardship of large estates, 
 give little, while others with a moderate income, give 
 liberally. Hence, either the one or the other, are not in 
 the way of their duty ; for truth and duty are uniform, 
 speaking the same language in every heart, and produ- 
 
ABSENCE OP PRINCIPLE. 87 
 
 cing the same results upon every life. Not only so, but 
 the labor and expense which it costs, to gather up the 
 benefactions of the church, show an absence of principle 
 ill this matter. Did every man provide to lay out a por- 
 tion of his income upon the cause of God in the same 
 manner that he provides for the support of his own family, 
 there would be a regular flow into the treasury of bene- 
 volence, just as there is of water into the ocean. Under the 
 present system, however, religious offerings more re- 
 semble columns of water forced upward by an artificial 
 process, which is no sooner discontinued, than they re- 
 turn as usual to their downward coui-se. 
 
 Having seen in the previous chapter, the pretext which 
 the spirituality of religion furnishes for denying it all par- 
 ticipation in the disposal of our worldly estates, and for 
 perpetuating the evils of which we complain, it may be 
 proper to contemplate the influence of a worldly spirit, in 
 producing the same result. We know not that this can 
 be better done, than by selecting another character from 
 the same circle to which the other belonged. Perhaps by 
 Jooking farther, a more pertinent case might be found ; 
 but I choose to confine myself to what has fallen under my 
 own observation, presuming that it will be found a fair 
 specimen of the religious public at large. If the reader 
 can select a better case, let him do so. Few studies are 
 more profitable than that of human nature, as it is ex- 
 hibited in real life. Practice is the test of principles, and 
 consequences sooner or later develop the qualities of 
 character. Virtue, truth and piety, so far from suffering 
 by a comparison of their results, with those of vice, error 
 4 
 
38 ANCESTRY OP DEACON B. 
 
 and wickedness, will only shine the brighter by every 
 such comparison. Let any one, therefore, who has been 
 conversant with the world for a third or half a century, 
 sit down to the task of surveying all the characters em- 
 braced within the limit of his personal knowledge, at the 
 same time viewing them in connection with what he knows 
 of their history, and he will be able to gather as much of 
 the honey of moral truth, as from any other field of ob- 
 servation. It is here that virtue inculcates its lessons^ 
 « in thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." 
 
 Among those upon whom our solicitors called, after 
 leaving the house of Mr. Latham, was a wealthy mer- 
 chant from the city of , who, with his family, 
 
 had just arrived at his country seat in the neighborhood, 
 having come to enjoy the blandishments of a rural spring, 
 and to attend to the dressing of his garden and pleasure 
 grounds. This was deacon Brooks, a gentleman who 
 had long served in that office, one of our wealthiest and 
 most respectable metropolitan churches, and who had with 
 many, the reputation of having purchased a good degree, 
 and great boldness in the faith. He was descended from a 
 line of pious ancestors, who had drunk deep into puritani- 
 cal principles, from their earliest and purest sources, and 
 many of whom had belonged to the same church, of which 
 he was now a member. Great care had been taken by 
 his parents, to instruct him in those doctrines of the re- 
 formation, which are called Calvinistic, and to guard him 
 against a more Latitudinarian faith ; and their zeal was 
 early repaid, by witnessing in him a fondness for the 
 Bible, the place of public worship, the society of serious per- 
 
HIS COVETOUS FATHER. 39 
 
 sons, united to a most unblemished character. And to crown 
 their joy, ere he was fifteen years old, he gave ample 
 satisfaction to their pastor and church, of having been the 
 subject of a work of grace, and was accordingly received 
 as a member. 
 
 As they expected to leave with him a large patrimony, 
 sufficient for him to embark in the mercantile business on 
 an extended scale, they gave him an education adapted to 
 that calling, and sent him to serve a clerkship under one 
 of the most enterprising merchants of their city. The 
 father of Brooks, in addition to his piety, had always been 
 considered a close man for the world, knew the best side 
 of a bargain as well as any other man ; 
 
 " This was a way to thrive, and he was blest, 
 And thrift is blessinjj if men steal it^not." 
 
 He might be called, if the term were admissible, a 
 religious man of the world. Nor was the son less expert in 
 seizing on his spirit and habits in this respect, than in em- 
 bracing his faith. His sobriety, accuracy, and applica- 
 tion, secured for him the unbounded confidence of his em- 
 ployer, and the respect of all his customers. No man 
 earned more, spent less, was more constant, or more faith- 
 ful in his business than young Brooks. His fixther dying 
 about the time of his majority, left the settlement of his 
 estate with him, which he executed with all the precision 
 and promptitude of maturer years. Having received his 
 patrimony he immediately embarked in trade for himself, 
 and soon establislied one of the largest and most respecta- 
 ble houses in his native city. In his conduct as a church 
 
40 HIS HABITS AND TASTE. 
 
 member precisely the same characteristics appeared as in 
 his business. He was punctual at the meetings of the 
 church, prompt at the business committed to him, which 
 was soon very considerable, and no man as a disciplinarian 
 had a better reputation than he. He was as familiar 
 with every peg and pin about the meeting house and par- 
 sonage as he was with his own counting room. Noth- 
 ing could get out of order without his knowing it. By his 
 means chiefly the former edifice, whose style was antique 
 and magnificent, was fitted up with all the conveniences 
 and embellishments of a modern and more luxurious age. 
 
 Upon these objects, as also upon the comforts of his 
 own family, and every thing within the reach of his senses 
 over which he had control, he was liberal in his expendi- 
 tures. His love of order, convenience, and elegance^ 
 would no more allow him to neglect his meeting house and 
 parsonage, where so much of his time was spent, than it 
 would allow him to be inattentive to the furniture of his 
 own parlor. Whenever a great meeting was to be held 
 with his church, also, none was more active in pre- 
 paring for the delegates, or gave them a more sumptuous 
 entertainment than Deacon Brooks. Thus, the same 
 habits of attention and regularity that made him one of the 
 most successful merchants in his city, threw over the af- 
 fairs of his church an aspect of prosperity amounting even 
 to opulence. 
 
 There was only one point of view in which Deacon B. 
 was deficient, and that was in spiritual mindedness and its 
 concomitant virtues. He was one of those Christians who 
 can endure a calm better than a storm, and who seem most 
 
WANT OF SPIRITUALITY. 41 
 
 in their element when spiritual religion is at its lowest 
 ebb. If there was to be a season of humiliation and prayer 
 in his church, his seat was filled to be sure, because his 
 habits of regularity would not allow him to stay away ; 
 but it was apparent that he felt more interest in having 
 the place of meeting well swept, than in having the churcli 
 purified from its sins. He was punctual to the time of 
 prayer in the family and in the church, but his words were 
 so uniform, that you could tell at every stage of his prayer 
 what he would say next, and when he would finish. He 
 took pride in paying his pastor, because he was a man of 
 distinction; but another minister of less factitious embeJlish- 
 ment, and especially of less celebrity, though his talents 
 were superior, he would lightly esteem. And as to devi- 
 sing plans of doing good to the bodies and souls of men, 
 with his overgrown wealth, nothing could be more foreign 
 from his mind. If appealed to in behalf of the millions 
 who are perishing for lack of knowledge, or any object 
 remote from his senses, he would feel as little interested 
 as in a mission to the moon. In fact, he could no more 
 see any connection between the payment of his money and 
 the advancement of spiritual religion, or the improvement 
 of the human character and condition, than he could de- 
 tect with his eyes the attraction of gravity. There was 
 but one consideration that could ever induce him to make 
 a donation to any object where he could not see and enjoy 
 the benefit of it, and that was a regard to the reputation 
 of his church. If other churches were doing for such 
 objects, and his pastor thought they ought not to be back- 
 VFard, he would then exert hims'jlf to have an amount 
 4* 
 
42 COUNTRY SEAT. 
 
 raised worthy of the respectability and opulence of his 
 church. The sentiment that 
 
 '♦ Extravagance and av'rice shall subscribe, 
 While fame.and self-complaisance are the bribe," 
 
 was exactly illustrated in him ; for he has been known to 
 prevent raising any amount, merely because things were 
 not ripe for raising more than every other church in his 
 neighborhood. As to any regular system of using his 
 money for the glory of God, it was as remote from his 
 mind, as it was from the mind of farmer Latham, though 
 he came to this result by entirely a different route. While 
 the latter was fearful that the heavenly dove would be 
 terrified from his heart by the chinking of dollars, the for- 
 mer was too much occupied with the external forms and 
 embellishments of religion to allow a spiritual and remote 
 consideration to extract from him a farthing. 
 
 Such was the man to whom our solicitors made their 
 second application for the means of doing good. As they 
 opened the massy iron gate into the spacious enclosure of 
 Deacon Brooks' mansion and stepped upon the marble 
 walks within, beheld an assemblage of trees and shrubs to 
 which every clime had contributed, and breathed the air 
 pregnant with their odors, the pious lawyer sighing, ex- 
 claimed, * Is it possible that the successor of the first Chris- 
 tian martyr lives here ? How many tears might have 
 been dried by this wasted money ? How many ignorant 
 taught to read the word of life ! How many of the Lord*s 
 poor might have been fed ! How many wandering re- 
 claimed !' 
 
 * Alas !' added one of his companions, < I doubt wheth- 
 
DANGER OF LUXURY. 43 
 
 er the honors of the first martyrdom would have clustered 
 round the name of Stephen, if he had spent his money thus.' 
 
 * There is but too much truth,' rejoined the lawyer, 
 
 ' in what is said by one of our poets, 
 
 The world is still deceived by ornament — 
 
 And ornament is but the guilded shore 
 
 To a most dangerous sea ; the beauteous scarf j 
 
 Veiling in Indian beauty ; in a word, 
 
 The seeming truth which cunning times put on 
 
 To entrap the wisest.* 
 
 * But the rich,' rejoined the other, * are not alone in 
 abusing the stewardship of earthly property. The poor 
 take their full share in the guilt of this sin.' 
 
 * It is true,' added the lawyer, * theft is theft whether 
 it take one or a thousand. The only difference is that the 
 rich are able to rob God on a more extensive scale. If the 
 larcenies of the one are grand, those of the other are petit; 
 and, as the number of the latter is much the larger, the 
 loss which benevolence sustains by them, is as great or 
 greater than what she suffers from the rich. This is one 
 of the most pervading sins of our land, yea, of our world. 
 Few have any system of honoring God, or benefitting 
 men by the charitable use of their worldly substance. 
 Every one does with it what is right in his own eyes 
 without regard to God. And unless a remedy is applied, 
 efficacious and general, piety will decline, and wealth will 
 act over in our nation the same scenes through which she 
 conducted Greece, Rome, and other nations of antiquity 
 to misery and extinction.' 
 
 With this, they found themselves at the door of the 
 mansion, into which they were welcomed by its owner 
 ♦Shakspeare. 
 
44 RECEPTION — KESISTAACE. 
 
 with great cordiality. Deacon B. was now a man of 
 forty-five, with a form erect, athletic, and rather inclining 
 to corpulency, and with a demeanor portly and dignified. 
 With the exception of the lines which care had worn in 
 his visage, and which rather increased the interest of his 
 appearance, his face was as smooth as ever, his cheek as 
 florid, and his spirits as brilliant. 
 
 His treatment of the visitors seemed to say, the best 
 that this house affords is yours — ' Whal'll you have to 
 refresh you ? — a thousand welcomes. Your mountain- 
 breezes to one who has been pent up in the city are like 
 being fanned by angel-wings. Truly, God made the 
 country, but man made the town. How fare all things 
 in your village? well, I hope.' 
 
 Thus, an aspect of pleasantry was spread over iho 
 whole scene, till the solicitors began cautiously to disclose 
 the object of their visit, when Deacon B. instantly put him- 
 self into an attitude of resistance, and made them feel that 
 they were intruding upon forbidden ground. 
 
 Before they had proceeded half through their account 
 of the outfit, he rose from his seat, folded his arms across 
 his breast, and took one or two stately rounds on the floor 
 of his spacious parlor, then said, ' Gentlemen, I wish you 
 could be in our city one week to witness the swarms of 
 beggars with which we are continually infested. They 
 come up like flies on all the coast.' 
 
 * But do you give them any thing,' inquired the lawyer. 
 * I grant that there is a better way of filling the coffers of 
 benevolence, than that of doing it by agents ; that if the 
 
CONVERSATION. 45 
 
 churches would do their duty, much of this labor and ex- 
 pense would be superseded, but' 
 
 Here deacon B., impatiently interrupted, * I give, I 
 give, yes, I do my full share towards supporting our own 
 church, and that is enough for any man.' 
 
 * Then you do nothing for missions,' said one of the 
 solicitors. 
 
 Deacon B., * 1, yes, our pastor thought whe» an 
 agent was along last winter, that we ought not to be 
 behind others, and we raised for him one thousand 
 dollars, of which I gave one hundred.' 
 
 Solicitor. ' That was well ; and having made so good 
 beginning, we hope you will aid us too.' 
 
 *Aid you, no. I had as lief throw my money into 
 the ocean, as to lay it out upon these paltry charities, that 
 are springing up like noxious weeds, all over the country. 
 Your nutshell schemes may do for narrow minds, and 
 empty purses ; but when I give, it shall be to something 
 that has dignity, and that fills a broad space in the 
 public eye. Then I can feel a security, that an object 
 will be accomplished worthy of my money.' 
 
 'Allow me to inquire, deacon B.,' said the lawyer, 
 * have you any plan of serving God and your generation, in 
 the use of that estate of which you are made the steward ? 
 Do you render it productive of the greatest possible amount 
 of good ? From how many hearts have you extracted 
 with it, the thorn of anguish ? How many wanderers has 
 it enabled you to direct into the way of truth and eternal 
 life ? Do you as regularly serve Christ with your money, 
 as with your time, your voice, and with other earthly 
 blessings ? Have you yet yielded to the claims which he 
 
46 CONVERSATION. 
 
 makes upon your worldly substance?' ' As to that 
 matter,' said deacon B., * I have always done my part 
 to support my minister, and I take pleasure in doing so, 
 for he is a learned and celebrated man, and I am instructed 
 by his sermons. I have not been backward in paying my 
 money, to repair and embellish our meeting-house, and to 
 keep the parsonage in good condition. These things I 
 have done as regularly, as I have provided for my own 
 family. Why is not that serving God with my pro- 
 perty V 
 
 ' Deacon B.' rejoined the lawyer, * you pay your 
 money to educate your children also, but is that a reason 
 for your doing nothing to instruct the children of the poor 
 and the ignorant ? That you are under obligation to the 
 latter as well as to your own, is a principle recognized by 
 our civil authorities ; and hence you are required under 
 the pains and penalties of law, to pay an annual tax for 
 the purpose of general education. If such a law is founded 
 in equity, then would you not be bound as a Christian, to 
 do something for the general purposes of education, even 
 if you were not required by law ? And are there not 
 cases in which you are thus bound, where the civil au- 
 thorities make no demand upon you ? 
 
 'You take care of your family when they are sick, but 
 is that visiting the fatherless and widow in their afflictions ? 
 In these things you do better certainly, than those who 
 will not educate their own children, nor watch over their 
 sick families. The question is not whether you make it 
 a point to do some duties in the use of your money, but 
 whether you do them ail. 
 
CONVERSATION. 47 
 
 * In supporting public worship for your own benefit, and 
 that of your family, you certainly do better than those 
 who take no interest at all in matters of this kind, neither 
 for their own benefit, nor for that of others. But is this 
 a gift ? Is it charity ? Do you not obtain an equi- 
 valent? Is not the instruction you receive from your 
 minister, as well worth the money you pay him, as the 
 labors of your school teacher are of what you pay him ? 
 If you answer, no, I imagine your minister would con- 
 sider it no compliment to his talents. You own a part of 
 the property in your meeting house, and when you lay 
 out money upon that, you increase the value of your pro- 
 perty in it, besides realizing the value of what you pay in 
 the additional comforts which you enjoy in attending wor- 
 ship. Moreover, the money expended upon the institu- 
 tions of religion in one's own town, is fully realized in 
 most cases, by the general rise of property, and on this 
 very principle, infidels invest their money in such institu- 
 tions. The question is, whether the additional value of 
 property in your city arising from your religious institu- 
 tions, will not more than cover the cost of them. What, 
 therefore, do ye more than others, or more than you do, 
 when you put your money into a bank, to receive your 
 regular dividends ? My dear sir, is there not after all 
 some other way of serving God and our generation, in the 
 use of our property.' 
 
 Deacon Brooks, who had sat very uneasy under these 
 remarks, replied rather angrily, * Have I not told you 
 that I gave a hundred dollars last winter, for missions ; 
 and I shall probably do something again, when I think the 
 
48 UNHAPPY CONCLUSION. 
 
 circumstances call for it. I would enter as promptly as 
 any man, into plans for doin^ good, provided they were 
 sufficiently ample and magnificent, to embrace the world. 
 But to send out a single missionary, is like throwing a 
 thimble full of sugar into the ocean, with the view of 
 sweetening it. 
 
 * You first tell us that a population of more than six 
 hundred millions, need missionaries, and then ask aid to 
 place among this vast assemblage, a little handful of men, 
 perhaps one for every ten millions. But what can one 
 man do, for so many ignorant, polluted, besotted pagans, 
 speaking a language to which he is a stranger, and in- 
 habiting a climate, that may perhaps prove fatal to him, 
 the first year of his residence among them ? How should 
 I appear, were I to require a single clerk, to transact a 
 mercantile business of a million a year ? No, no, gen- 
 tlemen, I am too much a matter of fact man, to be de- 
 coyed into such visionary schemes. I am a friend to 
 my race, and as soon as I see something devised for their 
 melioration, that approves itself to common sense, some 
 beginning on a scale, that shall promise a favorable end- 
 ing, some plans that will bear the severe test of mathe- 
 matical calculation, to which every enterprise in which I 
 embark, must first be subjected ; then, gentlemen, my 
 purse and myself, too, shall be at your service.' 
 
 Seeing that it would be of no use to urge the matter 
 further, the solicitors dismissed the subject, and soon took 
 their leave of the deacon and his mansion, resolved never 
 more to suflfer the mortification of visiting it, on a similar 
 errand. 
 
INVISIBLE INFLUENCES. 49 
 
 What a numerous class of church members are in the 
 habit, like deacon B., of reducing every religious enter- 
 prise to the same carnal rules of calculation ! They will 
 give, it is true, to buy a reputation for liberality, in behalf 
 of themselves or their churches, but are totally blind to 
 those secret influences which the scriptures represent as 
 operating in the spiritual world, and which are often 
 wielded as potently in connection with feeble, as with more 
 promising agents. Had the Galilean fishermen been men 
 of this stamp, they would never have attempted the con- 
 quest of the world. If the least reliance is to be placed 
 in the religion we profess, or in the facts spread before us 
 in the history of human nature, the universe of mind is 
 subject to laws so subtle, yet so pervading, that secret 
 acts of charity and devotion, may throw out a wake that 
 will reach the remotest points of immensity, and the most 
 distant periods of eternity. Who could have foreseen 
 that the domestic worship of Cornelius, and the little 
 shining dust he may have given, in the shape of alms, 
 would rise even to the throne of God, and be the direct 
 means of opening the door of immortal hope to millions of 
 men ? Those who do not act with reference to theso in- 
 visibla influences, whatever their standing in the church, 
 are as devoid of the essential elements of Christianity, as 
 Voltaire, or Hume, or Bollingbroke. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Principles that should guide us in the use of our pecuniary resources. 
 History of W , Narrative of G n. 
 
 That failures to serve God with our bodies, or to act 
 upon the principles of religion in the use of earthly gifts, 
 are not confined to money, is a truth which finds too much 
 confirmation among all kinds of men. Were there no de- 
 partures from those principles, we should be unable to ac- 
 count for the disappointment and disgust, which at present, 
 result to men from pursuing the objects of this world. 
 These feelings are always the fruits of those misdirected 
 and inordinate passions, against which true reh'gion is so 
 pre-eminently calculated to secure its votaries. If bodily 
 exercise and appetite, therefore, if the sight of the eyes, 
 the hearing of the ears, the taste, and all the senses ; if 
 muscular vigor, symmetry of form, beauty of complexion, 
 melody of voice, and every thing connected with our 
 physical existence, were subordinated to the higher in- 
 fluences of religion and eternity, instead of proving a snare 
 as they too often do, it is impossible to conceive the extent 
 of good, which they would be the means of conferring 
 upon the world. There is no point of view in which the 
 laws of God, whether revealed in nature, or in his word, 
 are not adapted to improve earthly objects, and make them 
 more extensively productive of happiness to man. 
 
52 NATURE AND BIBLE COINCIDENT. 
 
 For the laws of the moral government, are every way 
 Suited to those of the physical ; and as the elements in the 
 nature of man are such as to give them both a claim upon 
 him, he being both a material and a spiritual being, it is 
 impossible that he should disobey the one, without doing 
 violence to the other. To act against nature rightly in- 
 terpreted, is to act against God, and to act against God, is 
 to act against nature. Hence, the commission of moral 
 evil, entails physical evil upon the world, and when in the 
 evil hour, man reached forth his hand to violate the divine 
 command, 
 
 " Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat 
 Sighing through all her works, gave signs of wo, 
 Thai all was lost." ♦ 
 
 Since men, therefore, do not derive either from matter or 
 
 spirit, the happiness which they are capable of imparting, 
 
 we know that they must be in the habit of doing violence 
 
 to the laws, under which they are placed. 
 
 It would be an interesting study, to trace out the har- 
 mony between revealed religion and the economy of nature 
 in general, and to observe at every point wherein obe- 
 (Jience to the one, conduces to enjoyment from the other, 
 and wherein disobedience to the first, has already, and 
 must still further diminish the power of the other to do 
 us good. Our object, however, is not to take this broad 
 view, but to confine ourselves to a single point, viz : the 
 course of duly in the use of earthly treasure^ as connected 
 with the consequences of pursuing or neglecting it. 
 
 That the subordination of this object, to those laws 
 under which God has placed us, as they appear from reason 
 
 ♦ Milton, 
 
THE RICH MADE POOR. 53 
 
 and the scriptures, will make it conducive of more happi- 
 ness to ourselves and others, than by any other method of 
 disposing of it, I suppose will not be doubted. The meek 
 shall inherit the earth. Godliness has the promise of the life, 
 that now is. The value of earthly substance depends 
 wholly upon the manner of using it, insomuch that when 
 perverted, so far from being valuable, it becomes an in- 
 strument of more evil, than almost any other object en- 
 trusted to human hands. The love of money, is the root 
 of all evil. The perjuries, robberies, murders, frauds, 
 thefts, oppressions, and infractions of all duty, to which a 
 misdirected passion for wealth, becomes accessory, are 
 matters of universal notoriety. Whatever variations 
 human nature may exhibit in other departments, it is uni- 
 form in this. The abuse of worldly property, either by 
 indulging for it an excessive passion, or in any other way, 
 diminishes its value, just in proportion to the extent of that 
 abuse. Whoever will take the trouble to look over the 
 results of his own experience and observation, will find 
 this remark as true in fact, as it is in theory. 
 
 It may seem otherwise, upon a superficial view of the 
 subject, and we may be inclined to think that those who 
 have few scruples as to the manner of acquiring or using 
 property, obtain from it as much value as any other class. 
 We have only to examine a little more closely, however, 
 and to wait a little longer, to be convinced that this is 
 utterly a mistake. Because actions and their effects, hap- 
 pen to be remote from each other, we confound those of 
 the good, with those of the bad, not content to wait tiU 
 
 "—in the wind and tempest of fortune's frowns, 
 Distinction with a broad and powerful fan 
 
54 HOW TO GET RICH. 
 
 Puffinsr at all, winnows the light away ; 
 And what hath mass and matter by itself 
 Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled." * 
 
 Impatient and short sighted in our decisions, and not duly 
 waiting till characters are subjected to the ordeal of time, 
 and a frowning fortune, we fall into the error of calling 
 the proud happy, of setting up them that work wicked- 
 ness, as worthy of imitation, and of delivering them that 
 tempt God. But let things be viewed in their true light, 
 and in connection with their ultimate tendencies, and it 
 would no doubt be found true, that, that method of using 
 wealth, which approaches nearest to the course which 
 reason and religion point out, would make it the most val- 
 uable, both to its owners and to the world at large. 
 
 Hence, it is of great importance, that the laws of reli- 
 gion natural and revealed, in reference to the use and pur- 
 suit of earthly treasure, should be understood and practised. 
 Those laws are identified with the true principles of poll- 
 tical economy, and furnish the only clue to the wealth of 
 nations. They teach the true policy of multiplying the 
 resources of a people, and of making those resources min- 
 ister the most largely to the improvement, the happiness, 
 and the elevation of human nature. 
 
 What is the course, therefore, to which we shall be im- 
 pelled in the use and pursuit of earthly treasure, provided 
 we conform to the dictates of religion natural and revealed? 
 
 This is a great question, the decision of which will 
 show, not only what we ought to do, but what we ought 
 to have done, and so to what extent we have been deficient. 
 All that we contemplate in this chapter is simply the 
 statement of those principles, to enforce which succeeding 
 * Shakspeare. 
 
DEVOTING WEALTH TO GOD. 55 
 
 chapters will be chiefly devoted. These principles them- 
 selves may be embraced in a narrow compass, although 
 the sources from which they are deduced are spread over 
 a wide field, including our natural constitution, our social 
 relations, and the laws and tendencies of revealed re- 
 ligion. 
 
 There are various uses to which wealth may be turn- 
 ed, each of which operates with men as a stimulus to its 
 pursuit. The enumeration of these uses will be found in 
 the succeeding chapter. They are such as supply of 
 personal wants, provision for future use and need, the sup- 
 port of our families, the respectability which it confers, 
 the luxuries, embellishments, leisure, and various pleasures 
 to which it may be made subservient. Now, among these 
 uses of wealth, that of devoting a roRTiON of it to god, 
 stands among the first in point of utility, importance, and 
 the solemnity with which it is enforced. Hence, such a use 
 of it should enter into all our plans of acquiring, into all our 
 calculations about expending, and should be ever present to 
 our minds as much as the supply of our personal wants or 
 the support of our families. Unless this course be pursued, 
 we have omitted an important part of our duty in the use 
 and pursuit of wealth, that part which religion both natu- 
 ral and revealed is more especially concerned to inculcate. 
 This principle lies at the basis of our subject. 
 
 We shall give a passing attention also to the propor- 
 tion of a man's worldly income which he is bound to de- 
 vote to God, showing that though our Saviour has not 
 transferred the law of tithes into the constitution of his 
 church, it is not because he expects less, hut because the be' 
 
56 HOW IT IS TO BE DONE. 
 
 nevolence which he aims at awakening legitimately followed 
 up, would swell the amount much beyond this propof 
 tion. 
 
 We hope to make it appear, also, that the profession of 
 the Christian faith virtually involves a pledge to act upon 
 system in devoting to God a liberal proportion of our in- 
 come, not less than that we will do so by our time, our 
 influence, or any earthly blessing. 
 
 The phrase, devoting money or earthly treasure to God, 
 may require some explanation, since a man might be ir. 
 dined to regard every consistent use of it as devoting it in 
 this manner. That God sanctions every such use there 
 can be no doubt ; but still he makes a claim that a por- 
 tion of it should be used with special reference to himself, 
 nor can this claim be resisted without bringing all our 
 measures in regard to money, however proper in them-t 
 selves, under reprobation. If we offend in this point we 
 are guilty of all. 
 
 There are two respects in which worldly property may 
 be devoted to God. First, by expending it upon the inter* 
 ests of religion, where we expect for ourselves and house^ 
 holds, in common with others, the consequent advantage. 
 And second, by giving it from motives of piety and benevo^ 
 lence when we expect no return. It may be thus given 
 to alleviate physical suffering and want, to confer intel- 
 lectual advantages, or to extend to the destitute, the igno- 
 rant, the erring, and the vicious, the means of moral and 
 spiritual improvement, and of future salvation. 
 
 The money paid to erect a meeting-house, to support 
 the ministry, and to maintain public worship with a view 
 
SYSTEMATIC CHARITY. 57 
 
 to our own advantage with that of the parish or congrega* 
 tion to which we belong, though not a gratuity, partakes 
 still of the nature of an offering to God, and if the motive 
 be right, God accepts it as an act of piety and duty to him- 
 self. Such offerings under the Christian economy take 
 the place of those which were made upon the sacrifices 
 and various rites of religion in former dispensations. That 
 they are made to God in a different sense from the money 
 which we pay for the means of physical support, we think 
 no one can fail of discovering. Such offerings therefore 
 are never to be lost sight of in our remarks upon the duty 
 of devoting earthly treasure to God. 
 
 Our investigations, however, will tend chiefly to the 
 settlement of this principle, that a man never does his duty 
 in the use and pursuit of such treasure, unless he acts upon 
 system in expending a liberal proportion of it, without the 
 prospect of an equivalent, in procuring for others the same 
 advantages which he needs for himself, and those who 
 have a natural claim upon him for support. Systematic 
 Charity or beneficence in the use of money is the point 
 which we would keep continually in view. This is the 
 burden of our argument — This is the true philosophy of 
 benevolence. 
 
 The duty of regarding in all our plans of accumulation 
 and expenditure, the wants and woesof human nature, and 
 of providing gratuities for their relief, is based on similar 
 principles with that of supporting ones own family, being 
 sustained by indications in nature and precepts in revela- 
 tion altogether as unequivocal. Indeed, the scriptures 
 say more to enforce the duty of giving to the poor, than 
 
58 POOR IN MIND AND MORALS. 
 
 that of supporting our own families, not because the latter 
 is less binding, but because the former is more neglected. 
 The gratuity of which we speak does not consist merely in 
 giving food to prevent a man from starving, or to relieve 
 other necessities that may chance to fall under our obser- 
 vation, but in regularly paying a portion of our income to 
 procure for those who need the same physical, intellectual 
 and moral advantages which are necessary to ourselves* 
 Moral and intellectual destitution is not only more com- 
 mon, but vastly more appalling than that which consists in 
 a paucity of this world's goods. More than eight-tenths of 
 the human family are at this moment groping their way to 
 eternity, without the means of rising to the true dignity of 
 man, or to the consistent hope of unending life. Though 
 surrounded by tropical exuberance, and treading upon 
 a soil pregnant with gems and gold, still, they are suffer- 
 ing a poverty more to be dreaded than the absence of 
 every earthly good. Immortal souls, in ignorance of what 
 is most important to be known, moral natures in ruin with- 
 out the means of recovery, with no Bible, nor Christian 
 teacher, nor opportunity of learning the way of salvation, 
 is an infinitely more pitiable spectacle than mortal bodies 
 deprived of the comforts of life. Our benefactions there- 
 fore must have respect to the whole of man's nature, partic- 
 ularly to its indestructible elements, or they will be defi- 
 cient in a most material point. 
 
 Nor are we to wait till every other provision is made 
 before this is allowed to come into view ; but our gratuity 
 for the wants and woes of humaa nature should stand 
 upon a level with the supply of our own wants and those 
 
CHARITY IN DESIGN. — MR. W. 59 
 
 of our families. Unless we give it place before embellish- 
 ment and luxury, or even before providing capital against 
 future use or need, we depart from our duty as much as if 
 we should depnve our families of the necessaries of life, that 
 we might hoard money or live sumptuously ourselves. 
 The benevolence of too many exists only in anticipation, 
 and never in reality. They have so many selfish interests 
 to serve, that, though they acknowledge the obligation, yet 
 they never get ready to serve God and their generation in 
 the use of their money. 
 
 The course pursued by a former acquaintance of 
 mine is that in which thousands are now treading, and I 
 fear that the termination may be equally sad and awful. 
 
 I allude to a Mr. W. in the town of who was 
 
 a carpenter there, for some years doing a prosperous bu- 
 siness, and rising to wealth as rapidly as the proceeds of 
 his industry would allow. He had acquired, at my first 
 acquaintance with him, a considerable property, but was 
 one of those men who provide a place for every cent be- 
 fore it is earned, where it will go to swell the amount of 
 their hoarded stores. Hence, when any thing in the 
 shape of a religious offering was proposed, though no man 
 was more forward to approve the measure than he, none 
 was more backward to give ; because he said his affairs 
 were straitened, he owed money, and he should be doing 
 injustice to his creditors as well as his own family by giv- 
 ing it away. Whenever he did give any thing, his feel- 
 ings were so little attuned to the business, that he would 
 ever afler remember it as so much taken from his property, 
 and it would be a source of secret vexation to him. Still, 
 
60 HIS DESIGN FAILS. 
 
 he was apt to speak of the pleasure he should feel in being 
 liberal if he were only able, and would sometimes propose 
 his services as a solicitor to show his good will, and to make 
 up his part in this way. He would comfort himself when- 
 ever his conscience accused him of covetousness, by think* 
 ing how much good he would do when he arrived to a 
 certain pitch of affluence, or by forming resolutions of 
 leaving liberal bequests at his death to benevolent objects. 
 "When I last saw him he was reduced to a mere skeleton, 
 from no other cause than his hard drudgery in the world's 
 service ; but still was adding house to house, and field to 
 field, with even greater eagerness than ever. He spoke 
 of his ill health as an indication that his dissolution was 
 near ; and when he had secured the particular item to his 
 estate which he had then in view, he thought he should 
 take a little rest. Nothing, he said, reconciled him to his 
 hard labor, but the hope of having still more to leave for be- 
 nevolence at his death. Thus, the deluded man mistook 
 the most confirmed covetousness for a wish to get money to 
 do good with, and in this way quelled the fears that would 
 otherwise have been excited by the prospect of approach- 
 ing dissolution. But the consummation of his benevolent 
 designs was never realized ; on the contrary, 
 
 " The wreath he won drew down an instant curse," 
 the poor man died without will, his wife married a miser- 
 able vagabond who squandered her portion of his property, 
 and his children becoming intemperate, converted theirs 
 into the means of their own destruction. Alas, I exclaim* 
 
 whenever I pass his grave, poor W , could you from 
 
 this point have formed your plans of life, instead of wait- 
 
PIOUS ECONOMY. 61 
 
 ing to do good with your money, you would have done it 
 as you went along. 
 
 Not only should we place our pious gratuity upon a 
 level with the supply of our daily wants, and provide for 
 it as regularly ; but the increase of its amount as far as 
 possible, should be a continual motive to economy in the 
 use of our income. We practice economy with a view of 
 increasing our capital, of multiplying our means of per- 
 sonal comfort, and of leaving a patrimony in the hands of 
 our children. Why therefore should we not do it with 
 the view of being able to place more in the coffers of be- 
 nevolence ? Is not the doing of good to the bodies and 
 souls of men, the supply of six or seven hundred millions 
 of immortal beings with the only means of salvation, and 
 the general alleviation of human wo, an object as worthy 
 of economy in the use of money and of effort to acquire 
 it, as any other upon which we can lay it out ? Perhaps 
 we cannot give a better view of the course which we 
 ought to pursue in the use of money, than by introducing 
 the following narrative, presented by special request in a 
 meeting where this subject was under discussion, by a 
 church member in moderate circumstances, of the name 
 of G n. 
 
 * You know my friends,' said he, *that I am a poor 
 man. Fifty acres of land is all I have from which to sup- 
 port myself, wife, and six children. For fifteen years 
 after I professed religion, I thought myself perfectly ex- 
 cused in giving nothing to religious objects, and I believe 
 others thought so too for they never called on me for any- 
 thing. I was in debt, could hardly bring the two ends of 
 
 6 
 
62 NARRATIVE OF G — N. 
 
 the year together, my family was poorly provided for, 
 and we were even in the habit of receiving occasional do- 
 nations from our neighbors. Being about five years since 
 at a neighbor's, a lady called to ask assistance for a poor 
 family, who had been burnt out and lost two children in 
 the fire. 
 
 ' I was so much affected by what I heard, that to be 
 able to give something for their relief, seemed to me would 
 be an inexpressible gratification. I had in my pocket a 
 piece of silver of small value — it was all the money I had 
 in the world, but still, ere I was aware, my fingers were 
 upon it, and I involuntarily handed it to the lady. On my 
 way home, I reflected upon myself, thought my family 
 needed this money at that moment, to buy necessaries 
 with, and [Hhey did not, it was the property of my credit- 
 ors, and I ought not to have given it away. It disturbed 
 my mind so muc'.i, that I went and spread the case before 
 God in prayer. While thus engaged, the words of our 
 Saviour occuried to my mind ; Give to him that asketh 
 thee, and from him that would borrow of thee, turn not 
 thou away. My faith found here, a support for itself 
 and I rejoiced that our Saviour did not single out the rich 
 from the poor, as under obligation to observe this precept, 
 but addressed it alike to all. Satisfied that I had done no 
 wrong, I was willing to leave the result with God, and 
 bent my thoughts to see how I could repair my loss, and 
 allow myself the gratification of doing good in this way, 
 on future occasions. I soon discovered that in the man- 
 ner both of purchasing and using articles of consumption 
 in my family, I might practice greater economy than I 
 
NARRATIVE OF G — N. 63 
 
 had been accustomed to. By buying every thing on 
 credit, I had subjected myself to the double loss of giving 
 more for articles, and of paying interest on the money they 
 cost. After all they must be paid for ; and hence, by con- 
 triving to pay when I got them, I should make a saving. 
 And it was only by exercising great care and self-denial 
 the first year, that we succeeded to revolutionize these old 
 habits ; but when it was done, it cut off no small item of 
 useless expense. I found also, that there were several 
 articles of previous consumption, such as a number of 
 gallons of ardent spirits, and as many pounds of tobacco, 
 which we could give up altogether, and yet be better off 
 than we had been with them. 1 contrived also, with the 
 assistance of my wife, who entered into all my plans, to 
 use what I purchased much more economically than be- 
 fore. Many ways both of increasing the comfort of liv- 
 ing, and of doing it at less expense, occurred to us, that we 
 had never thought of, which we reduced to practice, greatly 
 to the improvement of our table and fireside enjoyments. 
 By these means we effected a very considerable retrench- 
 ment of our expenses. 
 
 * I then looked over my farm and manner of husband- 
 ing it, to see if I could not increase my income. By 
 early rising, and being more strict in training my sons to 
 business, I was able to supersede the necessity of hiring a 
 man, in harvest. I kept up my fences, disburdened my 
 barn-yard of a quantity of manure, which had long lain 
 useless, and scattered it over my fields greatly to the im- 
 provement of the soil, was punctual to get my crops in at 
 the proper season, and to harvest them before they were 
 
64 NARRATIVE OF G N. 
 
 injured. By all these plans, which I pursued up with 
 diligence the first year, I closed the crevices through 
 which the little fountain of my wealth had been wasted? 
 and at the same time increased the stream of my income ; 
 I liquidated my debts, paid my taxes, supported my family 
 better than before, and had something to give away be- 
 sides. As God had prospered me so far, I felt it my duty to 
 lay myself out still further for his glory, in cultivating my 
 little farm. I therefore set offone tenth of that part, which 
 was productive, about three acres, determined to cultivate 
 it, and devote the proceeds to God. From this, I realized 
 the first year, about one hundred dollars, which I appro- 
 priated to various objects of benevolence, and from the 
 rest of my farm> I obtained m.ore than ever I did from the 
 whole, in any one year before. Since that time, I have 
 enjoyed the luxury of doing good with my money, my 
 family have been better supported than ever, and blessed 
 be God, all my children have become hopefully pious, one 
 of them is studying for the ministry, and my house has 
 been like the house of Obed-edom, where the ark rested.' 
 Here his heart was too full to admit of his saying more. 
 Such is the plan of living, which I would see adopted 
 throughout this country, yea, throughout the world ; and 
 more than nine-tenths of the asperities of the original 
 curse will be abated. And it appears to me, that to in- 
 duce many to adopt this mode of living, it is only neces- 
 sary that they should look at the principles of nature and 
 scripture, and at facts, as they are spread out before us in 
 real life, and in the history of past ages. Let this subject 
 receive as much prayer and reflection, as its importance 
 
EXCELLENT PLAN. 65 
 
 demands, let conscience be brought to bear upon it, the 
 same as upon other points, and let the claims of God upon 
 our wealth acquired, or means of acquiring it, be met and 
 cancelled, even by the great body of Christians, and it is 
 impossible to estimate the consequent benefit. The in- 
 fluence would extend beyond the pale of the church? 
 statesmen would learn that mercy is one of the great ob- 
 jects of legislation, a fair proportion of the surplus 
 treasures in the hands of civilized man, might perhaps re- 
 ceive a beneficent direction, and thus more ample pro- 
 vision be made to wipe away the reproach of human na- 
 ture, and to invest it with its true dignity. Not only so, 
 but the habit of associating these claims with all our 
 measures of acquiring and expending money, would mode- 
 rate our passion for it, a passion which oftener becomes in- 
 ordinate than any other, would secure us against the 
 crimes of which it is instrumental, and would prepare us 
 to enjoy much more from the objects of this world, than 
 by any other course, " There is that scattereth, and yet 
 increaseth." 
 
 6* 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 Uses of wealth. 
 
 The most of us will concede that the pursuit of earthly- 
 treasure has engrossed a very considerable portion of our 
 time, talent, and labor, hitherto in life. But have we duly- 
 weighed the motives that have impelled us to this pursuit? 
 It is highly inconsistent with our character, as accounta- 
 ble and immortal beings, to consume the greater portion 
 of the time which Heaven has allotted to us on earth, to 
 prepare for another world, upon any object, without in- 
 quiring, wherefore we pursue it, or what bearing it may- 
 be made to exert upon our ultimate destination ? Soon 
 God will require our souls of us, and then, whose shall those 
 things be, which we have provided ? 
 
 It is time that we had come to a solemn pause, and 
 had asked ourselves wherefore is this mighty struggle in 
 which we are engaged, and to what point is it tending ? 
 To what use can we convert this object upon which 
 we have exhausted such a vast amount of labor, which 
 has occupied our day-dreams, and midnight reveries, — 
 this idol upon whose altars we have sacrificed the fairest 
 portion of our existence 1 What is that secret — that 
 powerful impulse, which has thus wielded the principal 
 energies of our lives ? 
 
68 USES OF WEALTH. 
 
 First, Is it the love of money as an absolute principle 7 
 Or, second, Have we acted solely with reference to 
 the advantages which we supposed it capable of purchas- 
 ing? 
 
 When this point is decided, then let us inquire. 
 
 Third, have these advantages been regarded and pro- 
 
 videdforj according to the respective importance of each 7 
 
 And fourth. If we have provided them for ourselves, 
 
 and those, who immediately depend upon us, have we 
 
 done as much as we ought to procure them for others 7 
 
 1. In relation to the first of these inquiries, I suppose 
 none are willing to believe themselves actuated by the 
 love of money, as an absolute principle, " however tena- 
 cious they may be of it, or insatiably grasping at more." 
 The name of miser, or miserable, by which this passion 
 is designated when it has no reference to the advantages 
 which its object is capable of conferring, sufficiently indi- 
 cates the abhorrence, in which men agree to hold it. It 
 is a comfortless passion, shorn of all the kindly feelings, 
 and reduces us to such a pitch of degradation, that 
 
 " For sordid lucre plunge we in the mire, 
 Drudge, sweat, through every shame, for every gain ; 
 For vile contaminating trash throw up 
 Our hope in heaven, our dignity with man, 
 And deify the dirt matured to gold."* 
 
 No one, therefore, however true it may be, in fact, is 
 willing to acknowledge, that he pursues money for its own 
 sake. '* No ; the passion enslaves and befools him under 
 secondary and more plausible forms. He wishes to have 
 the means of getting his family advantageously forward 
 
 * Young. 
 
USES OF WEALTH. 69 
 
 in the world. He says so, and thinks so, even though he 
 is unwilling to do any thing for them at present. It is de- 
 sirable to have the means of maintaining a respectable 
 station in society. It is gratifying to be looked up to, 
 with the deference universally shown to wealth. Perhaps 
 he has had experience ofstraitened circumstances in early 
 life, and cannot make too sure against its recurrence. 
 There is much liability to hazards, and losses ; and it is 
 prudent to be well provided. It would be a miserable 
 thing to suffer penury in old age."* Such are the pleas, 
 under which a miserly disposition hides itself, and keeps 
 the man who cherishes it, in countenance with himself. 
 Be not too sure, reader, that this poisonous principle has 
 had nothing to do with your pursuit of money. It ope- 
 rates much as certain serpents are fabled to do, which 
 charm their victim, so that after flying round and round, 
 unconscious of its danger, it rushes into the coil of the 
 destroyer, and is pierced by his fangs. Thus, the viper 
 of avarice, unless you are cautious, will infuse his venom 
 into your blood, and you will be beyond the possibility of 
 a cure. A miser is formed by the maturity of those pas- 
 sions which have already begun their growth in your 
 heart. 
 
 2. We would all, doubtless, prefer to believe that we 
 have been wholly influenced by a regard to the advan- 
 tages which wealth confers upon its possessor. And 
 this is unquestionably the more general motive that influ- 
 ences men in the pursuit of it, and is never lost sight of 
 
 * Foster. 
 
70 USES OF WEALTH. 
 
 except in those extreme cases, in which avarice has 
 grown into a species of insanity. Taking it for granted, 
 therefore, that such is our motive, we will subjoin this 
 caution, let us be sure and restrict our passion within the 
 limits of the actual ability of its object to confer good. Its 
 utility or power of conferring good being the only basis of 
 its value, as it must of necessity measure and define the 
 extent of that value, ought also to be the exact measure 
 of our passion for it. Whenever our passion becomes 
 more intense than the value or utility of earthly treasure 
 will justify, it will be followed by a counteraction pro- 
 portioned to that excess, and thus the thing which we so 
 much desired, and which, when kept in due bounds is cal- 
 culated to be so useful, will become to us a source of vexa- 
 tious disappointment. It is owing to this, that so many 
 pine in the midst of abundance, or terminate even in a 
 successful business career in misery and suicide. 
 
 The feelings of one who has been the victim of this 
 excess are exquisitely painted in the following lines, by 
 Dr. Leyden, supposed to be the address of a disappointed 
 man to an Indian gold coin; and which I introduce, partly 
 because they contain a more graphic painting of the fea- 
 ture of human nature to which we allude, than any I could 
 give, and partly because they will furnish a clue to a few 
 reflections on the subject that may be profitable. 
 
 '' Slave of the dark and dirty mine ! 
 
 What vanity has brought thee here? 
 How can I love to see tdee shine 
 
 So bright, whom I have bought so dear 7— 
 
 The tent-ropes flapping lone J hear, 
 Tor twilight converse arm in arm ; 
 
 The jackall's shriek bursts on my ear, 
 When mirth and music wont to charm— 
 
USES OF WfiALTIf. 71 
 
 By Cherical's dark wandering streams, 
 
 Wherj cane- tufts shadow all the wild; 
 Sweet visions haunt my wakmg dreams, 
 
 Of Teviot lov'd while still a child. 
 
 Ofcastl'd rocks stupendous pd'd 
 By Esk or Eden's classic wave ; 
 
 Where loves of youth and friendship smiled, 
 Uncursed by thee, vile yellow slave ! 
 
 Fade, day-dreams sweet, from memory fade ! — 
 
 The perished bliss of youth's first prime, 
 That once so bright on fancy play'd, 
 
 Revives no more in after- time. 
 
 Far from my sacred natal clime, 
 I haste to an untimely grave ; 
 
 The daring thoughts that soared sublime 
 Are sunk in ocean's southern wave. 
 
 Slave of the mine ! thy yellow light, 
 
 Gleams baleful as the tomb-fire drear ; 
 A gentle vision comes by night, 
 
 My lonely, widowed heart to cheer. 
 
 Her eyes are dim with many a tear, 
 That once were guiding stars to mine ; 
 
 Her fond heart throbs with many a fear; 
 I cannot bear to see thee shine. 
 
 For thee, for thee, vile yellow slave, 
 
 I lelt a heart that loved me true ; 
 I crossed the tedious ocean- wave. 
 
 To roam in climes unkind and new. 
 
 The cold wind of the stranger blew 
 Chill on my withered heart : — the grave. 
 
 Dark and untimely met my view. 
 And all for thee, vile yellow slave. 
 
 Ha ! com'st thou now so late to mock, 
 A wanderer's banish'd heart forlorn ; 
 
 Now that his frame the lightning shock. 
 Of sun-rays tipt with death, has borne 1 
 From love, from friendship, country torn, 
 
 To memory's fond regrets the prey ; 
 Vile slave, thy yellow dross I scorn ; 
 
 Go, mix thee with thy kindred clay."* 
 
 Now, these feelings are not produced by the bare fact 
 of visiting foreign climes for lucre ; but by doing it under 
 
 * Extracted from Lacon. 
 
72 USES OF WEALTH. 
 
 the influence of an excessive passion for the object. And 
 that passion once cherished, will be sure to produce results 
 ultimately prejudicial to our happiness, whether it finds 
 vent for itself in the fruitless regrets of an exile fronn the 
 endearments of earlier years, or in other forms of wo 
 that may spring up in the midst of those endearments. 
 Being an effect solely of the excess of the passion, where- 
 ever the cause exists, they will show themselves. It 
 would annihilate commerce, and undermine some of the 
 more important interests of the human condition, if the 
 misery depicted in the foregoing lines were the necessary 
 result of sailing over Indian seas in quest of gain. Com. 
 merce has already done much to improve the civil, intel- 
 lectual, and moral, as well as the physical condition of the 
 world, and is destined to occupy a prominent place among 
 the means of accomplishing the benevolent designs of 
 heaven to our race. And a man may embark in foreign 
 enterprise, may encounter the tedious ocean-wave, may 
 hear the tent-ropes flapping in the desert-breeze, and the 
 dismal shrieks of the jackal, may feel the cold winds of the 
 stranger ; all, in quest of gain too, without having occa- 
 sion to regret the pursuit, or to sigh for forsaken scenes 
 provided only his passion for the object is restricted within 
 the limits of its actual power of conferring good, and is 
 accompanied by a settled purpose of employing what he 
 acquires for the glory of God and the benefit of mankind. 
 Every thing depends upon the motives and feelings under 
 which a man acts in the pursuit of wealth, and the use he 
 makes of it when obtained, in regard to the happiness or 
 misery of which it is instrumental to himself. How ought 
 
USES OF WEALTH. 73 
 
 these considerations, therefore, to moderate a passion* 
 which is ever liable to beconne excessive to the infinite 
 ioischief of him in whom it exists ! 
 
 3. The next question is, whether the different kinds of 
 good which our worldly resources enable us to purchase, 
 have been duly regarded and provided for, according to 
 the respective importance of each? As we have intimated, 
 the value of money is not intrinsic and absolute, but rela- 
 tive. Its value arises wholly from, and is in proportion to, 
 the amount of good, physical, intellectual, and moral, which 
 it enables us to purchase. " To create objects that have 
 any kind of utility, is to create wealth ; for the utility of 
 things is the ground-work of their value."* The parched 
 and famished traveller on an African desert, who found 
 nothing but gold in the bag from which he expected bread 
 and wine, realized the force of this truth. Gold, under 
 those circumstances, had no value to him, because it could 
 procure him no good. Hence, that man makes his money 
 the most valuable, who contrives to purchase with it the 
 greatest amount of positive good. A little that a righteous 
 man hath, on this principle, is better than the riches of 
 many wicked : and wealth is turned to the best account 
 when it is assigned its proper place in the affections, when 
 it is forced into human service, and is distributed among 
 the various objects upon which it ought to be laid out, in 
 due proportion to their respective value. 
 
 To enable the reader to judge whether he has distri- 
 buted his money in this manner, or is in the way of doing 
 it, let us contemplate these objects separately, and as we 
 
 ♦ Say's Political Economy ; Am. ed. p. 66. 
 
 7 
 
74 TJSES OP WEALTH* 
 
 pass along, he may be able by looking over his pecuniary 
 transactions, from first to last, to form a tolerable estimate 
 of the proportionate value which he has attached to 
 eachi 
 
 These objects are, 1. The means of support : 2. Of 
 intellectual and moral improvement : 3. Provision for fU' 
 ture use and necessity : 4. The embellishments and luxa* 
 ties of life : and, 5. The favorable regards of society, 
 
 1. The means of support include a provision for our 
 bodily wants. To keep the wheels of life in motion, we 
 must have a regular supply of food, of raiment, of medi- 
 cines, when we are sick, of heat to prepare our food and 
 keep us warm when it is cold, of skilful helpers when we 
 are unable to help ourselves ; and of the various other 
 things included in the list of man's physical necessities. 
 And God has placed us under such laws, that these things 
 cannot be obtained without our own exertions, or those of 
 others, in procuring them for us. And as money contains 
 a representative value of the means of subsistence, it may 
 for this reason be pursued ; and when obtained, it should be 
 one of the first objects to provide ourselves with these, un- 
 less we are already supplied by a direct application to 
 those sources in nature, from which they may be obtained. 
 A bare subsistence, however, though first in the list of in- 
 ducements to pursue property, or for laboring to invest 
 matter with utility, is really, less thought of by most than 
 any other, and is, in fact, but a small item compared with 
 the resources in the hands of civilized man. We have 
 all doubtless given this item its due place in our plans of 
 expenditure. 
 
USES OF WEALTH. 75 
 
 2. In addition to our physical are our intellectual and 
 moral wants. We are not naturally endowed with the 
 blessings of knowledge, or the resources of intellect, but 
 have them to acquire by mental exertion, in connection with 
 the aid of books, living instructors, travelling, experi- 
 ments, philosophical implements, and other means neces- 
 sary to assist the mind in the pursuit of its object. And 
 do not all these things have a cash value as much as food 
 or raiment ? 
 
 The same may be said of the means of moral cultiva- 
 tion. The latter, however, is more difficult to be 
 perceived than the former ; for there is a general im- 
 pression, that as grace is free, and salvation without 
 money and without price, our religious teachers ought 
 to impart their instructions free of charge. Hence, not a 
 few regard all they pay to the ministers of religion as a 
 mere gratuity. Urge upon them the duty of lending to 
 the Lord, and they will tell you that they do it already, 
 being in the habit of giving thus and so for the support of 
 religion in their own town. If, therefore, those calls for 
 their money which they consider indispensable are nu- 
 merous, and any misfortune has cut short a part of their 
 ordinary income, the first point on which they think of 
 retrenchment is to give less, or none at all to the minister- 
 Now, this is one of the most singular perversions of which 
 one can well conceive. The truth is, what a man pays to 
 procure for himself and household, the means of moral in- 
 struction, or to promote religion in his own town, is no 
 more a charity than what he pays to establish schools for 
 the benefit of his own children. And the latter might 
 
76 USES OF WEALTH. 
 
 with equal propriety, be considered as a sacrifice upon the 
 altar of beneficence, as the former. From what prin- 
 ciple in nature, or from what passage in revelation, 
 do we derive the notion, that moral instruction has not a 
 cash value ? Is it not as important an element in the 
 civil and social condition of man, and in the management 
 of his affairs, even as an inhabitant of the physical world, 
 as any other ? Have we not a moral nature that needs 
 cultivation, as well as a physical ? And does not success 
 in the management of our daily concerns, in promoting 
 domestic enjoyments, in preserving the peace of communi- 
 ties, in the establishment and right direction of govern- 
 ments, and in every thing necessary to man as an in* 
 habitant of this world, as well as the expectant of another, 
 imperiously require that kind of cultivation of his moral 
 nature which religion aims at accomplishing ? No educa- 
 tion is complete from which the passions, moral sense, 
 and religious hopes are excluded. Such being the fact, 
 how are we to expect that an order of men will devote 
 their lives to imparting moral and religious instruction, 
 without being entitled to a physical compensation in some 
 degree proportioned to the value of their services? 
 " Whenever" observes the political economist, " the in- 
 tervention of a superhuman power appears necessary to 
 ensure the good conduct of mankind in their natural rela- 
 tions, those who assume to be the interpreters of that power 
 must be paid for their services. If their labor be useful, 
 its utility is an immaterial product, which has a real 
 value." 
 
 Such is the voice of reason ; and revelation speaks 
 
TISES OF WEALTH. 77 
 
 the same language. Our Saviour, when he sent out his 
 apostles, directed thenn to take nothing with them, but to 
 live upon those for whom they labored, for this important 
 reason that, the laborer is worthy of his reward. The 
 apostle also, by inquiring of the Corinthian church, 
 Have we not power to eat and drink? intended to affirm 
 that they had power to demand pecuniary compensation 
 for their labors. To the same purpose also are the 
 following interrogatories. Who goeth a warfare any time 
 at his own charges? Who planteth a vineyard and 
 eateth not of the fruit thereof ? Or who feedeth a flock, 
 and eateth not of the milk of the flock? Then, after 
 showing that the command not to muzzle the mouth of the 
 ox that treadeth out the corn, was given in behalf of 
 Christian ministers, and that it is the privilege of those 
 who wait at the altar, to be partaker with the altar, he 
 lays down this position and explicit principle — even so hath 
 the Lord ordained that they which preach the gospel, 
 should live of the gospel.* Hence, all that a man pays to 
 procure for himself and household, the accommodations of 
 public worship, or religious instruction, such as his con- 
 tributions for the erection of a meeting-house in his own 
 town, with its fixtures, to support his minister ; together 
 with what he pays for bibles and other l^ooks of religion 
 to be used in his own family, must be wholly stricken 
 from the list of his charities, and set to the account of his 
 debt. 
 
 It is for you to determine, reader, whether in the ex- 
 penditure of your income, you have shown a proper care 
 ♦ 1 Cor. 9, 1—14. 
 7* 
 
?9 rSES OF WEALTH. 
 
 to procure religious instruction, or to pay its value when 
 obtained. The apostle set so high a price upon this kind 
 of property, that he intimated to Philemon, whom he had 
 taught the truths of Christianity, that he was not only 
 under obligation to grant his request in reference to his 
 former servant Onesimus, but he adds; Albeit I do not 
 say to thee how thou owesl unto me even thine ownself 
 besides.* So far from having performed charity in this 
 way, it is to be feared that there are long arrears of debt 
 against you ; and if the hire of the laborers who have 
 reaped down your fields, does not cry against you, perhaps 
 that of those who have wrought in the spiritual harvest, 
 has entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth, de. 
 manding instant redress. Have you assigned to intellect- 
 ual and moral advantages, the place you ought in the 
 expenditure of your income? 
 
 3. It is doubtless proper that we should, if possible, lay 
 up in store a portion of our income for future use and ne- 
 cessiiy. A variety of considerations show that the desire 
 of accumulation moderately indulged, is not only proper, 
 but necessary, to the great interests of human society. 
 Without capital how could the wheels of business be kept 
 in motion, or the poor find means of earning a subsistence ? 
 Capital is as necessary to the production of things valua- 
 ble, as natural agents or the industry of man. What could 
 workmen do without tools, without being previously provi' 
 ded with the means of subsistence, and without the raw 
 materials of their business ? Furthermore, no man can 
 be certain that he shall not be disabled many years be- 
 fore his death, so as to be incapable of creating an income 
 
 ♦ Philemon 19. 
 
USES OF WEALTH. 79 
 
 by his exertions ; and in that case he would be dependent 
 on others, unless he had provided for such an emergency 
 by laying up in store a portion of what he earned, when 
 his faculties were entire. " Common prudence would 
 counsel," says an acute writer on this subject, " to provide 
 against casualties. Who can say with certainty, that his 
 income will not fall off, or that his fortune is exempt from 
 the injustice, the fraud, or the violence of mankind ? Lands 
 may be confiscated ; ships may be wrecked ; litigation 
 may involve him in expenses and uncertainties. The 
 richest merchant is liable to be ruined by one unlucky spe- 
 culation, or by the failure of others. Were he to spend his 
 whole income, his capital might, in all probability would, 
 be continually on the decline." 
 
 Moreover, money is productive ; and hence, when a 
 man has it to a certain extent, he can live upon its nett 
 proceeds, devoting himself to intellectual pursuits, to travel- 
 ling, to direct labors of beneficence, or any other course 
 to which his inclination may impel him. I shall not say 
 that the desire of accumulation for such an object would 
 contravene any principle of duty, provided it were kept in 
 due subordination. But it is useless for me to enumerate 
 the reasons that should lead us to expend a part of our 
 income, (provided we can do it without refusing an indis- 
 pensable call) upon a provision for future use and need ; 
 for I suppose we are already inclined in a sufficient de- 
 gree to make such a disposition of it. Indeed, has not this 
 engrossed our chief attention ? That it is really inferior 
 to those objects which we have previously noticed, must 
 be admitted. Why, therefore, should religion and intelli- 
 
80 TISES OF WEALTH. 
 
 gence, or even a competent supply of our wants, be thought 
 so much less of, in our schemes to make money, than that 
 of hoarding it for a future occasion, when death may per- 
 haps lurk between us and that occasion, to dissipate our 
 golden-dreams of blessedness. Alas, it is to be feared 
 that this object has received a very disproportionate atten- 
 tion with most, in their schemes of acquisition and expen- 
 diture ! 
 
 4. Earthly treasure is also valuable as a means of 
 procuring the embellishments and luxuries of life. 
 
 We use these terms for the want of better. If our 
 meaning, however, is understood it is sufficient. We sup- 
 pose that in dress, furniture, education of children, style of 
 architecture, and other things, persons who are able may 
 indulge themselves somewhat beyond a bare conve- 
 nience. A provision may be made to some extent for the 
 mere purpose of pleasing the eye, the ear, and to gratify 
 a refined taste. This provision we call embellishment. 
 In hke manner the appetites may be indulged some- 
 what beyond what would be palatable and nourishing. 
 Some provision may be made for the mere purpose of 
 gratification. This we call luxury. 
 
 When this provision in either case is carried be- 
 yond certain limits, it degenerates into extravagance. 
 Apart from all considerations of piety, nature teaches that 
 this provision should always be moderate. When it is 
 otherwise it brings more pain than pleasure. 
 
 If persons, from motives of piety, and that they may 
 have the more time and means of doing good, forego all 
 beyond a comfortable provision, we think it highly merito- 
 
USES OF WEALTH. 81 
 
 rious and praiseworthy. The reasons spread out before 
 a pious mind for such acts of self-denial, are numerous 
 and weighty. 
 
 Still, by giving us a taste for embellishment and lux- 
 ury, as well as by providing the means of its gratification^ 
 God clearly shows that it is his pleasure to indulge us with 
 the good things of this world, to an extent somewhat be- 
 yond the limit of our real wants. The earth might be strip- 
 ped of the garnishing of its flowers, of the greenness of its 
 foliage, of the music of its birds, and of its ten thousand 
 other beauties and sublimities; it might spare its spicy 
 groves, its delicious fruits, and its profusion of luxuries, and 
 yet retain all the means of subsistence to its inhabitants. 
 But, having furnished us with a fondness for these things, 
 God meets the consequent demand, and around we see 
 
 " Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, 
 And liquid lapse of murm'ring streams, by these, 
 Creatures that live and move, and walk and fly — 
 Birds on the branches warbling ; all things smile, 
 With fragrance and with joy man's heart o'erfiows."* 
 
 It should be considered, however, that as sin has de- 
 prived the world of much of its original garnishing, and 
 doomed its inhabitants to innumerable miseries, it is rather 
 suitable to us in our present situation, to wear the gar- 
 ments of humiliation than those of joy and gladness. This 
 circumstance, as well as the continual scenes of sickness, 
 poverty, ignorance, vice, and death, through which we 
 pass to the tomb, should suggest to us the propriety of 
 valuing our money less for the elegancies and luxuries 
 which it enables us to purchase, than the ability which it 
 
 * Milton. 
 
82 USES OP WEALTH. 
 
 affords ofdolng good. "An act of beneficence, that trench- 
 es on the personal enjoyments of the benefactor is deserv- 
 ing of the highest praise." It is a great misfortune, be- 
 sides involving deep criminality, that the amount expend- 
 ed upon embellishment and luxury is so much greater 
 than what is laid out upon the wants and woes of hu- 
 man nature. A moiety of what is wasted upon the 
 former objects would not only give the whole world a 
 competent support, but would enable them to indulge mod- 
 erately in embellishment and luxury. ** The man of 
 wealth and ostentation squanders upon costly trinkets, 
 sumptuous repasts, magnificent mansions, dogs, horses, 
 and mistresses, a portion of value, which, vested in produc- 
 tive occupation, would enable a multitude of willing labor- 
 ers, whom his extravagance now consigns to idleness and 
 misery, to provide themselves with warm clothing, nour- 
 ishing food, and household conveniences. The gold buckles 
 of the rich man leave the poor one without shoes to his 
 feet ; and the laborer will want a shirt to his back, while 
 his rich neighbor glitters in velvet and embroidery."* 
 Such are the inevitable consequences of the extravagance 
 in living which we indulge. The poor are perishing for 
 the bread wasted upon our tables, for the clothing thrown 
 away upon our persons and dwellings, and for all the 
 treasure which our reckless passions destroy. Let these 
 considerations, therefore, moderate our passion for embel- 
 lishment and luxury, and lead us, first of all, to make such 
 a disposition of our property, as will render it instrument 
 
 ♦ Say's Political Economy, p- 414. 
 
USES OF WEALTH* 83 
 
 tal in alleviating the burden of parents whose hands are 
 the only means of support to helpless groups of children, 
 of affording instruction and comfort to ignorant and perish- 
 ing multitudes, and thus of diminishing the pains and mul- 
 tiplying the enjoyments, of correcting the vice and in- 
 creasing the virtue of poor, afflicted, and wayward human 
 nature. 
 
 Finally, perhaps a man might have some reference to 
 ihe favorable regards of society, or to the influence which 
 wealth gives, as a motive in its accumulation and expendi- 
 ture, and yet not offend against the claims of duty. Just 
 or unjust, we are so constituted as to feel a respect for those 
 who have in their hands large accumulations, or the 
 means of encircling themselves with earthly good. This 
 influence is vastly increased, however, when these accu- 
 mulations are turned iuto channels of public utility. To 
 have it, therefore, in hands who should not pervert it, but 
 make it subservient to the interests of virtue, of religion, 
 of intelligence, of humanity, and of whatever exalts the 
 condition and ennobles the character of man, is devoutly 
 to be desired. And perhaps there may be virtue and dis- 
 interestedness enough in some, to desire the influence 
 which wealth gives, merely for the purpose of wielding it 
 to the glory of God, and the good of mankind. At all 
 events, we can conceive of no direliction of duty in har- 
 boring such a motive, and no reason why Christians should 
 not feel themselves bound to act under its influence. 
 
 Upon this survey, reader, what is the result ? Which 
 of these motives has had the greatest influence in your 
 plans of accumulation, and for which of the foregoing ob- 
 
84 * USES OF WEALTH. 
 
 jects does the most of your money go ? Remember that you 
 will never obtain the greatest good from your income, 
 until you duly and conscientiously distribute it among the 
 various objects of utility which it is capable of promoting. 
 When this is done, you will so far be entitled to the ap- 
 proval of well done, good and faithful servant, forasmuch 
 as you have been faithful over a few things, I will make 
 you ruler over many. 
 
 The last inquiry, whether if we have duly provided 
 the advantages of wealth for ourselves and dependences, 
 we have done as much as we ought to bestow them upon 
 others, we must leave for another chapter. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Vindication of aystematic beneficence by arguments drawn from 
 the principles of our nature, and the constitution of things. 
 
 Having noticed the different kinds of good which 
 may be purchased with earthly treasure, it becomes a 
 question /or whom a man having such treasure, or the 
 means of procuring it, ought to lay out. That his oWn 
 physical, intellectual, and moral wants deserve a primary 
 regard, will not be doubted. The placing of ourselves in 
 a condition to be above dependence vn others, being a 
 duty which we owe alike to ourselves and to society, 
 should take precedence of every thing else in our plans 
 of acquiring and expending property. This principle is 
 recognized in the Scriptures, when they say. Let him that 
 stole steal no more ; but rather let him labor, working 
 with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have 
 to give to him that needeth. If our wants are not pro- 
 vided for by our own industry, they must be by stealth or 
 other dishonorable means. But in providing for our- 
 selves as we ought, we may secure in greater or less de- 
 grees the means of beneficence to others, or of giving to 
 him that needeth. Even if it is small, still the obligations 
 of beneficence are fulfilled not less by the widow's two 
 
 8 
 
g6 tEilSONAL ^ENEtll'S. 
 
 ttiites, when it is duly proportioned to her means, than hy 
 those whose resources enable them to give largely. 
 
 There are many ways, however, in which a man may 
 lay out money for his personal advantage, without expend- 
 ing it directly upon himself. What he pays for the support 
 of government, though it goes into hands remote from his 
 own, is so much taken from his estate as a means of pro- 
 tecting the rest. ** Without this protection of each indi- 
 vidual by the united force of the whole community," says 
 a distinguished writer, *' it is impossible to conceive any 
 considetable development of the productive powers of 
 man, of land, and of capital ; or even to conceive the 
 e^^istenee of capital at all j for it is nothing more than 
 accumulated value operating under the safeguard of au- 
 thority. This is the reason why no nation has ever ar* 
 rived at any degreeof opulence, that ha^not been subject 
 to a regular government. Civilised nations are indebted 
 to political organization for the innumerable and infinitely 
 various productions that satisfy their wants, as well as for 
 the fine arts, and the opportunities of leisure that accu- 
 mulation affords, without which the faculties of the mind 
 GOlild never' 'be cultivated, or man by their means attain 
 the full dignity, whereof his nature is susceptible. The 
 poor man, that can call nothing his own, is equally inte- 
 rested with the rich in upholding the inviolability of pro- 
 perty. His personal services would not be available, 
 without the aid of accumulations previously made and 
 protected."* State revenue, therefore, is money paid by 
 individuals composing the state for their own personal se* 
 ♦ Say's Political Economy, page 135, 136. 
 
PERSONAL BENEFITS. QT- 
 
 curity. The same may be said of money expended upon 
 public works of ornament or utility in the neighborhood 
 of a man's possessions. It is paid for a public good, in 
 which the individual is to be a joint partaker with others. 
 In the same class may be ranked whatever is givon to 
 purchase friends, to obtain th« reputation of liberality, to 
 free oneself from the annoyance of a beggar, to raise him- 
 self in the estimation of others, or to enlist their service 
 in procuring office or any other advantage. True, though 
 it may be that, 
 
 " From motives such as these, tho' not the best, 
 Springs in due time supply for the distress'd"*— 
 
 yet monies expended thus have self for their object, not 
 less than what a man gives for his own food, or for any 
 other personal comfort. The same may be said of those 
 gifts, which are used as the balm of a disturbed conscience, 
 and of those death -bed gratuities which are intended to 
 make amends for a life of rapine and covetousness. 
 '* Some will part with their riches," says an old writer, 
 ** when they can keep them no longer. This is like a 
 cut-purse, who being espied or pursued, will drop a purse 
 of gold, because he can keep it no longer." Now in all 
 these ways, an individual may lay out money, and yet do 
 it wholly from selfish motives, as much as in what he 
 pays for his daily bread. 
 
 Next to provision for oneself is that which he is re- 
 -quired to make for his wife, children, and those who have 
 ^. natural claim upon him for the means of subsistence, 
 
 * Cowper. 
 
08 PROVISION FOR one's FAMILY. 
 
 They are a part of himself, the little community over 
 which he enjoys a monopoly of right, and his own in- 
 terest is identified whh theirs. It is with reference to 
 advancing children in the world, and giving them the 
 means of moving in an honorable circle that most parents 
 feel chiefly concerned to accumulate fortunes. All the 
 means of happiness, therefore, which they purchase for 
 them are to be viewed in the light of an equivalent for the 
 money paid, not less than those which they buy for 
 themselves. It is not charity to support one's own house- 
 hold. So far duty is understood with sufficient clear- 
 ness. 
 
 The point, therefore, which requires to be secured, is the 
 settlement of those principles regarding the use of money 
 which are stated in a previous chapter ; that the devoting 
 of a portion of it to God by procuring for the needy ^ 
 witJiout the prospect of remuneration, the same good of 
 which we ought to make it instrumental to ourselves, should 
 stand on a level with our own support, and should he 
 provided for with the same care, forethought and regula- 
 rity. 
 
 With the means at command of converting the physical 
 elements to human use, what can be more important than 
 that we should understand/br whose henefit we are bound 
 to employ them ? If God placed them in our hands for 
 the benefit of others as well as ourselves, and designed 
 that one portion should go as a gratuity to the improve- 
 ment of the human character and condition, as much -as 
 that another portion should be expended for our own use, 
 and yet, we are guilty of arrogating the whole to our- 
 
FEELINGS OF HUMANITY. 89 
 
 selves, how can we ansvv-or for the robbery, or meet the 
 poor in judgment, to whose destruction we have been 
 accessory ? 
 
 1. The duty of providing such a systematic gratuity 
 for the good of others, finds support from ouv feelings of 
 humanity. 
 
 That an individual has a legal and equitable right to 
 all the worldly property which has fallen to him oy 
 legacy, which he has procured by his own industry and 
 good management, or by other just and honorable means, 
 is too plain to admit of controversy.* No one has a right 
 to wrest it from him by violence, or to claim it otherwise 
 than by presenting an equivalent which he shall volunta- 
 rily accept. Still, there may be cases in which a man 
 would incur as much guilt by refusing to bestow a portion 
 of his property without an equivalent, as he would by 
 withholding it where he is legally bound. God can make 
 a draught upon us, that may indeed be resisted with legal 
 impunity, but which even the worst kind of men could 
 not resist but at the expense of awakening in themselves 
 as keen a sense of remorse as they would koi, if they 
 should defraud a creditor of his honest dues. Would not 
 that landlord, who in his morning walk, should find a 
 mother with an infant' at her breast frozen to death, in 
 consequence of having been the evening previous driven 
 from his door by his own inhuman parsimony, feel the 
 anguish of remorse as much as if he had been guilty of a 
 
 "The right of property, as defined by jurists, is the right of use, 
 or even of abuse." Say's Political Economy, p. 133, 
 
 8 
 
90 LOVE OF OFFSPRING. 
 
 flagrant breach of legal trust ? And would not the moral 
 sense of a community impute to him as foul a misde- 
 meanor, if not even more so, in the one case as in the 
 other. Of the two there are probably more that would 
 evade the force of legal engagements, than there are that 
 would refuse to give their property for the purpose of 
 mitigating present misery, or to save human life. Hence, 
 though our property is our own, and we are not amenable 
 at any earthly tribunal for withholding it where we are 
 not legally bound ; yet, there may be cases, where wo 
 are not thus bound, in which we should equally feel the 
 obligation of bestowing it. God has interwoven with our 
 natures so much sympathy in the sufferings of others, 
 that we are involuntarily impelled to the sacrifice of 
 money for their relief, when we have no prospect of re- 
 muneration. Humanity will, for the moment, relax the 
 clench of our parsimony, and make us liberal against all 
 our previous habits. 
 
 This feature in the economy of human nature, though 
 somewhat less active than the love of children, speaks a 
 language altogether as unequivocal. It was as obviously 
 intended as an inducement for us to interest ourselves in 
 the happiness of men as such, and to provide for the alle- 
 viation of their woes, as the love of children is, to impel 
 us to provide for their support. Indeed, every feature of 
 the animal economy has its specific use. We cannot 
 mistake the intention of nature in the attachment for 
 their young, which we discover in birds, beasts, and all 
 inferior animals. This is the only means of their support 
 during that period in which they are incapable of provid- 
 
ITS DESIGN NOT MISTAKEN. 91 
 
 ing for themselves ; and hence, without it, every animal 
 species would become extinct. But when this period is 
 passed, and the end is gained for which God designed 
 their love of offspring, it ceases, and animals feel little 
 or nothing for each other's sufferings and wants. If God 
 had rendered brutes permanently dependant on each 
 other, as he has men, he would doubtless have made their 
 mutual interest in each other's sufferings, permanent and 
 universal. In that case, we could no more have mistaken 
 the design of this interest, than we can now mistake the 
 design for which the dam is made to love her young. 
 How, therefore, can we doubt that the great Author of 
 our being intended, by giving us a permanent sympathy 
 in each other's sufferings, that beneficence should enter 
 into the ordinary calculations of life, as much as the sup- 
 ply of our own wants '? We have no difficulty in under- 
 standing that as the love of children is permanent, the 
 obligations of that relation are so too. We always feel for 
 our children, and we think them very ungrateful, unless 
 they feel for us in return. Our dearest possessions we 
 cheerfully consign to them, and esteem no labor too great 
 for their welfare. And yet, though we are conscious of 
 having feelings of humanity, cannot look upon a spec- 
 tacle of poverty and misery without sympathy, and would 
 even be ashamed to have it thought we could ; how few 
 there are that interpret this principle into an obligation to 
 the systematic practice of beneficence ? They can un- 
 derstand that provision for their famihes ought to enter 
 into all their calculations ^bout making and expending 
 
93 DICTATES OF BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 money, but cannot comprehend how they should be re- 
 quired to give place also to the wants of others. 
 
 Perhaps it may be objected, that these animal sym- 
 pathies, of which we speak, are never excited except in 
 the direct view of a suffering object, that we cannot 
 feel them for those who are distant, and that, therefore, all 
 that is required of us is to obey their impulses, so far as 
 to give relief to those afflicted persons who come in our 
 way. This objection would have weight, if it were made 
 in reference to the inferior tribes, which, being des- 
 titude of reason, can be operated upon only by appeal- 
 ing directly to their senses. But with us it is differ- 
 ent; our reason teaches us that misery is misery, whe- 
 ther we see it or not, and that there is never a time when 
 objects of want do not call for our benefactions. If there 
 are none to need temporal relief, there are ignorant per- 
 sons to be instructed, and vicious to be reclaimed ; and for 
 these we ought to expend our money not less than to feed 
 a starving man. We have only to exercise the reason 
 which. God has given us, in reflecting that there are at all 
 times persons to be benefited by our contributions, to 
 keep alive in us those sympathies, which would lead us 
 on the spur of the monient to give relief to an object of 
 wretchedness. Not only so, though we have noticed 
 only the animal sympathies^ because somewhat less equi- 
 vocal, it should he remembered that, as intelligent 
 beings, we are capable of acting under the higher dictates 
 of benevolence. These impel us to take an interest in 
 the welfare of man, as such, without regard to sectional 
 clivisions, or the ties of kindred. They constitute one of 
 
DICTATES OF BENEVOLENCE. §8 
 
 the most exalted features of our nature, by which, not less 
 than by its rational faculties, it is distinguished from infe- 
 rior animals, and the systematic exercise of it, would do 
 much to alleviate the miseries of the world. Nor let it 
 be supposed, that as individuals, we are excused from 
 doing any thing, because the little we are capable of 
 doing comes so far short of the much that needs to be 
 done. It is by reasoning thus that many, doubtless, are 
 detered from adopting any system of charity. 
 
 But let us do our duty and others may be encouraged to 
 do theirs , and thus the good influence may propagate itself 
 like leaven in meal, till it is spread over the world. And 
 when every man makes the doing of good to others one 
 of the objects of his labor, as much as supporting himself 
 and family, and regularly contributes in this way a due 
 proportion of his income, the aggregate will be sufficient 
 to change the entire aspect of human society, physically 
 intellectually, and morally. If it cannot be proved to the 
 satisfaction of the mere political economist, that nine- tenths 
 of the population must inevitably remain in that degree of 
 misery and semi-^barbarism which they are found in at 
 present in most of the countries of Europe,"* it ought 
 certainly to be impossible for the Christian to believe that 
 any such necessity exists. Are the followers of Him 
 who gave his life a ransom for the world, and who left 
 it in charge with his church to disciple all nations, the 
 men to esteem plans of human improvement, E Utopian, 
 or to be terrified from embarking in them by the small- 
 
 * Say, a06. 
 
94 UTILITY OF THE PRINCIPLE. 
 
 ness of their number ? Their Christian profession involves 
 a pledge to take the lead in all plans of beneficence, at 
 every expense of physical and moral energy, and in this 
 way to live unto Him who died for them and rose again. 
 
 Here, then, we have in our own bosoms, an argument 
 in support of the position that we ought to adopt a liberal 
 system of expenditure, without the prospect of remunera- 
 tion, in purchasing for others the same advantages which 
 we need for ourselves. We are impelled to such a sacri- 
 fice, both by our animal sympathies, and by the noblest 
 feelings of our nature. He that hath pity upon the poor 
 lendeth unto God, and that which he hath given will he 
 pay him again.* 
 
 2. The utility of this principle, when reduced to prac- 
 tice, affords concurrent testimony to its truth. 
 
 That God is a Spirit, unaffected by the accidents and 
 changes of matter, is a truth in which all will concur. 
 He has no ear to be charmed with vocal harmony, no eye 
 to be dazzled with the fascinations of painting, no taste to 
 be regaled with ambrosial fruits and flowing nectar, like 
 the gods that flourish in the visions of paganism, and no 
 feeling to luxuriate amid the pleasures of sense. He can 
 receive earthly gifts only through the medium of those 
 for whom he is peculiarly interested to provide them. A 
 cup of cold water given to a disciple in the name of a 
 disciple, he declares, shall in no wise lose its reward. 
 The food, and drink, and lodging, and clothing, and visits 
 on a sick bed and in prison, which the least of his saints 
 
 ♦ Prov. xix,, 17,- 
 
ITTILITY OF THE PRINCIPLE. 95 
 
 ireceive, he accepts as done to himself. And the Psalmist, 
 conscious of his incapacity to bestow any advantage upon 
 God, observes, My goodness extendeth not to thee, but to 
 the saints that are in the earth, and the excellent in whom 
 is all my delight. Hence, in prescribing toman the modes 
 of his worship, God is governed, if I may so speak, by a 
 regard to what is most useful to men. The principle of 
 utility runs throughout all the divine injunctions and pro- 
 hibitions, characterizing the whole ethical economy, and 
 subordinating it to the one great end of promoting the su- 
 preme good* Hence, life, blessings, prosperity, and every 
 advantage in this, and the life to come, are represented 
 in the scriptures, as involved in the practice of those du* 
 ties which God has enjoined upon men ; on the other hand, 
 every evil is represented as following in the train of dis- 
 obedience. All that hate me love death. 
 
 But in what way could the advantage of the human 
 species be so effectually promoted, as by setting every 
 one at work to do all possible good to the rest ? We can 
 hardly conceive of a principle, whose practical tendencies 
 would be so beneficial, as that which requires us to asso- 
 ciate a regular system of beneficence with our own sup- 
 port, in all our plans of acquiring and expending money — 
 For, there are perhaps as many openings for increasing 
 happiness and diminishing pain ; for diffusing knowledge 
 and dispelling ignorance ; for establishing virtue and 
 overthrowing vice — by giving money, as by any deeds 
 which we are capable of performing. If, therefore, the 
 utility of an action be an evidence that God requires it, 
 this will hold a prominent place on the list of our duties. 
 
96 IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 
 
 3. The idea of sacrifice and surrender is inseparable 
 from our conceptions of piety to God. 
 
 Whatever is an object of human desire, God has 
 placed under such restrictions, that in the use of it, his 
 authority may be acknowledged. The objects of desire 
 are those which give momentum to man, and he nevei* 
 acts but in view of them ; and the vigor of his actions is 
 usually proportioned to the strength of his desire* Hence* 
 it is to be supposed that the divine precepts would have 
 respect chiefly to such objects, and that they would be 
 placed under the heaviest contributions. It is hardly 
 necessary to restrict men in regard to things that have 
 little or no influence over their conduct. It being a mat- 
 ter of indiflerence with them in such cases, whether they 
 take one course or another, obedience would be no test of 
 their real feelings towards the Supreme Legislator. If a 
 government should levy its imposts only on objects which 
 no one in the country cared to introduce, what would it 
 gain? By subjecting the staple articles of trade to 
 duties, the government attains the double end of making 
 Its own power felt, and of filling its treasury. In 
 like manner, God asserts his right to control his creatures, 
 by causing his laws to take effect upon those things which 
 the heart of man the most highly esteems. We have an 
 instance of this in the command that Abraham should offer 
 up hie "only son as a burnt sacrifice. That devoted patri- 
 arch had lived so many years in habits of unremitted obe- 
 dience to God, that to have required of him no more than 
 the ordinary sacrifices of religion, would have led to no 
 remarkable development of his piety and faith. With 
 
OBJECTS OP DESIRE TAXED* 9t 
 
 \kese, long custom had rendered him familiar. Hence, God 
 demanded his only son, the son of his dotage, of his 
 prayers and dearest hopes, as best calculated to test the 
 strength of his faith. There was nothing in the universe 
 that Abraham could not have given up more easily than 
 Isaac ; and it was for this reason that Isaac was de- 
 manded, that it might more clearly appear, whether there 
 was any thing that took precedence in his affections to 
 the divine commandments. 
 
 David appears to have felt the force of this principle 
 when he made the following expression : Nay ; . but I 
 will surely buy it of thee at a price ; neither will I offer 
 burnt-offerings unto the Lord my God of that which doth 
 cost me nothing. So David bought the threshing-floor, 
 and the oxen, for fifty pieces of silver.* Offerings unac- 
 companied by cost and sacrifice, are, by no means, suited 
 to the feelings of one, who is conscious of owing every 
 thing to the goodness of God. 
 
 The same principle may be seen in every religious re-^ 
 quirement. God demands those things as evidences of 
 love to him, in which our affections are the most deeply 
 enlisted, and the surrender of which we feel to be a self- 
 denial. And some of his requirements, seem to have no 
 other design, than to obstruct the current of human incli- 
 nation, and thus to test the genuineness of man's allegiance. 
 We can see no other for the prohibition of a particular 
 tree in paradise, under which our first parents were placed, 
 and no other for many of the requirements of the Mosaic 
 
 * 2 Sam. xxiv. 24. 
 9 
 
98 WEALTH SUPREMELY ADORED. 
 
 law. The only good effect connected with their obser- 
 vance, was to evince a willingness on the part of man, to 
 act in a particular manner, solely on the strength of divine 
 authority. 
 
 Admitting the above reasoning to be correct, and what 
 should we suppose would be more likely to be laid under 
 contribution and restriction, than wealth, and those 
 passions which impel us to the pursuit of it? What has 
 enlisted a larger amount of desire and labor among men ? 
 For what are equal sacrifices made ? How cheerfully 
 are reputation, health, conscience, and even life staked for 
 the acquisition of money ! How are all oceans traversed, 
 all climates encountered, and all hazards incurred to 
 secure the glittering prize ! Can a Christian believe, 
 that his Redeemer requires him to make no expression of 
 love, in the use of an object which has been pursued with 
 such idolatrous devotion ? It is not sufficient to love in 
 word, but we must love in deed and in truth ! Judging 
 from the analogy of religious obligation, we might reasona- 
 bly conclude, that, if there were no other way of con- 
 secrating a portion of our income to God, it would be our 
 duty to pour it out before him, as David did the water that 
 was procured from the well of Bethlehem at the hazard 
 of life. We may say of our wealth, * I will not devote it 
 all to myself. It is the price of blood. It is the fruit of 
 too much toil and danger to be withheld from him to whom 
 I owe so much. It shall help me pay my vows to God« 
 Its consecration upon his altars shall do what it can, to 
 express the strong sense I feel of my utter incapacity to 
 make returns for the unspeakable gifts which his mercy 
 
NATURE IS ALL RECIPROCITY. 99 
 
 has bestowed upon me.' When such feelings, therefore, 
 which are the natural fruit of piety, concur with our 
 knowledge of the fact, that great good may be done by 
 the sacrifice of money, how should it happen that so little is 
 actually sacrificed ; that so few have adopted any system 
 of beneficence ? 
 
 4. This principle accords with the general reciprocity 
 which is apparent among the works of God. In the 
 machinery of nature, we see a mutual action and reaction 
 of all the parts upon each other. Animal contributes to 
 the production of animal, and vegetable, to vegetable life. 
 The blade of corn that springs up alone, bewails the ab- 
 sence of its species, and brings little fruit to perfection. 
 All the portions of matter are wisely balanced and adjust- 
 ed to each other, so that each contributes to the regularity 
 of the rest. In this way God contrives to make every 
 thing contribute to the perfection of the whole. The 
 sun pays a yearly tribute to vegetation ; vegetation 
 opens its inexhaustible stores for the sustentation of 
 animal and human life ; animals and men repay the 
 service to vegetation, by " cropping its abundance," and 
 by helping the useful plants to cope with their noxious and 
 more potent neighbors. The earth opens its caverns as a 
 resting place for the immensity of waters, and the waters 
 repay the service by moistening the dry land. All is 
 reciprocation. From what is least to what is greatest, 
 from a mote to a world, from a world to a system, from 
 a system to the entire structure of the universe, there is a 
 uniform action of thing upon thing, of substance upon 
 substance. The same is also seen in the mysterious 
 
too NATURE IS ALL RECIPROCITY. 
 
 action and reaction of matter and mind. And now, are 
 we to suppose that God has not subjected the human 
 family in relation to each other, to the same general 
 arrangement ? Or, if he has done it in some things, are 
 there others which are different ? Has he taxed one order 
 of gifts and not another ? The same God who has made 
 social intercourse so necessary to our happiness, who has 
 bound the distant portions of the human family together 
 by the ties of commerce, and by bestowing upon them a 
 common nature, doubtless intended that they should feel 
 for each other a reciprocation of interest. Nor is he 
 satisfied with having it evaporate in mere feeling ; but 
 intends that it shall impel them to the mutual performance 
 of kind offices in the use of their physical, intellectual, 
 and moral resources. In the necessities of our fellow- 
 men, he has provided a place for our pecuniary benefac- 
 tions, and requires us to do good unto all as we have 
 opportunity. 
 
 5. It is not to be supposed, that so heavenly a gift as 
 the true religion, can dwell on earthly ground, without im- 
 parting even to the grosser possessions of worldly property 
 an additional power of conferring happiness. Its nature 
 is too operative and influential, to admit of its being con- 
 fined to the region of thought, and feeling, and imagina- 
 tion. It cannot be buried in the secret recesses of the 
 soul. It seeks development, and must have it, or like 
 life ejLcluded from vital air, will escape from its noxious 
 imprisonment. So divine a gift as a religion whose chief 
 element is benevolence, and whose author is love, cannot 
 exist in connection with matter, without conferring even 
 
MATTER IMPROVED BY RELIGION. 101 
 
 upon that, the power of diffusing richer blessings over the 
 soul and society of man. As the house of Obed-edom 
 and all that pertained to him were blessed on account of a 
 three month's residence of the ark of God in it, so now, 
 the goods, chattels, farms, merchandise, and every 
 worldly resource of a man will become doubly productive 
 of happiness, both to himself and others, by being under 
 the control of a heart supremely devoted to God. It is 
 thus that the meek inherit the earth, and godliness has the 
 promise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is 
 to come. Under its influence gold, silver, farms, and 
 merchandise will be quickened into noble and benevolent 
 action, and will go abroad to mitigate the woes of the un- 
 fortunate, to facilitate the march of intellect, and the 
 triumph of virtue. 
 
 " When religion mingles with us raeaner things, 
 'Tis even as if an angel shook his wings ; 
 Immortal fragrance fills the circuit wide 
 That tells us whence his treasures are supplied. 
 So when a ship well freighted with the stores 
 The sun matures on India's spicy shores, 
 Has dropp'd her anchor and her canvass furl'd 
 In some safe haven of our western world, 
 'Twere vain inquiry to what port she went, 
 The gale informs us, laden with the scent."* 
 
 Even the ground on which the celestial visitant stands 
 becomes holy, and more than Eden's bloom is restored to 
 our world. When such a religion comes to be universal, 
 the golden age of the poets will be realized, the tears of 
 sorrow will be wiped from every eye, the voice of oppres- 
 sion will be heard no more, and the principal woes of hu- 
 
 * Cowper. 
 9* 
 
102 
 
 man life will become extinct. *' For brass I will bring 
 gold, and for iron I will bring silver, and for wood, brass, 
 and for stones, iron : I will also make thy officers peace, 
 and thy exactors righteousness. Violence shall no more 
 be heard in thy land, wasting nor destruction within thy 
 borders : but thou shalt call thy walls Salvation, and thy 
 gates Praise."^ 
 
 * Isa. Ix. 17, 18. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Superabundant results of well-directed industry corroborates the 
 duty of systematic beneficence. 
 
 There are certain duties which may be as clearly- 
 deduced from our character and circumstances, as from 
 express precept. The duty of supporting one's own fa- 
 mily, for instance, is not more explicitly taught by that 
 passage of God's word which declares, that if any man 
 provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own 
 house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infi- 
 del,* than by our conjugal and paternal affections ; and, 
 by the condition of dependence upon their head, in which 
 most families are placed. That we ought not to be idle 
 also, but apply ourselves to some useful occupation, is a 
 duty as clearly enforced by the necessities of our situa- 
 tion, as by such declarations in the Bible as the following : 
 He that will not work neither shall he eat ; in the sweat 
 of thy face shalt thoii eat thy bread till thou return unto 
 the ground. 
 
 To which the greater weight ought to be given, those 
 inculcations of duty that we find in nature, or those we 
 find in revelation, it is not material for us to decide. A 
 
 * I Tim. V. 8. 
 
104 CUMULATION OF EVIDENCE. 
 
 single indubitable inculcation from either would be suffi- 
 cient, were it not for that perverseness of our natures, 
 which sets reason at defiance and tramples upon the re- 
 straints of law. As a compassionate father, therefore, 
 God pursues us with line upon line, precept upon precept, 
 here a little and there a little, repeating and re-repeating, 
 in revelation, what he had already rendered sufficiently 
 explicit in the volume of nature. 
 
 Thus, with reference to the duty of providing system- 
 atically to procure for others, without the prospect of an 
 equivalent, the same good with our money, of which we 
 ought to make it instrumental to ourselves and families ? 
 God has given us such a cumulation of evidence, as 
 would seem to render the misapprehension of it impos- 
 sible. 
 
 It is not among the least of these evidences, that so 
 much application to the useful callings, as is necessary to 
 the health and peace of the world, is usually rewarded hy 
 more of the good things of this life, than we need, to an- 
 swer all the consistent purposes of wealth upon ourselves 
 and those who have a natural claim upon us for sup- 
 port. 
 
 That it is most for the advantage of man to be engaged 
 in useful business the greater part of the time not occupi- 
 ed in taking necessary refreshment, is too well understood 
 to require explanation or argument. The development 
 of our powers, physical, intellectual, and moral ; the promo- 
 tion of our health, together with our security against temp- 
 tation, alike depend upon our being thus engaged. What a 
 race of imbeciles in body and mind should we soon become 
 
PRODUCTIVENESS OF INDUSTRY. 105 
 
 without industry ! How pregnant with mischief and 
 every evil work would our Hves be, if the present fruits 
 of industry flowed in upon us spontaneously, leaving us 
 the whole time to follow the bent of our inclinations ! 
 The earth could not contain a race like ours, existing un- 
 der such circumstances. Our lawless passions would not 
 require a deluge, nor showers of burning brimstone, nor 
 any extraneous aids to bring on our ruin ; but would 
 contain, in their own nature, the direful elements, by 
 which the earth would be swept with the besom of utter 
 desolation ! 
 
 When, therefore, industry is carried to its proper lim- 
 its, and man is active only to the extent that is most for 
 his advantage, in other respects, he usually obtains a 
 greater amount of the good things of this world, than he 
 needs for himself and dependents. This is true of the 
 aggregated mass of human society, whatever causes may 
 operate to produce want in particular cases. And there 
 has probably never been a time, (except in instances of 
 unusual visitation,) in which, if all human hands had been 
 judiciously distributed among the profitable occupations, 
 more would not have been realized than was necessary 
 for all the consistent purposes of human life. And we 
 may venture to predict that no such period will ever come ; 
 for God has promised that seed time and harvest shall 
 continue their propitious visitations to man, to the end of the 
 world, A competence is neither so easy of access as to 
 supersede labor, nor so difficult as to impose more, were 
 it judiciously distributed, than our health, virtue, and gen- 
 eral happiness require. And the present economy under 
 
106 VAST PROFUSION OF EXPENSE. 
 
 which we are placed, even as inhabitants of this world, is 
 as nicely adjusted to our character as sinners, and is as 
 distinctly marked by the wisdom and goodness of God, as 
 the Eden of man's primeval abode was, to his state of 
 rectitude. The husbandman, the merchant, the mechanic, 
 the professional man, and all whose capacities are judi- 
 ciously exerted, realize, in ordinary cases, more than they 
 need for all the proper ends of wealth upon themselves 
 and families. 
 
 This fact is fully attested by the immense sums which 
 they have found means of expending in every age, upon 
 objects ruinous to health, virtue, and the general good of 
 the species. The amount of wealth which has been was- 
 ted upon the monuments of human folly and wickedness, 
 lies not within the reach of our utmost calculations. Af- 
 ter we have subtracted, not only all that was necessary 
 to the subsistence of the species, but all that it has cost to 
 meet the demands of refinement, and to procure the means 
 of innocent luxury and embellishment, we shall probably 
 find the remainder of what has been possessed and expend- 
 ed by civilized man, greater than this amount. On this 
 subject we are not furnished with sufficient data to be 
 minute in our calculations. A superficial survey, how- 
 ever, of the millions sunk in the whirlpools of unjust war, 
 or consumed upon vicious indulgences, upon useless or 
 pernicious works of art, and upon other objects equally 
 destructive of the interests of mankind, will convince 
 every judicious mind, that as much or more wealth goes 
 to the injury, than to the advantage of the world. 
 Whether more or less, the amount expended in this way 
 
WEALTH OF EARTH AND OCEAN. lOt 
 
 is, according to the most moderate ©omputation, very 
 great. 
 
 Assuming such to be the fact, and the result is inevita- 
 ble, that men obtain more by their industry, than they 
 need to procure for themselves and families, as many of 
 the fruits of wealth as can be permanently for their ad* 
 vantage. Divine Providence has shown so great a care 
 for the preservation of the species, and such studious soli- 
 citude to have their physical wants amply supplied, that 
 earth, ocean, and all the elements teem with the means of 
 wealth, of life, and of happiness. The soil, over a vast 
 extent of the earth's surface, is gifted with unbounded 
 luxuriance, and opens to industry every possible encour* 
 agement. While less arable regions, that seem an un- 
 productive waste, often abound in sources of mineral 
 wealth, so ample as to render them still more productive 
 fields for the exertion of industry. Deep in the bowels 
 of the earth, perhaps under the rugged aspect of moun- 
 tain scenery, or far off upon the ocean-wave, God has hid 
 the rewards of human toil. And hence, the productive 
 powers of man, in the use and furtherance of these natu- 
 ral agents, are never exerted, when the results are not 
 greater than the wants of those engaged. 
 
 But it may be asked, why then has the world suffered 
 so much from poverty ? The reasons for this are to be 
 found from other sources, than any inherent deficiency in 
 the fruits of well-directed industry. That there are instan* 
 ces of such deficiency, we do not doubt ; but they are not so 
 frequent as to affect the general principle, that the results 
 of industry are superabundant. The immense amount of 
 
103 CAUSES OP POVERTY; 
 
 capital, which, under the present system of things, is con*! 
 signed to obhvion, or to what is worse, and the singular 
 fatality that this waste should always bear heaviest upon 
 the poorer classes, may serve in part to account for the 
 fact that such multitudes should, in every age, be sunk so 
 far below the means of competence. The indolence of 
 men, the misdirection of their efforts, that unequal distri- 
 bution of property which results from hereditary privi- 
 leges, or from the superior gifts and application of the 
 few over the many, together with other causes that might 
 be enumerated, will account for the prevalence of pover- 
 ty among the human family. 
 
 Some countries are so filled up with inhabitants as to 
 be incapable of giving them a competent support, and 
 hence, a part must suffer. The only cure for this evil is 
 to increase their commercial or mechanical resources, or 
 what would be better still, an emigration of a portion of 
 their inhabitants, to those immense and fertile portions of 
 the earth that are uncultivated. "The world yet has 
 room enough, and the cultivated land on the surface of 
 the globe is far inferior in extent to the fertile land remain- 
 ing untilled." There is no computing the number of in- 
 habitants that might find a competent support on the sur- 
 face of this earth, provided they were properly distributed 
 over it. It is not surprising, however, that when too 
 many crowd into a particular locality, some of them 
 should suffer from poverty. 
 
 But the evils arising from this source are small, com- 
 pared with those which result from bad governments, 
 where all legislation goes to favor the few, at the expense 
 
BAD GOVERNMENTS DRONES. 109 
 
 ©Fthe many. Millions are at this moment crushed under 
 the weight of institutions which sprang up in a barbarous 
 age, when the science of government was Httle understood, 
 and the rights of man stiJl less respected; but which time 
 and circumstances have so consolidated as to render enrian- 
 cipation difficult, if not impossible. " We know and think 
 too little," observes a late writer in the old world, "of the 
 feelings that are working in the bosoms of the abject and 
 wretched poor — if we knew and thought more on this sub- 
 ject, we should look with dread and wonder at the placid 
 surface which, in common, the social mass exhibits. The 
 personal endurance of famine, cold, and discomfort, from 
 day to day, and the worse anguish of seeing these evils 
 endured by children, breeds a feeling which, did it but 
 get vent, would heave the firmest political edifices from 
 their foundations : — but the writhings of tortured hearts 
 are repressed, diverted, and only on rare occasions burst 
 forth in tumultuous acts. With many, indeed, all senti- 
 ment and moral consciousness gives way under the pres- 
 sure of woe ; or is dissipated by debauchery : — the soul 
 sinks even below the wretchedness of the body — 'hope, the 
 spring of life, long ago took her flight, and is totally for- 
 gotten — every ember of joy and virtue is quenched." 
 
 In addition to the above causes of poverty, are those 
 which arise from the attempt of such numbers in every 
 age, to support themselves without being occupied at all ; 
 or, if at all, in a way that can be of no service to any one. 
 The more there are that contrive to get a subsistence 
 without leaving an equivalent in the hands of men, or do- 
 ing any thing to replace the value which they take from 
 10 
 
110 UNEQUAL DISTRIBUTION OF LABOR. 
 
 the aggregate means of human advantage, the poorer the 
 world will become. This will appear from principles 
 hereafter established, that capital consumed unproductive- 
 ly, cannot reappear ; and hence, must be a dead loss to 
 the world. Those who live thus, a^e leeches upon the 
 body politic, drawing blood which they cannot replace ; 
 they are drones in the hive of human society, whose death 
 would improve the condition of survivors, by lightening 
 them of an oppressive burden. As wealth consists in the 
 value that human industry, in aid and furtherance of natu- 
 ral agents, communicates to things, the man who does no- 
 thing to " communicate such value, must of course live 
 upon the unrequited fruits of other men's industry." * 
 
 Another consideration that deserves notice, is the un- 
 equal distribution of labor among those callings which are 
 useful. Too many devote themselves either to commer- 
 cial, to manufacturing, or to agricultural industry — or sci- 
 ence and the learned professions, but more generally the 
 profession of war, are pursued, to the neglect of those 
 callings which are directly concerned in taking advantage 
 of natural agents to communicate value to things ; and in 
 this way, all the machinery of life is fettered, and multi- 
 tudes suffer as a consequence. The human family, in re- 
 gard to the means of wealth, are like men embarked on 
 board of an open boat, over all the parts of which they 
 must be judiciously distributed, so as to keep the balance 
 good, or they will be in danger of sinking. God has so 
 connected the useful callings with each other, that one is 
 mutually dependent on another for its success. Of what 
 
 ♦ Say, p. 74. 
 
PRIMARY SOURCES OF WEALTH. Ill 
 
 avail would it be to embark in trade, if none were enga- 
 ged in producing the crude materials, or in rearing them 
 up into a condition for human use, those sources from 
 which trade derives all its commodities? Or, in what 
 way would posterity be qualified for these occupations, 
 unless others still were devoted to their intellectual and 
 moral cultivation ? Without virtue, where would be that 
 confidence between men, which is essential in all their 
 dealings? That labor, therefore, which is directed to the 
 tilling of the ground, or to the mechanic arts, or to trade, 
 or to the cultivation of mind and morals, or to any thing 
 else which is useful, puts a man in the way of obtaining 
 the advantages of wealth, in the most consistent manner 
 possible, by performing a service to others which is 
 equally, or much more valuable, than the object secured 
 to himself. These are the primary sources of wealth, 
 and the only ones from which it can be obtained without 
 pecuniary depreciation.* There is no danger of multi* 
 plying the evils of poverty by enlisting in avocations s,uch 
 as these, except it be by pursuing some of them at the ex- 
 pense of others. Hence, the existence or multiplication 
 of the evils of poverty, must, in ordinary cases, be ac- 
 counted for, otherwise than by ascribing it to an inherent 
 deficiency in the proceeds of virtuous and useful industry. 
 What is the obvious lesson which we are to gather from 
 this feature in our earthly condition ? Are we to under- 
 
 * " Objects cannot be created by human means; nor is the mass 
 of matter of which this globe consists, capable of increase or diminu- 
 tion. All that man can do, is to reproduce existing materials under 
 another form, which may give them a utility they did not before pos- 
 sess, or merely enlarge one they may have before presented. Pro- 
 4uction is the creation, not of matter, but of utility, — Say, p. 66. 
 
112 OBJECT OF OUR SUPERABUNDANCE. 
 
 stand that God intends this surplusage to be expended 
 upon intemi)erance and licentiousness? Is it provided 
 that we nnay hasten our exit from time by riot and 
 gluttony ? Or that we may enervate the powers and 
 corrupt the morals of our children by bringing them up 
 in idleness, or by furnishing them the means of gaming 
 and dissipation ? Is it provided to hire armies to ingulph 
 the world in war, to burn our cities, to devastate our 
 country, and to fill our atmosphere with the wailings of 
 sorrow ? Such alas, is the dismal use to which heaven's 
 superabundance has been often converted ! And hence, 
 it has proved like the plague that was visited upon a re- 
 bellious people, the means of converting a land which 
 was as the garden of Eden, into a desolate wilderness.* 
 And the observer, who, at one moment gazed with 
 transport upon a scene blooming with beauty and abun- 
 dance, under a smiling providence, has at the next beheld 
 with horror, 
 
 *' All the earth, before his eye 
 Drear and desolated lie; 
 Lances bristle, and in air 
 Iron harvests waving glare ; 
 Groans are uttered, garments torn, 
 Women o'er the slaughters mourn."t 
 
 Is such, O blood-thirsty man, the object of Heaven's 
 superabundance ? If so, it had been better, that he had 
 confined the products of thine industry within the bare 
 limits of thine indispensable necessities; that so, thou 
 
 * Joel 2, 3. 
 . i Lycophron, as translated in Elton's Extracts from Classic Poets. 
 
DESIGNED AS A PROVISION OF MERCY. 113 
 
 mightest have had neither strength, time, nor resources to 
 waste upon the work of mutual havoc ! 
 
 May we not rather conclude that God has provided for 
 this excess some place of deposit, where it may diminish 
 *he woes of life, and swell the tide of human happiness ? If 
 there were no sons of misfortune to claim at our hands the 
 means of physical support, yet the millions who need 
 books, teachers, and other means of moral and intellectual 
 cultivation, to elevate them in the scale of being, to 
 acquaint them with important truth, and to make known 
 to them the way of salvation, would open channels 
 through which our superabundance might flow, to bless 
 and beautify the soul and society of man. 
 
 " Not to the skies in useless columns tost, 
 Nor in proud falls magnificently lost, 
 But clear and artless, pouring thro' the plain 
 Health to the sick, and solace to the swain,"* 
 
 If every man were to husband his strength, his capital, 
 and all his means of wealth in the best possible manner ; 
 and if he actually had an overwhelming income, so far 
 from its being necessary for him to run into extravagances 
 in order to dispose of it, he might find, in furnishing all the 
 children of the earth with the means of mental and moral 
 cultivation, in multiplying Bibles and other books of 
 useful knowledge, to the full extent of the world's demand ; 
 and in other works of beneficence, an opening for his 
 superabundance, where it would tell gloriously upon the 
 cause of God and the interests of mankind. And whether 
 God intended it should be so used, or thrown away upon 
 
 *Pope. 
 10* 
 
114 WHAT IS BEST FOR CHILDREN. 
 
 our lusts, let reason, let mercy, yea, let conscience in 
 view of the judgment, decide ! 
 
 I am aware that the opinion more generally prevails, 
 that it is our duty to lay by every thing beyond a supply 
 for our immediate wants, as a legacy for our children. 
 To amass wealth for such an object is considered by 
 many, as among the first of parental duties. But, why 
 should this be necessary, when it will remain true of our 
 children, not less than of ourselves, that so much applica- 
 tion to business as their health and advantage require, will 
 give them the same superabundance, without our help, 
 that many of us have acquired without the help of our 
 parents ? A good education, with business habits, will 
 bring them a competence without our aid, and if they 
 have not these, the most ample legacy would fail of ma- 
 king them permanently rich. All that is left to children, 
 beyond perhaps a moderate provision for starting them in 
 business, serves probably in nine cases out of ten, to 
 enervate their powers, or to corrupt their morals. Shall 
 we, therefore, heap up the shining dust to debase, corrupt, 
 and brutalize our descendants? Shall we toil through 
 life, to supersede that economy of Heaven, which provides 
 in mercy, that man shall eat his bread with the sweat of 
 his face ? In what family or nation have not large ac- 
 cumulations proved ultimately a source of deterioration, 
 infamy and ruin ? When they reach the zenith of world- 
 ly prosperity, so that they feel at liberty to relax the 
 severity of their efforts, at that moment their decline begins. 
 
 This is true of the four great monarchies whose exis- 
 tence and overthrow occupy so large a space in the his- 
 
FALL OF THE FOUR GREAT MONARCHIES. 115 
 
 tory of past ages. The success of Ihe golden kingdom 
 of Babylon in subduing the neighboring nations, led on to 
 the indulgence of that ease and luxury which paved the 
 way for its own downfall, and for the elevation in its place 
 of a more rugged, because a less pampered power. The 
 same was acted over in its successor to the empire of the 
 world. An age or two of luxury was sufficient to fatten 
 Media and Persia into an easy prey for hardy Macedon. 
 Nor could Greece long withstand the wasting plagues of 
 power and prosperity, before it was crumbled down by 
 the iron-handed Roman. Again, Rome, by means of the 
 wealth that conquest poured into her lap, was pampered 
 into an easy prey for Alaric with his northern hordes. 
 
 Such has been the fate of man. Of all his enemies 
 none are more formidable than power, ease and af- 
 fluence. And what human Rature is in the aggregate of 
 a nation, or associated nations, it is in famihes and individ- 
 uals. Where is the family whom wealth has not ulti- 
 mately injured 1 In this country, where estates are not 
 secured by law to the same line of decendants, they are 
 perpetually changing hands. They rarely remain long 
 in the same families. ' The sons of the poor oftener, per- 
 haps, rise to extensive wealth, than those of the rich. 
 This is doubtless owing to their superior enterprise. Chil- 
 dren bred up in luxury and abundance, rarely acquire the 
 bravery and hardihood which are demanded for noble 
 deeds. Nothing but the spur of necessity — nothing but 
 the exciting influence of a powerful cause, can overcome 
 our natural love of inertion, and put the mind upon the 
 track of exalted achievements. 
 
116 CHILDREN TRAINED TO ACTION. , 
 
 With these facts in view, can any one suppose that 
 God has intended the superabundant resuUs of our indus- 
 try as a legacy for our children ? Can he regard it as his 
 duty to hoard up property for them, when all experience 
 teaches us that they are better without than with it ? 
 That parent performs the best service for his children, who 
 leaves with them such a knowledge of some useful call- 
 ing, and such habits of application, as will enable them to 
 bestow a positive benefit upon the world, that shall be 
 equal, or more than equal, to all that they need for their 
 own advantage. There are great and glorious plans of 
 improvement, in matter, in mind, and in morals, yet to be 
 accomplished. And every child should be qualified, not 
 merely to eat, drink, and enjoy himself, but to contribute his 
 share to the accomplishment of these plans. And if he 
 does this, the reward, of which he will not be likely to 
 fail, will be sufficient to cover all his wants. It is beneath 
 the dignity of a man, yea, it is contemptible, to live for 
 mere enjoyment in a world where so much requires to be 
 done. And the parent who labors to put his children in 
 a condition to live thus, is guilty of a high-handed crime 
 against their interest and the public weal. The plea, 
 therefore, that it is our duty to lay by something for our 
 children, if we give to this or that object we shall rob our 
 families, is oftener founded in covetousness, or in ignorance 
 of the great laws under which God has placed the gov- 
 ernment of the world, than in truth and necessity. There 
 may be some exceptions to these remarks, as when our 
 children are deprived by disease or otherwise, of their or- 
 dinary faculties. But even in cases like these, we shall 
 
RUINED BY PATRIMONIES. 117 
 
 suffer nothing by laying out ourselves for the service of 
 God in the use of our property. Not a few have been 
 able to say, from their own observation, " I have been 
 young, and now am old ; yet have I not seen the righteous 
 forsaken, nor his seed begging bread."* 
 
 Let the reader revert to the instances within his own 
 knowledge, in which children have been injured, if not 
 ruined, by estates which their parents acquired with great 
 care and labor. How frequently have we seen pride, ex- 
 travagance, dissipation, and even high-handed crime 
 resulting from this very source ! Have we not seen enough 
 to make us dread the influence upon our own families, of 
 hoarding up riches for their use ? Do they not threaten, 
 by absorbing our chiFdren in the cares of this world, to 
 drown them in destruction and perdition ? Who of us can 
 tell, but the little or the much we may leave behind us, will 
 involve our families in angry disputes, while our blood is 
 scarcely yet cold in our veins ? From every view, there- 
 fore, that may be taken of this subject, it must clearly ap- 
 pear, that the superabundance which results from our in- 
 dustry, is not intended to produce accumulations for pos- 
 terity. 
 
 For what then could it have been designed, but as a 
 means of doing good to the bodies and souls of men ? 
 Though it may do injury to our descendants, it can do 
 none, if we employ it in instructing the ignorant, in cir- 
 culating the Scriptures, in sending pious men to teach the 
 doctrines of the cross to the pagan world, in mitigating the 
 woes of the unfortunate, and in benefiting, by various 
 means, the men of our own generation. 
 ♦ Psalms xxxviij 25. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Examination of the question, whether unproductive consumption is 
 necessary to keep the market good. 
 
 It is supposed by many that the extravagances into 
 which such multitudes are betrayed in disposing of the pro. 
 ducts of industry, are necessary to its encouragement ; that 
 if all were to confine themselves to a moderate provision of 
 those wants which belong to a civilized and cultivated state, 
 the market would be glutted, and there would be an ab- 
 solute stagnation in the business- world. Their view of 
 the subject amounts to this, that since Heaven has made 
 the results of human labor superabundant, there is no 
 other way of disposing of them, so as to create a conti- 
 nued market to producers, but by indulging in the gran- 
 deur and sumptuousness of living, to which the passions 
 of most of those who have the means impel them. The 
 vast sums, they tell us, which the opulent expend upon 
 their persons, furniture, equipage, and style of living, give 
 business to a great number of laborers, who would other- 
 wise be unoccupied. These laborers, therefore, are enabled 
 to purchase the products of the soil, and thus to afford 
 encouragement to those who are engaged in cultivating 
 it J while the cultivator reciprocates the favor by patron- 
 
120 GOLDEN MEDIUM. 
 
 izing the mechanic, being able to procure naany conveni- 
 ences of which he must otherwise have been deprived ; 
 and hence, the extravagances of the opulent are supposed 
 to impart a healthy movement to the whole machinery of 
 human interests. 
 
 As this subject is vital to the temporal, moral, and 
 eternal well-being of millions, we deem it proper to give 
 it a passing attention, especially since, if the above rea- 
 soning be correct, a justification might be found for ex- 
 hausting the whole of heave's superabundance upon the 
 means of opulence and pleasure. We have already 
 stated, and perhaps it is unnecessary to repeat, that a mo- 
 derate provision for luxury and embellishment, a provision 
 extending far beyond the bare means of subsistence, is 
 necessary and proper. No one could desire to see socie- 
 ty reduced to the condition of the simple children of na- 
 ture, who sip their drink from the mountain brooks, who 
 tear their meat from the raw carcass of the transjEixed 
 deer, whose only shade at noon is the thick foliage of un- 
 bounded forest, and whose shelter from the storm is the 
 cave of the earth, or the crevice of towering rocks. Be- 
 tween this degraded condition, and the highest extremes 
 of opulence, there is a golden medium, which must be se- 
 cured in the use of our wealth, if we would obtain from 
 it the greatest good of which it is capable. 
 
 We may lay it down as a principle to guide us in the 
 pursuit of this happy medium, that all consumption of va- 
 lues which has no reference, neither to their reproduction 
 nor to the supply of urgent want, is a dead loss to the 
 worlds 
 
fiVlLS Of" SUMPTirOirSNESS. 121 
 
 Yea, the vice, disease, and other malignant conse- 
 quences which result from such consumption, render it 
 tenfold worse than the simple annihilation of value. To 
 want the means of gluttony and intemperance, is no evil 
 at all, compared with all the direful plagues with which 
 these vices are visited upon the body and the soul. 
 
 "O'er the dread feast malignant Chemia scowls, 
 And mingles poison with ihe nectar'd bowls; 
 Ffcll Gout I eeps grinning through the flimsy scene, 
 And bloated Dropsy pants behind unseen ; 
 "VVrapt in his robes white Lepra hides his stains, 
 And silent Frenzy, writhing, bites his chains."* 
 
 When consumption, however, is restricted within the 
 bounds of temperance and propriety, is directed to the 
 supply of urgent want, or to the reproduction of value, 
 so far from being lost, it accomplishes the purpose for 
 which all wealth is designed. The grain which is used 
 for seed, though it rots in the ground, is not lost, because 
 it supplies the germ of the future harvest. The same may 
 be said of all consumption, when it has for its object the 
 reproduction of value.f 
 
 Or, if its object be to prolong the life of a cripple, 
 or to supply the personal wants of a lunatic, still it is not 
 lost, although it is connected with no reproduction, because 
 the human preservation which it effects, is an ample equi- 
 valent for the value expended. 
 
 " But what is there to compensate the mischief where 
 consumption has not for its object the satisfaction of such 
 wants? — where money is spent for the mere sake of 
 spending, and the value destroyed without any object be. 
 yond its destruction ?" Or what shall we say of those 
 
 * Darwin. t Say, p. 410. 
 
 11 
 
1225 ALL Wealth made rsEPtt. 
 
 consumptions that are made upon objects, which, if rata-? 
 able in any degree, are not so in a degree proportioned to 
 the Values expended upon them ? To take a strong case, 
 suppose a nobleman expend fifty thousand pounds upon 
 jewelry to adorn his own person and that of his lady— ^ 
 now, if the gratification of pride or other passions to which 
 he ministers, be a value, still, is it a value proportioned 
 to the amount expended upon it ? Just so far as it is not, 
 the consumption is unproductive. If that gratification, to 
 persons in their situation, would be worth one thousand 
 pounds, and no more, then, in paying fifty thousand for it, 
 they consume forty-nine thousand pounds unproductively. 
 'I'his may be taken as a criterion of all minor cases. 
 When the value received is inferior to the value expend- 
 ed, the loss is, of course, equal to that inferiority. 
 
 Now, the question is, whether such consumptions are 
 necessary to keep the market good ; or whether in the 
 end, they have any beneficial influence upon the market 
 Whatever 1 The question really amounts to this : whe* 
 ther it is necessary to Waste a portion of the precious 
 gifts of heaven, in order to encourage the industry by 
 which those gifts are procured 1 
 
 And the answer turns upon the decision of another 
 question : whether there are not ways of converting all 
 that men can possibly obtain by their industry, into chan- 
 nels of usefulness ? If all the wealth which they are ca- 
 pable of obtaining, by the utmost exertion of their facul- 
 ties, can be thus employed, then the double object may be 
 secured, of consuming it all productively, and of affording 
 every necessary encouragement to industry at the sanr>€f 
 
ACfQTJISITIONS IN SCIENCE — NEWTON, 123 
 
 ilme. And so, unproductive consumption would not be 
 necessary to create a market. 
 
 On this point there can be no doubt. If man were 
 only a physical being, and incapable of any other good 
 than what he enjoys in common with the beasts that per- 
 ish, then we grant, that unproductive consumption might 
 be necessary to keep the market good. But, as intellec- 
 tual and moral advantages possess a value to him far 
 above those which belong to his animal nature, and a« 
 his surplus treasures may be employed in securing to him- 
 self and others those advantages, he can be under no neces- 
 sity of wasting them, to secure the business world against 
 the evils of plethory and stagnation. Nothing is more 
 conducive to the interests of human life, than that the 
 means of intellectual and moral cultivation be abundant, 
 and that as large a share of the industry of man be directed 
 to this point as possible. 
 
 What vast acquisitions in science have been made by 
 means of those provisions of temporal support, which, 
 tinder the institutions of the old world, have been supplied 
 to the more gifted minds ! The wealth expended in this 
 way, so far from being unproductive, has brought a thou- 
 sand fold- Who can compute the gain to human nature 
 of those discoveries, which Newton's opportunities of lei- 
 sure from physical labor, enabled him to make ? They 
 have given a new impulse to mind itself, while at the same 
 time, they have spread out through all the departments of 
 industry, new facilities even for the acquisition of wealth. 
 The same results also have followed from the chemical 
 discoveries of Sir Humphrey Davy, and from the learned 
 
124 ALLEVIAIION OF WO ^aWAR^^, 
 
 labors of many others. Now, no such discoveries could 
 be made among a people, if they inhabited a region so 
 sterile as to require all their labor in procuring the bare 
 means of a physical subsistence, or if they should waste 
 the surplus stores of a productive land, upon useless or 
 pernicious modes of expenditure. And if the wealth 
 which has actually been consumed upon intellectual labor, 
 has been followed with a certain amount of good, on the 
 same principle, the consumption of more in this way, 
 would be followed by still more good. No limit can be 
 assigned to intellectual achievement. The fields of know- 
 ledge are ample, and mind is gifted with amazing powers 
 of growth and extension. Hence, it can never be neces- 
 sary that property should be wasted in order to create a 
 market. 
 
 And were there any danger on this point, it would be 
 obviated by the many ways in which wealth may be made 
 conducive to the alleviation of human wo, and to moral 
 improvement. Who can compute the increase of virtue 
 and happiness which has resulted from the labor and 
 wealth which Howard expended upon the miserable 
 tenants of the dungeon and the hospital ? *' His plan," 
 observes Burke in his eulogium, " was original ; and it is 
 as full of genius as humanity. It was a voyage of disco- 
 very ; a circumnavigation of charity. Already the bene- 
 fit of his labor is felt, more or less, in every country. I 
 hope he will anticipate his final reward, by seeing its effects 
 fully realized in his own. He will receive, not by retail, 
 but in gross, the reward of those who visit the prisoner, 
 and he has so forestalled and monopolized this branch of 
 
MARKET RUINED BY WASTE. 125 
 
 cliarity, that there will bo, I trust, little room to merit by- 
 such acts of benevolence hereafter." Who will pretend 
 that the wealth consumed by Howard upon this godlike 
 work was unproductive ? The comfort, instruction, and 
 sympathy, which he poured in upon the most dismal 
 abodes of human life — abodes from which mercy had be- 
 fore been debarred, were a value which money cannot 
 compute. Had business men the spirit of Howard — did 
 they look abroad upon the ten thousand opportunities of 
 mitigating the sufferings, of dissipating the ignorance, and 
 of correcting the waywardness, of fallen human nature, 
 they would no longer be at a loss for the means of creating 
 a market to producers. They would be in no further 
 danger of falling into the monstrous error of supposing, 
 that products must be wasted, or what is little better, must 
 be expended upon extravagances^ in order to afford pro- 
 per encouragement to industry. 
 
 Having thus shown that there are ways enough of 
 employing the products of industry, so as to keep up a 
 healthy circulation in the business world, without expend, 
 ing them unproductively, we come now to show that 
 such expenditure has a tendency to depress^ and in the end, 
 to ruin the market. If the whole value in the hands of 
 men be regarded in the aggregate, as a great fountain 
 from which all are to take their appropriate share of 
 good, and one portion of them who have the power draw 
 off a third or half of this amount and throw it away, who 
 cannot perceive that the loss to the whole is equal to that 
 waste ? It matters not that those who effect this waste 
 pay for it, — this cannot make up for the waste itself. As 
 XI* 
 
126 COMPLEXITY OF THE SUBJECT. 
 
 well may we take water from one of the pipes of a fouir- 
 tain, to make up for the loss which another pipe of the 
 same fountain sustains. For the money or value which 
 these men pay for what they waste, from this aggregate 
 amount of the means of good, is a part of that amount 
 itself, as much as what they wasted was a part of that 
 amount. Hence, it cannot make up for the diminution ; 
 and so every unproductive consumption is a dead loss to 
 the world. 
 
 But the reason why it is not felt to be such, when it is 
 effected by the consumer, and not by the producer, is 
 owing to the com.plexity of the subject, and the short- 
 sightedness of men. The producer gets his pay, and a 
 more ready market is perhaps opened for his future pro- 
 ducts ; and thus he is deluded into the belief that all is 
 going on well. Whereas, those who have effected such 
 consumption, will either deprive themselves of the ability 
 to purchase his future products, or if they contrive to re- 
 tain that abihty, it must be by robbing society at some 
 other point. And thus, in one way or another every use- 
 less consumption of wealth, will bear heavily upon the 
 interests of human life. If the chain is broken, it matters 
 not whether it be in the first or ten thousandth link. 
 
 To illustrate this subject, suppose every wheat-grow- 
 er, immediately upon harvesting his crop, should consume 
 in the fire three-quarters of it, how would all exclaim 
 against such a wanton waste of the means of subsistence ! 
 But if these wheat-growers should sell their wheat to capi- 
 tahsts, for its full value in cash, and they should consume 
 three-fourths of it in the fire, the growers of it would per- 
 
FOOLISH REASONING — WHEAT-GROWERS. 127 
 
 haps congratulate themselves upon th. ' ^x-J ibrl^ne. 
 But how fallacious would be their reasonings nd Uieir 
 hopes ! Would not the number of families deprived of 
 wheat be as great, as if it were burnt by their own hands ? 
 And this deprivation is effected in a way, too, that must 
 in the end, injure the market for wheat. For these capi- 
 talists, in addition to directly withdrawing from multitudes 
 the means of comfort and subsistence, have deprived them 
 of all the business that would have resulted from a pro- 
 ductive investment of the capital thrown away. Hence, 
 while on the one hand, the destruction of the wheat has 
 raised its price above the ability of many to purchase, the 
 waste of capital has, on the other, deprived many of their 
 only opportunity to earn the means of purchasing it. 
 Thus, the evil operates both ways. 
 
 And besides all this, these same men who have thus 
 suffered, must be made, by some refined system of rob- 
 bery, to supply the means of repeating a similar destruc- 
 tion of wheat, on succeeding years, or these capitalists 
 would not be able to pay its price. For, when capital is 
 annihilated at one point, its place cannot be supplied with- 
 out withdrawing it from other points, or advancing upon 
 the value of what remains. A fountain would soon be 
 exhausted, unless the stream flowing in were equal to the 
 one flowing out. If, for instance, a certain number of 
 capitalists should waste upon the destruction of wheat, in 
 the manner we have supposed, five million dollars, they 
 must either suffer loss to that full amount, and in this way 
 soon deprive themselves of the ability to make market for 
 wheat ; or else they must contrive, by advancing on other 
 
128 REFINED SYSTEM OF ROBBERY. 
 
 investments, to cover the loss. If merchants, they must 
 advance on the price of goods — if landlords, on the 
 price of rents — or if their estates are in funds, they must 
 advance on the price of loans. But from whom is this 
 advanced price to come, but from the people at large ? 
 They are the purchasers of their merchandise ; they pay 
 the original profits on rents and loans ; and they pay the 
 advance to cover the supposed loss. The draught touches 
 every man's purse, over the whole extent of country to 
 which this capital or these business transactions reach. 
 Hence, the same persons, who suffered from the increased 
 price of wheat, and from the loss of business, are the 
 ones to supply the money, to repeat the work of destruc- 
 tion, or it could not be carried on ! Now, who does not see 
 that a process like this must derange all the interests of 
 human society, and in the end, ruin the market, which, at 
 a first view, it might be supposed to improve? And yet, 
 much of what is considered necessary to keep the wheels 
 of business in motion, is based in precisely the same prin- 
 ciples with the above process. 
 
 Let us suppose that these five millions of capital, in- 
 stead of being destroyed outright, had been expended upon 
 costly diamonds, to adorn the persons of its owners ; or 
 upon any thing else of no greater importance to the hap- 
 piness of human life. How much more would be gained 
 by such a use of it, than by burning it up? The labor of 
 miners, of merchants, of jewellers, and artists in furnish, 
 ing and preparing the diamonds, would answer perhaps to 
 be set off against the labor of the wheat growers, only the 
 greater number would probably find employ in the latter, 
 
POVERTY MADE POORER. 129 
 
 than the former business. All that diamonds upon the 
 person can accomplish, over burning grain, is to gratify 
 a useless and absurd fondness for show. And we might 
 include in this remark, every thing beyond a moderate 
 provision for the wants which belong to a civilized and 
 cultivated state. The means of procuring such extrava- 
 gances come from the same source as in the supposed 
 case — the people at large. They suffer for want of the 
 business that the capital thus expended might furnish, and 
 they pay the advanced price on merchandise, rents, or 
 loans, by which those who are guilty of this waste con- 
 trive to make up the deficiency. 
 
 Thus, poverty is reduced to a condition of still great- 
 er destitution^ whll© the nV.h gain in reality little more 
 than by an absolute destruction of values. To enable a 
 few men to waste upon their furniture, equipage, persons, 
 and upon sumptuous living, five millions of capital, thou- 
 sands must be deprived of business, or compelled to pay 
 such an advance of rent, interest, taxes, or profits on 
 merchandise, as would disqualify them to furnish their ta- 
 bles with wheat and many other means of comfort, and so 
 there would not be one purchaser of these articles per- 
 haps, where there would be ten, if this capital were turn- 
 ed into productive channels. " It is vain," observes an 
 able writer, " to resist the nature of things. Magnifi- 
 cence may do what it will to keep poverty out of sight, 
 yet it will cross it at every turn, still haunting, as if to re- 
 proach it for its excesses. This contrast was to be met 
 with at Versailles, at Rome, at Madrid, and at every seat 
 of royal residence." Yea, the universal state of things 
 
130 APPEARANCES DECEITFUL. 
 
 under the monarchies of the old world, where the struc 
 ture of society is such as to favor the few at the expense 
 of the many, adds complete demonstration to the princi- 
 ple, that unproductive consumption is a dead loss, and 
 must bear heavily, if not immediately upon those who are 
 guilty of it, upon the mass of society, who are always 
 least able to sustain the burden. By disqualifying 
 them to purchase many means of comfort and improve- 
 ment, which would otherwise lie within their reach, and 
 by thus sinking them lower in the scale of virtue, of 
 knowledge, and enjoyment, it injures the market, it multi- 
 plies the number of paupers, mendicants, and criminals, 
 and so weighs heavily upon the aggregate of human in- 
 terests. 
 
 " Those who are little in the habit of looking through 
 the appearance to the reality of things, are apt to be se^ 
 duced by the glitter and bustle of ostentatious luxury. 
 They take the display of consumption as conclusive evi- 
 dence of national prosperity. If they could open their 
 eyes they would see, that a nation verging towards de» 
 cline will, for some time, continue to preserve a show of 
 opulence, like the establishment of the spend-thrift on the 
 high road to ruin. But this false glare cannot last long ; 
 the effort dries up the sources of reproduction, and, there- 
 fore, must infallibly be followed by a state of apathy and 
 exhaustion of the political frame, which is only to be re- 
 medied by slow degrees, and by the adoption of a regi- 
 men the very reverse of that by which it has thus been 
 reduced. The number who have sufficient spirit and in- 
 dependence of fortune to submit to such a regimen, is ex- 
 
(iOOD fOLICY IS THE LAW OF THE CHl/RCH. ISI 
 
 tremely small. Most men yield to the torrent, and rush 
 upon ruin with their eyes open, in search of happiness i 
 although it requires a very little share of philosophy to 
 perceive, that, when once the common wants of our na« 
 ture are satisfied, happiness is to be foUnd^ not in the fri- 
 volous enjoyments of luxurious vanity, but in the mode- 
 rate exercise of our physical and moral faculties."* 
 Now, these principles of action, which can be shown to 
 be a matter of policy to any people, have the force of 
 law upon the Christian church. She is required by the 
 articles of her constitution, to use the world as not abus^ 
 ing it, and to take the lead in those plans for appropria- 
 ting earthly treasure which have a tendency to produce 
 the fewest evils, and the greatest possible amount of en- 
 joyment. To allow herself to be drawn away by custom^ 
 to such a disposal of it as must infalhbly leave a large 
 portion of the human family without the means of supply.* 
 ing their wants, or even of providing themselves with that 
 moral and intellectual cultivation in which the true digni^ 
 ty of our nature consists, is to compromise principles which 
 are at the basis of her constitution, and which she is so^ 
 lemnly bound to preserve inviolable. 
 
 The superficial view which we have taken of thi^ 
 subject, is sufficient, we think, to show the fallacy of sup- 
 posing that men must run into extravagances, in order to 
 create a market for the products of industry. The capi- 
 tal expended in this way, if it were productively invested, 
 would give to thousands a business from which they might 
 
 ♦ Say, p. 413* 
 
 W^ 
 
1§^ 
 
 acquire the means of being purchasers, and so a market 
 would be created on principles that would swell the tide 
 of human enjoyment. And thus, it would leave in the 
 hands of each still more to bestow upon the general im- 
 provement of man in mind and morals. The capital now 
 lying dead about the persons of the opulent, or wasted 
 upon high living, or otherwise abstracted from human use, 
 if put into circulation, would vastly increase the means of 
 production, and in this way would raise the mass of soci- 
 ety to higher degrees of enjoyment, would furnish a 
 much greater amount of leisure for the cultivation of 
 those qualities in which the true dignity of man consists, 
 and thus would open to millions, now overborne by the 
 pressure of their physical condition, the high road to use- 
 ful and exalted achievement. Who can compute the 
 amount of capital which men contrive in various ways to 
 take out of the market ? 
 
 In the constitution of the world, God has exercised a 
 peculiar jealousy over the interests of mind and morals. 
 Did we duly improve the physical advantages which he 
 has put within our reach, more than one half of the aggre- 
 gate capacity for industry and application at our com- 
 mand, might be devoted to those interests. A large 
 proportion of the human family might give up their whole 
 attention to the cultivation of the rest, or to extending the 
 precints of knowledge and virtue, while the others, in ad- 
 dition to furnishing the first with the means of physical 
 support, might have ample leisure to raise themselves to 
 an enviable distinction in knowledge and goodness. 
 Every provision might be made to mitigate the unavoida- 
 
MILLENltM KEPT BACK. 133 
 
 ble evils of our condition, and thus truth, virtue, intelli* 
 gence, and happiness, might become universally ascendant 
 on earth. And hence, we see among the physical 
 elements of this world, the possibility of such a milienium 
 of rest and glory, as in the visions of prophecy is unfolded 
 to the hopes of man. No single thing perhaps does more 
 to keep back this age of unmixed light, prosperity, and 
 virtue, than the passions, habitS;, and sentiments that take 
 their rise from the possessions of this world. Reason on 
 this point is obscured or not obeyed, and consequently 
 
 -^ .— .^ — . ' Inordinate desires 
 
 And upstart passions catch the government 
 From reason, and to servitude reduce 
 Man, till then free^'* 
 
 The leisure which the extreme productiveness of Indus-- 
 try affords, is converted into pastime and folly, or what is 
 worse, into an occasion for working all kinds of wicked* 
 ness. The surplus stores of a bountiful Providence, it is 
 thought necessary, even by good men, to employ upon 
 costly equipage and sumptuous living ; and thus, the culti^ 
 vations of mind, the improvements in morals, and the 
 alleviations of suffering to which they might minister are 
 not secured, but in the place of them, there exist among 
 one class, the vices and miseries of overloaded abundance, 
 and among another, the crimes and complicated evils 
 which result from ignorance, corrupt example, and abject 
 destitution. 
 
 * Milton. 
 12 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Alarming consequences of having a passion for wealth become 
 predominant— Necessity of that restraint upon this passion which 
 arises from the habitual bestowment of charitable gratuities.— Life 
 and death of Mr. James Harding, of . 
 
 'I give and I devise,' old Euclio said, 
 
 And sigh'd, ' my lands and tenements to Ned,' 
 
 * Your money. Sir 7'—' My money, Sir, what all "?,, 
 
 Why,— if I must'— then wept, ' I give it Paul.' 
 
 ' The manor, Sir 7' ' The manor ! hold,' he cried, 
 
 ' Not that,— I cannot part with that,'— and died. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 The principles of our own nature impelling us to the 
 practice of beneficence, which we have already noticed, 
 are no more cogent in their enforcement of that duty, 
 than the consequences upon ourselves of not allowing them 
 suitable play. We never restrain our humane sympa- 
 thies, from a dread of the expense of indulging them, 
 when our enjoyment from the objects of this world does 
 not suffer in the same proportion. God has placed in 
 our bosom a law, which suspends the measure of our en- 
 joyment from those objects, upon the degree of interest 
 we feel to have others share with us, insomuch that when 
 that interest is annihilated, our worldly possessions lose 
 the power of doing us any good ; and we become sordid 
 vipers crawling in the dirt, and hissing at all we meet. 
 
136 LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDING. 
 
 Did those who are engaged in the eager pursuit of gain 
 understand their own natures, could they see the effect 
 upon their moral habits of having their eye exclusively 
 fixed upon their object, and of nourishing the selfish 
 emotions to the exclusion of those which impel them to 
 take an interest in the happiness of others, they would feel 
 a horror at their situation, scarcely less, than as if they 
 stood with a blazing torch in the midst of a magazine of 
 powder. The love of money, when it has reached a 
 certain pitch, leaves the character a total wreck, and be- • 
 comes to itself a source of fearful retribution. The penal 
 inflictions which follow from violating the law of bene- 
 ficence in our own constitution, eU'c more to be dreaded 
 than all that group of haggard evils which follow in the 
 train of abject destitution. The fate of the poor man, 
 who retains the social sympathies is enviable, compared 
 with that of the rich miser. 
 
 The admonitions to the duty in question which arise 
 from this quarter, cannot be better exhibited, perhaps, than 
 by presenting a short sketch of the life and death of a 
 man by the name of James Harding, who had been 
 
 many years a merchant in the city of , but who 
 
 spent a few of the last years of his life on a retired farm 
 
 near the village of . He was a man in single 
 
 life, having refrained from marriage to avoid the expense 
 of supporting a family. Being of an enterprising turn, 
 he had declined in his youth the proffered assistance of his 
 friends to start him in business, preferring to lay the 
 foundation of his own fortune, and had embarked in com- 
 
LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDING. i37 
 
 mercial speculations, in which he was soon crowned with 
 unexampled success. To save money he lived by him- 
 self, having a single domestic to attend to his few and 
 simple wants ; and in this situation, he had passed more 
 than forty years of his truly self-denying life. He allowed 
 himself no more intercourse with men than his money- 
 making schemes rendered necessary ; and even this little 
 was like the contact of flint with steel, throwing out in 
 every direction the sparks of angry passions. His 
 hatred of men was owing in part to the heavy losses which 
 he had experienced by their treachery, a subject to which 
 he could never allude without betraying a wildness of 
 manner, which but too clearly indicated the shattered 
 state of his mind. He would approach this part of his 
 history, much as we should suppose a man would the 
 edge of a precipice, from which his wife and children had 
 been plunged into the arms of death below. These losses, 
 together with his natural propensity for hoarding, had 
 perhaps about equally divided between them the influence 
 under which his character had been moulded into the 
 incurable habits of a miser. 
 
 From having long restricted himself within the limits 
 of personal comfort, to repair his losses and accumulate 
 wealth, he continued to do so after his income was a 
 hundred times greater than his expenditures. Indeed, he 
 had come to be one of that class whose desire of gold is 
 entirely independent of the comforts, honors, pleasures, 
 or other advantages which it may procure : for as to com- 
 forts, he allowed himself none ; as to honor, he cared not a 
 
 *13 
 
138 LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HAI^DING. 
 
 farthing what the world thought of him ; and of pleasure 
 he was the mortal enemy. His character afforded de- 
 monstration to the doctrine, that a love of hoarding is a 
 primary element of our nature ; for it was only on this 
 principle that such a mysterious anomaly of human ex- 
 istence could be explained. 
 
 What rendered him still more mysterious was, that he 
 should have been from early life a member of the church, 
 a firm believer of evangelical doctrines, and fond of 
 reading prolix works of divinity, especially if well spiced 
 with those ultra views which lie in the neighborhood of 
 antinomianism. No man advocated the necessity of the 
 Spirit's influences in regeneration more strongly than he, 
 said more in favor of experimental religion, or even de- 
 vised more plans of doing good. He had been calculating 
 many years to support a minister from his own resources, 
 (for it had pleased God he said to give him enough,) and 
 was only prevented by his inability to find one in his 
 estimation deserving of a support. It was easy to per- 
 ceive, however, that these remaining elements of religion 
 were the result of a disturbed conscience, the fear of 
 death, or rather the apprehension of being torn from his 
 immense treasures. He was one of those who think, 
 
 ' When queasy conscience has it qualms, 
 To lull the painful malady with alms.'* 
 
 These circumstances kept alive the dying embers of 
 religion so far as to make him miserable, and lead him to, 
 
 '^ Cowper. 
 
LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDING. 139 
 
 form resolution after resolution of devoting a portion of 
 his money to the cause of God. 
 
 But his benevolence evaporated in mere resolutions ; 
 for, when the crisis for acting came, his money was always 
 wanting. Indeed, it was impossible to approach him or 
 treat him with ordinary civility, without awakening his 
 suspicion that you had some design upon his purse ; and 
 the agents of charitable institutions were objects of his 
 implacable disgust. 
 
 A little incident occurred soon after he went upon his 
 farm, that may serve to illustrate the peculiar feehngs of 
 the man. The Christian friends in the neighborhood, not 
 fully understanding his character, took the liberty, in one 
 of those interviews which were common among them, to 
 invite Mr. Harding. And as he had long been in the fruit- 
 less search of what he called congenial spirits, and think- 
 ing that he might, perhaps, find them among his new 
 neighbors, he so far departed from his usual course as 
 comply with the invitation. They were accustomed in 
 these interviews to appoint a chairman, and proceed re- 
 gularly to the discussion of some doctrine or duty for 
 their mutual instruction. It so happened on this occasion, 
 that the subject under discussion was the duty of Christians 
 in regard to the use of money. Mr, Harding had not long 
 listened to the discussion, before he became suspicious 
 that it was all a contrived plan to extort from him his mo- 
 ney ; when, his feelings taking fire, he sprang upon his 
 feet, poised one elbow upon a piece of furniture, and with 
 B. demeanor peculiar to himself, which cannot be better 
 
140 LIFE AND DEATH OF ME. HARDING. 
 
 described than by comparing it to the motions of a beast 
 of prey about to pounce upon its victim, he began with 
 one or two abortiveattempts at articulation. *Y-a — y-a — 
 yes, I see who I am with — priestridden, deluded men ; I 
 see vvhat you want. Like children, you put your hands 
 over your eyes, and then think nobody can see you ; you 
 did'nt know that I could see you through and through, 
 did ye ? You have contrived a fine plan to get my mo- 
 ney — ah ! But I can assure you, you will leave off where 
 you begun.' 
 
 This unmanly insinuation, the chairman of the meet- 
 ing, who was chiefly concerned in inviting him, would 
 have resented, but for his fear of interrupting the course 
 of the discussion. He, therefore, simply said, that he 
 knew himself to be the only one on whom such a suspi- 
 cion could fall, as he had invited the attendance of Mr. 
 Harding, and he hoped, therefore, the rest of the gentle- 
 men would feel themselves exonerated from it. * And as 
 to myself,' he added, * confident that my friends present 
 and the world know me to be incapable of so mean an 
 action, I shall say no more.' 
 
 But Mr. Harding having poured off the first efTerves- 
 cence of his feelings, began to talk rather more coolly. * I 
 do not believe,' said he, ' that it is any way to lay out mo- 
 ney on these man-made ministers. But give me such 
 ministers as they had in old times, holy men of God that did 
 not preach for money, but as they were moved by the 
 Holy Ghost, and I'd give all I'm worth but that they 
 should be supported. I have always been seeking to lay 
 
LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDING. 141 
 
 out my money for religion, but could never find any to 
 ky it out for. Your societies that make so much noise 
 in the world are mere catch-penny schemes, to give sup- 
 port to a set of lazy, worthless fellows; and I would ra- 
 ther have my money in the bottom of the ocean than in 
 tlieir hands. As for myself, I think the heathen better off 
 as they are, than with missionaries, unless they are better 
 than any I know. That I have not given my money to 
 God is the fault of others, not my own, for if they had 
 done as they ought, they might have had it.' 
 
 It was by such pleas that he always managed to justi- 
 fy to his own conscience and to others his total disregard 
 of the claims of God and humanity, in the use of his im. 
 mense resources. Having thus seen what were the ha* 
 bits and feelings of Mr. Harding in the course of life, it may 
 be profitable to trace him through its closing scene. 
 
 The proverb, that there is a way that seemeth right 
 unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death, 
 finds confirmation in the history of every human being. 
 Much of what blooms with promise is fruitful only in dis- 
 appointment and despair. Did we penetrate beyond the 
 external gloss to the inherent nature and tendency of things 
 — did we look at the objects now most fondly cherished 
 in their connection with death, and trace out the influence 
 which they will exert upon our manner of leaving the world, 
 and our prospects for eternity, how should we mourn where 
 we now rejoice, and rejoice where we now mourn ! Death, 
 the great teacher, will sum up the argument of life, and, 
 deducing from its passions, motives, habits, sentiments, 
 
142 LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDING. 
 
 and pursuits, their true moral, will imprint it upon our 
 memories in characters which eternity cannot efface. It 
 is here, amid the truth-speaking struggles of the closing 
 scene, that the ambitious, the proud, the vain, the world* 
 ly, the avaricious, and all who sport in prosperity's beam, 
 will lay aside the glossy attire of fiction, and assume the 
 unsophisticated aspects of reality. Every thing will be 
 reduced to its proper dimensions, antecedents will appear 
 in connection with their own proper consequents, and the 
 diverging elements of character will be brought to a point 
 that may enable us to detect their inherent tendencies. 
 Hence, by looking at the different characters with which 
 we meet, as they appear under dying circumstances, we 
 may acquire most valuable instruction. 
 
 Mr. Harding, we have remarked already, had spent his 
 life in the self-denying and laborious pursuit of money, 
 having never relaxed till forced by the iron hand of ne- 
 cessity. Though strictly honest, in the common accep- 
 tation, there was no meanness, and no rigor of exaction 
 upon those in his power, to which he would not descend, 
 in slaking his groveling propensities. What he got he 
 never allowed to escape him. No man ever more rigor- 
 ously acted on the saying of Shylock, in the Merchant of 
 Venice : 
 
 Shut doors after you — Fast bind, fast find ; 
 A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.' 
 
 When his health became so impaired as to render further 
 attention to business impossible, he brought his affairs in 
 the city of -^ — to a close, and retired to a small farm 
 
LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDINGf. 14^ 
 
 in the neighborhood of which we have spoken. The idea 
 of a rural retreat had long flourished in his imagination) 
 as furnishing a pleasant contrast to the toils of business, 
 and the hated tiirongs which surrounded him ; being also 
 consecrated by the endeared recollections of his childhood. 
 Indeed, he was one of that class who have the folly to 
 think, that a return to the condition they were in, in the 
 days of comparative innocence, will restore the joy of 
 those days. 
 
 'The statesman, lawyer, ttiefchant, man of trade, 
 Pants for the refuge of the rural shade, 
 Where all his long anxieties forgot, 
 Amid the charms of a sequester'd spot, 
 Or recollected only to gild o'er. 
 And add a smile to what was sweet before ; 
 He^may possess the joys he thinks he sees, 
 Lay his old age upon the lap of ease, 
 Improve the remnant of his wasted span, 
 And having lived a trifler, die a man. ' 
 
 But, alas! retirement cannot hide a man from himself, 
 I'epay his long arrears of guilt, nor recover him from the 
 slavery of those passions and habits, to which he ha^ 
 through hfe yielded himself a willing victim. On this 
 fact the retreat of poor Mr. H. furnished a melancholy 
 comment. He was still himself, the same eager, grasp- 
 ing, pining man of gold. His riches were corrupted, and 
 his garments were moth-eaten ; his gold and silver were 
 cankered, and the rust of them was a witness against him, 
 consuming him as it were fire. 
 
 He was determined to his present residence, partly by 
 its retired situation, being a little farm surrounded by 
 hills a few miles from the village of—— — ; partly by" 
 
144 jli?e and death of mr. hardincj. 
 
 its proximity to the city in which he had invested most of 
 his great estate ; but more still by the fact that he held' 
 a mortgage against the former owner for money loaned, 
 which enabled him to obtain it a great bargain. The 
 house itself was in the fashion of a hundred years ago, 
 having that exuberance of timber which resulted from its 
 abundance at the time it was built, and was every way 
 fitted to resist the shock of passing years. The rooms 
 were spacious, and derived from the projection of huge 
 beams and posts several inches beyond the plastering, as 
 also from the massy rocks in the base of the chimney and 
 sides of the fire-places, a peculiarly rude and romantic 
 appearance. An imagination accustomed to harbor the 
 idea of ghosts, would have found ample scope for its fears 
 in one of these sepulchral haunts of living men, especially 
 'ds the neighborhood was full of legendary tales of children 
 dashed against the walls by troops of prowling savages in 
 the time of the colonies, the stain of whose blood is said to 
 be still visible, — of mothers scalped and thrown upon the 
 fire, whose unavenged shades are said to linger round the 
 spot, holding in their arms infants covered with gore, and 
 making in the ears of many a terrified listener, such strange 
 noises as come only from the lower regions. Every 
 thing around the house, also, was in keeping with its inte- 
 rior* It stood in the midst of a cluster of ancient elms, 
 whose thick branches inclosed it on every side, and the 
 contact of Which at numerous points, produced, at the 
 least stirring of the wind, sounds the most doleful imagin- 
 able* And to complete the gloomy picture, a wall sur- 
 
LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDING. 145 
 
 rounded the whole, which terminated in a barn and cow- 
 shed, all of huge rough stones, that, owing to their shaded 
 condition, were covered with nnoss. Thus, the whole scene 
 was every way fitted to the character and furniture of the 
 new tenant. As to furniture, ho had none, except a few 
 old oaken chairs that he was induced to buy, because he 
 thought they would never wear out ; a desk, at which 
 from the time of his first going into business he had made 
 out all his accounts, and which he now regarded with a su- 
 perstitious veneration ; a bedstead, upon which he had 
 slept more than forty years; and only so many other 
 things as are indispensable to housekeeping. His family, 
 consisting only of himself and an old domestic, whom long 
 habit had reconciled to his mode of life, he contrived to 
 support by cultivating the farm, an occupation to which 
 he had been accustomed in early life, and to which he now 
 reverted with that fondness, with which age regards the 
 objects familiar to its childhood. In this situation he had 
 passed a few years as quietly as was possible for a mind 
 goaded with remorse, and cankering with the love of 
 money like his, till his wreck of a constitution yielded to 
 the pressure of infirmity, and sunk into the arms of death. 
 A kw days after the interview alluded to above, he was 
 seized with a cold, which brought on a fever, and confined 
 him to his bed. Still, his disease might have been remo- 
 ved by the timely prescriptions of a physician ; but dread- 
 ing the freedom which his ample means tempted the phy- 
 sicians to use in their charges, he never called one, till he 
 had fi ist exhausted his own medical resources, and found 
 no alternative, but to do it, or die. In this case, therefore, 
 13 
 
146 LIFE AND DEATH OF ME. HARDING. 
 
 he allowed the fever to rage a full week before he would 
 permit Betty, his domestic, to go for the physician ; and 
 by this time he was too far gone to admit of a cure. For 
 a few days, however, the medicine had its desired eifect, 
 and he seemed better ; but the sources of vitality were 
 too far exhausted, and the physician, discovering his case 
 to be hopeless, apprised him of the fact, and advised him, 
 if he had any affairs to settle, to attend to them without 
 delay. At this intelligence the poor man was almost 
 frantic, and staring wildly about the room, began to mut- 
 ter half-formed sentences about money — bank stock— se- 
 curities— expenses — hard times — difficulty of keeping 
 what one gets — and finally recovering himself a little, 
 said with great emotion, that, having formed many plans 
 of doing good with his money, he could not believe that 
 God would remove him till they were accomplished. 
 
 The physician, disappointed in the effect of his frank- 
 ness, as he had gathered from the religious style of his 
 remarks, that his faith would render him proof against 
 the fear of death ; and apprehensive that it might aggra- 
 vate his disease, endeavored to recall what he had said, 
 and concluded by sayinir, that if he would employ a cer- 
 tain man in the neighborhood who was celebrated as a 
 nurse, it was possible that he might recover. At all 
 events, he thought it indispensable that he should have 
 more attention, than his old domestic was capable of giv- 
 ing him. 
 
 But the ruling passion, strong in death, rendered Mr. 
 Harding unwilling to incur the expense of a nurse. It 
 had too far usurped the seat of reason to admit of hia re- 
 
LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDING. 147 
 
 fleeting that a hundredth part of his income was more 
 than sufficient to support him sumptuously, or to allow of 
 his looking forward a few days, when that world which 
 he so sincerely hated, would seize upon all that he might 
 leave behind him. These were points which the mind 
 of Mr. Harding, paralyzed by its contact with gold, was no 
 longer able to bring together ; and hence he denied to 
 his sick-bed, not only the means of comfort, but even those 
 things which he was told, were indispensable to his recove- 
 ry. No sooner had the physician left him, than he called 
 his old domestic by his bed-side, and said, ' Betty, if you 
 will be industrious, and do your work, and take care of 
 me besides, I will make you a handsome present, when I 
 recover.' To this, Betty, anxious for the present, of 
 which she got but few, replied; 'Masser, I'll do jist as 
 well as iver I can.' ' Well, Betty, do your work this 
 morning, and come in the afternoon and sit by me, when 
 the doctor comes.' Though this order was obeyed to the 
 best of her ability, still, the sick man was neglected, and 
 when the physician came, he found that his medicines had 
 not been administered according to order, and that his 
 patient was much worse. He then told him peremptorily, 
 that unless he would consent to employ a nurse, he would 
 never visit him again. 'Doctor,' said Mr. Harding, 
 * Betty can do all I want, and why should I incur this 
 needless expense ? What I should pay for a nurse would 
 more than support a poor family !' ' That makes no 
 difference,' said the physician, * if I prescribe for you, I 
 will have my orders [attended to.' When Mr. Harding 
 found his physician inflexible, he consented to have the 
 
148 LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDING. 
 
 nurse sent for. When he arrived, however, the infatuated 
 man would not allow him to begin his work before inqui- 
 ring minutely into the amount of his charge, adding that 
 he had always been annoyed by the exorbitant charges 
 of those whom he had employed to do any thing for him, 
 which had led him to take the precaution of making the 
 bargain before the work was done. And when the nurse 
 had stated his price, he used every persuasion to have him 
 take less, and finally would not consent to employ him at 
 all, till the nurse, to appease his feelings, agreed to take his 
 pay in articles of produce from his farm. 
 
 The physician had apprised the pastor who was in 
 daily habits of attendance on Mr. Harding, that he 
 thought liis case hopeless, and advised him to urge his 
 making his will, as otherwise his property might go into 
 unworthy hands, or become a subject of endless dispute 
 in law. The minister, therefore, watched his opportunity 
 of introducing the subject, that if possible he might do a 
 service by giving a right direction to Mr. Harding*s 
 great estate, though it were not till the last hour of 
 life. 
 
 Having inquired of him, in one of his visits, whether 
 he felt willing to leave the world, in the event of his re- 
 moval by that sickness, Mr. Harding replied, ' Why, as 
 to that, he believed those whom Christ loved, he loved to 
 the end,' that the memory of his conversion forty years 
 ago, was as fresh in his mind at that moment as ever, and 
 that he could not doubt but that it would be well with him 
 after death. Christ has said that 1 shall never perish, 
 and I believe it. But,' added he, * my worldly affairs 
 
LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDING. 149 
 
 occupy my mind so much that I can hardly think of any 
 thing else/ 
 
 The pastor warned him against relying upon what he 
 had experienced forty years before, reminded him that 
 they only had the promise of life who remained faithful to 
 death, told him that it was a serious thing to die, and that 
 many would cry in the last day, Lord, Lord, open to 
 us, to whom Christ would protest that he never knew 
 them. 
 
 But the religious torpor of Mr. Harding's mind ren- 
 dered it proof against all such warnings. When, how- 
 ever, the minister touched upon the subject of his money, 
 advising him by all means to make his will immediately, 
 that he might be prepared for any event, his sensibilities 
 were all awake. ' My money, my money,' said he, * I 
 have long since consecrated that to God, and should have 
 used it Hberally for advancing his cause, if I had found 
 any way of doing it consistently with my sense of duty.' 
 < But it is not too late yet,' replied the minister, ' I would 
 therefore, advise you to forego your objections to our in- 
 stitutions of benevolence, so far at least as to deposit with 
 them, a portion of your money, since it is manifestly im- 
 possible for you to retain it much longer.' ' Why,' in- 
 quired Mr. Harding, ' do you think it decided that I shall 
 not recover V ' Yes I do, indeed,' replied the minister ; 
 * you have been growing worse every day since I saw 
 you ; and I am satisfied that you cannot stand it much 
 longer. At all events, Mr. Harding, will not your mind 
 be more settled if you make your will, than it is at pre- 
 sent.' 
 
 13* 
 
150 LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDING. 
 
 These remarks had their desired effect so far as to set 
 him immediately upon making his will. The proper 
 officers were called to assist poor H. in transferring to 
 others, the property which he found it impossible for him 
 to retain any longer in his own possession. The form of 
 a will was drafted, leaving blanks to be filled at the 
 dictation of the sick man. This proved a most difficult 
 task. As he advanced from item to item, and from object 
 to object, the feeling was depicted in his countenance, ye 
 have taken away my gods which I made, and what have 
 I more ? Seeing, howerer, that there was no further 
 chance for him to control his property, but to do it by 
 will, he waived his objections to the different objects of 
 benevolence brought to his view, and proceeded to make 
 a disposition of all his invested estate. After the will was 
 completed it was presented to him for his signature. But 
 he delayed, seemed involved in deep thought, and became 
 so much agitated that drops of cold perspiration started 
 from every pore. 
 
 He finally confessed that the items of property already 
 named, was not all that he possessed, but that when he 
 came upon his farm, he brought with him a large amount 
 in specie, which he had concealed under ground at 
 different points on his premises. In a certain cave which 
 he named, he said that they \fould find a bag of money ; 
 in another place which he pointed out they would find 
 another bag ; and so he went on to describe several 
 places in which he had buried coin. He wished, he said, 
 to have all this collected and brought to him, that he 
 might see it once more before he died. Men were there- 
 
LIFE AND DEATH OF BIR. HARDING. 151 
 
 fore despatched for the money, who found it as described, 
 and collected an immense quantity, which they poured 
 promiscuously into two corn-bags, and brought it to the 
 death-bed of the owner. No sooner did the money enter 
 the door, than he fixed his eyes upon it with an intense 
 gaze, and immediately seemed more composed. He then 
 desired to have the bags placed on a table by the side of 
 his bed, that he might put his handS: upon them, and that 
 the will should be brought, that he might affix his signa- 
 ture. Both of which were done accordingly, and a pen 
 was placed between his fingers that he might write his 
 name. 
 
 It was an awful moment to all present. It being eve- 
 ning, the sky covered with clouds, the wind howling 
 through the surrounding elms, and the thick darkness 
 occasionally interrupted by the livid glare of lightning, all 
 served to tinge with additional horrors a picture, whose 
 outlines were as terrible as any that may be expected 
 this side the world of wo. All the legendary tales of 
 gory infants, and murdered mothers, uttering their sad 
 plaints in mortal ears, with which the house itself was 
 associated, were spectacles of beauty compared with the 
 actual scene now passing within its walls. Such they were 
 felt to be by the spectators. It seemed the rallying point 
 of devils, satisfied with their glut of human wo, and hold- 
 ing infernal orgies over the potency of gold as a lure to 
 damnation. Every countenance was pale, every limb 
 quaked, and an indescribable feeling came over all, as if 
 they stood within reach of the lurid flames of the bottom- 
 less pit. 
 
152 LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. HARDING. 
 
 Before using his pen, the dying man, rallied strength 
 to rise up in his bed, aided by others, when stretching out 
 his arms to their full length, he clasped the bags of 
 money to his bosom, as a dying mother would her infant 
 for the last time, and gave a deep sigh ; but no sooner did 
 his hands touch each other on the opposite side, than 
 death seized him, one arm he threw back, and with the 
 other he clenched the bags of money, and in that position 
 breathed out his soul to the God that gave it, without 
 having, after all, made any disposition of that property, 
 concerning which he had cherished through life the de- 
 luded feeling that it was consecrated to the work of well 
 doing. 
 
 His estate, which was found to exceed a million, fell 
 into the hands of distant relatives, who spent a large 
 amount of it upon lawsuits in settling their respective 
 claims ; and with the rest they supported a style 
 of living beyond their means, till it was expended, when 
 they settled down again into a state of vice and infamy 
 vastly more degrading, than the one from which they had 
 emerged. Thus, the history of Mr. H. affords a lucid 
 comment upon the saying of the wise man, that, " there is 
 that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to 
 poverty." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 General view of the argument from the Bible. 
 
 Having noticed the several features in our character 
 and relations from which the duty under consideration 
 may be learned, we come now to the laws and tendencies 
 of revealed religion. By whatever arguments from other 
 sources the obligation of systematic beneficence in the 
 use of money may be enjoined, it would be impossible for 
 it to assail the mind with much force, if it were unnoticed 
 or slightly urged in the Holy Scriptures. A conscience 
 seared by sin is proof against the ordinary means of en- 
 forcing moral claims, and will never yield till it feels the 
 concentrated power of all. Moreover, in every other article 
 of duty, the revealed system is exactly suited to the natural ; 
 and all that reason and the moral sense speak concerning 
 right and wrong, is not only left uncontradicted, but is 
 confirmed, by the word of God. Revelation deepens 
 the tones in which nature remonstrates against vice, and 
 pleads for virtue. It expands the limit of our sensible im- 
 pressions by means of faith, and thus what in the ethical 
 economy ' is dark, it illumines ; what is low, it raises and 
 supports.' To find, therefore, a book of this character 
 
154 HOW TO VIEW THE BIBLE ON THIS SUBJECT. 
 
 deficient in its enforcements of the duty under considera- 
 tion, would so weaken our sense of obligation to perform 
 it, that no number of coincident facts from our constitu- 
 tion, physical circumstances, or social relations, would be 
 sufficient to sustain it. 
 
 To do justice, however, to the view which the Bible 
 gives of this subject, it is not only necessary to look at its 
 explicit enactments, but to examine the motives by which 
 they are enforced ; to trace its delineation of characters 
 formed on its own or opposite principles in regard to it, 
 npting its terms of commendation and reproof; the conse- 
 quences accruing usder former dispensations from the ob- 
 servance or neglect of this duty ; its influence upon our 
 prospects for eternity ; and, in fine, the general tendency 
 of revealed religion as it appears from the inspired record 
 of its progress, and from every thing bearing directly or 
 remotely upon tliis point, must be weighed and understood. 
 As it is from the general view of a country that the course 
 of its waters is to be determined, and not from the direc- 
 tion of a single river at a given point ; so, the revealed 
 economy must be viewed in a great variety of bearings, 
 and the scope of the whole understood, before we are 
 qualified to appreciate its drift and its force in regard to a 
 given duty. The command to repent, for instance, iso- 
 lated from other considerations, may have great weight ; 
 but when enforced by the goodness of God, and those doc- 
 trines which cluster round the cross of Christ, it comes 
 homo with vastly greater power to the conscience. In- 
 deed, it is not from isolated precepts that the true force of 
 
PIETY SAME IN ALL AGES. 155 
 
 atjy doctrine or duty is to be appreciated. When the real 
 bearings of revealed truth upon the duty of systematic be- 
 neficence are duly perceived, we believe that an uncor. 
 rupted conscience will feel the guilt of neglecting it as 
 keenly, as that of violating the rights of property, or the 
 sanctity of conjugal or paternal ties. 
 
 To do justice also to the subject, the Old Testament 
 must be examined in connection with the new. The es- 
 sential elements of piety are the same in every generation, 
 and under every variety of form. Personal identity is 
 .not to be affected by a change of costume. Whether in 
 offering beasts on rude altars of stone ; or pouring forth 
 the devout effusions of the soul under the umbrageous 
 canopy of a dense forest, 
 
 " Whose convex boughs, girdling the gloomy air, 
 O'ercanopied their cold and twilight shades 
 While daily suns at distance rolled away ;" 
 
 or decked in the imposing rites of the tabernable 
 worship ; or burning incense on the golden altars of the 
 temple ; or performing the simple rites of the christian in- 
 stitution—piety wears the permanent features of humility, 
 repentance, faith, love, hope, and veneration for the 
 supreme Being. In these its identity consists. The 
 language by which Moses, David and Isaiah, give vent to 
 the feelings of the heart, is in most respects as appropriate 
 to the feelings of christians, as that of Paul, Peter, or 
 John, 
 
 The essential principles for the governing human con- 
 duct also, are as immutable, as the being from Avhom they 
 emanated. The precepts of the moral law have under- 
 
156 ELEMENTS OP DUTY IbENTICAL. . 
 
 gone no change since the creation of the species. It is 
 only in regard to positive precepts that a change has 
 taken place. And even this change is circumstantial, 
 not radical. God levies his contributions on precisely the 
 same objects that he ever did. The affections, the under- 
 standing, the bodily organs, the gift of speech, the time, 
 the property, the influence, and every necessary appendage 
 of our earthly existence, are laid under such restrictions 
 that in the use of them God may be glorified, and his 
 authority acknowledged. Differences in the modes of 
 worship, as they appear in the patriarchal, mosaic, or 
 christian dispensations, consist solely in different combina- 
 tions of these identical elements. The patriarch may 
 have uttered different expressions in coming before God 
 from the Jew, and the Jew from the christian, stiil, ex- 
 pressions of some kind found place in the forms of each. 
 They all consecrated time to God, though it may have 
 been different, as to its amount, and specific portions. — 
 And they all made an offering in money, or of that in 
 which their wealth consisted, though the channels through 
 which it flowed varied, to suit the ritual economies under 
 which they respectively lived. The patriarch took of the 
 firstlings of his flock an offering unto the Lord, the Jew 
 added to this contributions in gold, silver, and precious 
 stones, to erect and furnish sacred edifices ; while the 
 christian paid his money to support his spiritual teacher, 
 to supply the wants of the poor, or accomplish other 
 purposes connected with the advancement of his faith. 
 Thus, while the mode differed, the article consecrated 
 was the same ; and indeed, so far as supply to the un- 
 
OCCULT BEARINGS OF REVEALED TRUTH, 157 
 
 fortunate is considered, was bestowed upon the same 
 object. The claims of beneficence properly speaking, 
 were the same in the first ages of the world that they are 
 now, and those who regarded them were sometimes so hap- 
 py as to find the stranger whomthey sheltered an angel in 
 disguise. 
 
 In order, therefore, to appreciate the instructions of the 
 Bible on this subject, the Old Testament must be viewed 
 in connection with the new, the entire volume being 
 designed to teach m* our duty, upon whom the ends of the 
 world are come. It is with the book of revelation, as with 
 that of nature, many of its pages are but imperfectly 
 studied, if studied at all. And as those principles in art 
 and science which are now wielding the physical destinies 
 of the world, remained through a long line of generations 
 occult and dormant, so doubtless there are many bene- 
 ficent bearings of revealed truth upon life and manners, 
 yet unexerted and unknown. The Bible is not only 
 adapted to a state of society vastly more pure and eleva- 
 ted than any that now exists, but, rightly interpreted and 
 brought out into real life, its tendency is to propel us 
 forward to such a state of society. Its principles, or 
 rather their occult bearings upon human life, require to 
 be explored, delineated, and so clearly explained, that no 
 one shall be able to resist their influence without guilt, 
 any more than he can now feel himself guiltless in viola- 
 ting the most obvious moral claims. 
 
 It should ever be remembered that the inspired record, 
 like nature, is a collection of ultimate facts, and that our 
 14 
 
158 BIBLE, BOOK OP ULTIMATE FACTS. 
 
 object in studying it should be twofold : First, to under* 
 stand the facts themselves ; and second, to secure for them 
 a legitimate control over the character, condition, and 
 destiny of man. Too much of the effort of the church 
 has hitherto been wasted upon an attempt to reconcile 
 these facts with each other, which is as unphilosophical 
 as a like attempt in relation to the facts of nature ; or, in 
 settling minor differences of opinion concerning the facts 
 themselves, which is as hopeless in the present state of 
 man, as it would be to effect a perfect harmony in their 
 views of physical science. The diversities of opinion 
 upon the latter subject are as numerous as upon the for- 
 mer, and had partisan zeal risen to the same degree of in- 
 tensity, they would have made as much noise in the 
 world. But, while in science, men have passed over 
 their diversities, for the purpose of making further disco- 
 very, they have unhappily allowed these diversities in 
 religion to obstruct their course ; and up to this day sec- 
 tarian partialities hang like a dense fog between the in- 
 tellectual eye and the meaning which the Holy Ghost 
 intended to convey. All are in search of arguments for their 
 own cause rather than that of truth ; and nine out of ten 
 who think themselves the most liberal, will start back 
 from a train of investigations which threatens to unsettle 
 their sectarian landmarks. These causes have retarded 
 our discovery of the proper bearings of revealed truth ; 
 and hence many, which are really of the greatest im- 
 portance, are almost wholly unknown or unfeit. 
 
 But to no subject do these remarks apply with greater 
 
ITS TEACHING ON THIS SUBJECT NOT FELT. 159 
 
 force, than to the one in hand. If it be indeed true, that 
 the Bible has affixed its sanction to the duty of systematic 
 beneficence, it remains yet for it to make its voice so 
 heard on the subject, as to produce a decided impression 
 upon those who profess to make it their only guide to faith 
 and duty. This will appear from the fact, that, though 
 there are thousands in the churches of all denominations, 
 who, so far from adopting any plan of beneficence in the 
 use of money, never do any thing in this way worth 
 mentioning ; yet, there is no case in which a vigorous dis- 
 cipline is put in force against them. Nor is the public 
 mind in the church sufficiently instructed on the point to 
 admit of such a discipline, were it attempted. The most 
 flagrant cases of covetousness are connived at, as if it 
 were no sin, or sin beyond the reach of those correctives 
 which the gospel provides. 
 
 But, that the claims of revealed religion cannot be 
 fulfilled, without our adopting a liberal system of ex- 
 penditure in gratuitously purchasing the same benefits 
 for others that we need for ourselves, is a principle, 
 which, if established, ought to awaken in every one 
 who has yet adopted no such system, as keen a sense 
 of guilt, as if his children were perishing through his 
 neglect. By laying out to expend his income wholly 
 upon himself and famil)-, he is helping to rob perish- 
 ing millions, not merely of temporal food, but of their 
 only means of intellectual elevation, of moral improve- 
 ment, and of future salvation. Blood-guiltiness stains 
 his skirts with its deepest dyes. And the voice of the 
 
160 ITS TEACHING ON THIS SUBJECT NOT FELT. 
 
 church should be raised against such an offender, deli- 
 vering him unto Satan for the destruction of the flesh, 
 that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord 
 Jesus« 
 
CHAPTER Xr. 
 
 Inquiry into the proportion of our income whichi' we are bound to 
 devote to God. 
 
 It may be proper, at this stage of our subject, to in- 
 quire whether God has, from any source, furnished the 
 means of determining the proportion, that our pious of- 
 ferings should bear to the whole amount of our income. 
 The duty of giving being admitted, the question recurs, 
 how much ought we to give 1 The decision of this ques- 
 tion may be as material as whether we ought to give at 
 all, since we are as liable to fail of our duty, by not pro- 
 portioning our gratuities to our ability, as by withholding 
 them altogether* Indeed, this is the grand point of fail- 
 ure. There are few in any of the numerous grades of 
 pecuniary ability, from the highest extremes of opulence 
 down to the most abject penury and destitution, that can- 
 not boast of having practised some form or degree of 
 charity. Their minds are stored with so many grateful 
 reminiscences of aim-deeds performed, and gifts bestowed, 
 which, viewed through the medium of their covetousness, 
 appear with a magnitude vastly beyond their natural di- 
 mensions, that no considerations in favor of the duty of 
 
 14* 
 
162 LAW OF TITHES. 
 
 giving, can awaken in them any sense of their own defi- 
 ciencies. Oh ! no ; charity is the very thing they beheve 
 in ; that is their religion ; they are disgusted when much 
 is said of the spiritual graces of the Christian character ; for, 
 to visit the fatherless and widow in their afflictions is the 
 sum of their piety and faith. And yet, if the amount of 
 their charity were compared with the whole of their income, 
 it would probably be found less than one cent for every 
 hundred dollars. They give merely the scum of their 
 estates that cannot be turned to any other account ; but 
 still, it seems to them so great, that they find it diflicult to 
 comprehend how humanity or religion should ask for 
 more. The charities practised by the great mass of the 
 human family are so disproportioned to their means, and 
 so contemptible, that they are just about as remote from 
 the obligations which rest upon them, as if they gave no- 
 thing at all. It is time that those who esteem charity a duty, 
 had taken account of the stock invested in it, that they 
 might ascertain the proportion which it bears to their 
 whole income. When this is done, the illusions of self- 
 love will vanish, and they will find that their duties to a 
 suffering world have yet to be commenced. 
 
 The bearing which the law of tithes in a former dis- 
 pensation has upon the question of proportion now de- 
 manded of the church as an offering to God, is a point 
 that requires a passing attention. Are we bound to de- 
 vote a tenth of all our income to God, the same as those 
 who lived under the civil polity of the Jews ? If not, what 
 use are we to make, if any, of the law requiring from 
 
IS IT BINDING. 163 
 
 them a tenth, in determming the proportion that we are 
 bound to offer ? 
 
 Much as this subject may have been perplexed by 
 learned discussion, we conceive that little need be said, 
 prejudice and system apart, to set it in a light sufficiently 
 clear for all practical purposes. The law of tithes, as a 
 part of the civil polity of the Jews, passed away whh the 
 abolition of that polity. The absence of an explicit trans- 
 fer of that law into the Christian institution, amounts to 
 its total repeal. There is a wide difference between the 
 Jewish nation and the Christian church. The laws given 
 to the first were suited to their condition as inhabitants of 
 the land of Canaan, whose occupations were chiefly agra- 
 rian, and whose civil relations were fewer and more sim- 
 ple than we find in a more artificial and complex state of 
 society. Wlien they came into possession of their pro- 
 mised inheritance, God provided that a tenth of its pro- 
 ducts should be paid into the public treasury, as an ac- 
 knowledgment of Flis right, in whom the ownership was 
 vested. It was His land, which they were permitted to 
 occupy on lease, so long as they should devote a tenth of 
 its proceeds to support the sacerdotal tribe, to defray the 
 expenses of government, and to accomplish the various 
 ends of His own worship. The law of tithes, therefore 
 was designed for a particular locality, and would be found 
 inconvenient to an institution, whose empire is the world, 
 and whose subjects are from all nations, kindreds, people, 
 and languages, under the whole heaven. Such is the con- 
 dition of some portions of the human family, to whom the 
 gospel looks for converts, and who are equally needy of 
 
164 BENEVOLENT PRINCIPLE PROMISES MORE. 
 
 its blessings with any other portion, that the law of tithes 
 would be an effectual barrier to its introduction among 
 them. Under what condition are those wandering clans 
 that infest the American forests, or those who hide them- 
 selves from the rigors of perpetual winter in the caves of 
 Greenland, to give a tenth of all, when their whole pos- 
 session amounts to scarcely sufficient for a bare subsist- 
 ence ? With such an appendage to fetter its movements, 
 the gospel would find it difficult, if not impossible, to per- 
 form the errand of mercy and good will, upon which it is 
 sent into all the world. 
 
 While we concede, however, that the law of tithes, as 
 it existed among the Jews, has been repealed, we think it 
 may be clearly shown that men who inhabit productive 
 portions of the earth, and who have the means, cannot act 
 upon the spirit of the New Testament without devoting to 
 God an amount that shall rather exceed than fall short of 
 that proportion. The truth appears to be this, that our 
 Saviour omitted to transfer the law of tithes into the polity 
 of the Christian church, not because he expected less, but 
 because the benevolent principle which he aimed at esta. 
 blishing, as the grand peculiarity of his dispensation, pro- 
 mised, by the vigor of its own nature, to turn a still larger 
 proportion into channels of mercy and good will. He 
 taught the doctrine of entire consecration in body, soul, 
 and spirit,* and required that holiness unto the Lord 
 should be written, not merely upon the tenth of our sub- 
 stance, but upon the whole. And it is impossible to act 
 
 ♦ See the next chapter. 
 
ADVANCED STATE OF RELIGION. 165 
 
 up to the spirit of his precept and example, without bring- 
 ing our whole existence, physical, intellectual, and naoral, 
 into captivity to His cause, and the greatest good of our 
 race. 
 
 That the law of Christ cannot be fulfilled without the 
 direct sacrifice of more than a tenth of the aggregated 
 wealth in the hands of the church, may be made to appear 
 fi'om a variety of considerations. 
 
 1. The present advanced stage to which revealed reli- 
 gion has attained, gives a right to expect that it should 
 produce voluntary contributions exceeding the proportion 
 of a tenth of all. Even in the infancy of the heaven-born 
 principle, while few channels of beneficence were yet 
 open, and no organized plans of doing good existed ; and 
 while the rites of religion were the simplest imaginable, 
 the voluntary sacrifices of treasure to which it impelled 
 its votaries, equalled, and in some cases exceeded, a tenth 
 of their whole income. This was the proportion oflfered 
 by Abraham to Melchisedek, in virtue of his office as 
 priest of the Most High God ; and the vow of Jacob con- 
 templated the offering of a tenth of all his income. These 
 transactions took their rise in such a manner, as to make 
 it evident, that the religion 1o which they owed their ori- 
 gin, would lead those in all ages upon whom it should be 
 in a condition to produce its legitimate results, to act with 
 a like liberality. They were not the fruit of a system or 
 constitution of things, but the outbreakings of a piety, 
 which had attained such a degree of progress, as to im- 
 pose, by the vigor of its own nature, sacrifices in property 
 to this amount. And if piety, at that early period of its 
 
166 A PROGRESSIVE PRINCIPLE. 
 
 history, produced such results, what ought we not to 
 expect from the present superior advantages for its culti- 
 vation ? 
 
 Revealed religion has had its infancy, its childhood, 
 its youth, its manhood, and will have its old age, not of 
 decay, but of increasing vigor. Its developments have 
 been gradual, as adapted to the progress of human nature 
 in knowledge and experience. As man has increased in 
 his strength to bear, God has increased the burdens to be 
 borne ; thus, as a kind father, proportioning his require- 
 ments to our ability. There was a time when some of 
 the most important duties were not known, and of course 
 not binding ; and when, in accommodation to the weak- 
 ness of human nature, polygamy, retaliation of injuries, 
 and other practices, which are in themselves wrong, were 
 allowed. 
 
 Every new disclosure leads to new modifications of 
 duty ; and the scenes both of Sinai and Calvary placed 
 the obligations of men permanently in advance of what 
 they were before. Progression, not retrogression, is the 
 motto of religion. When she has advanced to a certain 
 stage, and has thrown upon the human mind a certain 
 amount of light, it is impossible for it to fall back into the 
 condition, in regard to its obligations, that it was in before 
 that point was gained. As well may the wheel of life 
 roll backward, instead of advancing to its final termina- 
 tion. And now, is it to be supposed that the imperfect 
 disclosures of religion in the times of Abraham and Jacob, 
 should lead to the voluntary sacrifice of a tenth in pro^ 
 perty, while we, who live under the full blaze of gospel 
 
NECESSITY OF VENT TO OUR SURPLUS STORES. 167 
 
 light — a light which has placed the claims of duty upon 
 us in Other respects so far in advance of what they were 
 before— are left more at liberty to indulge a sordid and 
 exclusive spirit. Are our obligations to the voluntary 
 sacrifice of property, thrown back to the point which they 
 occupied before the times of Abraham and Jacob 1 Did 
 these obligations undergo a process of retrogression by 
 the very means which have extended the claims of heaven 
 upon us in all other respects ; so that, whereas Jacob was 
 impelled to the voluntary sacrifice of a tenth of his in- 
 come, we are only bound to give a twentieth, a hundredth, 
 or none at all, as passion, convenience, or cupidity may 
 dictate 1 No supposition can be more preposterous. 
 
 2. The proportion must exceed a tenth, in order, on the 
 one hand, to afford sufficient vent to the surplus stores in the 
 hands of the church, and on the other, to adapt it to the ne- 
 cessities of human nature. There is probably no one source 
 from which the Christian church is at this moment suffering 
 to the same extent, as from the amount of wealth acquired, or 
 means of acquiring, which either lies dead about the per- 
 sons of her members, or is employed irrespective of the 
 claims of the religion which they profess. All that infi- 
 delity, paganism, Rome, or hell can do, to obstruct the 
 march of her cause, is trifling, compared with the worldly 
 and exclusive spirit in her own sons and daughters. They 
 are proverbially guilty in many cases of a niggardliness 
 in the management of their estates, that we do not find in 
 the men of the world ; and it is oflen more difficult to ex- 
 tract money from them for any object of public utility, 
 than from their infidel neighbors. The church is ren- 
 
168 HOW TO PREVENT INFLAMMATION. 
 
 dered sordid and miserly by this exclusive spirit on the 
 part of her members, her spiritual graces are stinted in 
 their growth, the tone of her feeling is secular and carnal, 
 and all the evils of plethory and abundance are betrayed 
 in her constitution. 
 
 Now, there is no way of remedying these evils, but 
 by embarking in plans of benevolent enterprise on a 
 scale sufficiently ample, to drain off all the surplus stores 
 of the church, beyond a moderate provision for the wants 
 of a civilized and cultivated state. Without some such 
 extended system of depletion, she will become gross in 
 her feelings, and all her moral machinery will be fettered 
 in its movements. A hundredth, a fiftieth, or even a 
 tenth, would no more obviate the evil, than the loss of a 
 few drops of blood from a highly inflamed constitution 
 would reduce the sources of its inflammation, and restore a 
 healthy circulation. Ministers may inculcate piety and 
 growth in grace ; the members of the church may have 
 continual meetings of prayer and exhortation ; revivals 
 may be multiplied ; and every possible endeavor m.ay be 
 used to raise the standard of holy living ; but it will be in 
 vain, so long as Christians hold on to their accumulations. 
 We may as well undertake to make a family healthy, 
 into which we have introduced an infectious disease, as to 
 make the church flourishing in religion, so long as the 
 tartarean dregs of wealth live in her affections, absorb 
 her anxieties, and control her plans of acting. This 
 is a pregnant source of apostacy to her members, and will 
 remain so, till she adopts the principle of prosecuting 
 plana of worldly business, not merely with the view of 
 
MORAL AND INTELLECTITAL DESTITUTION. 169 
 
 giving a tenth, but of employing all beyond an economical 
 supply of her own wants, for the good of her race. 
 
 Moreover, the moral and intellectual destitution which 
 the church is called upon to supply, cannot be met short 
 of a draught upon her resources far exceeding a tenth of 
 all her income. The supply of six hundred milHons with 
 Bibles, tracts, Sunday schools, missionaries, and other 
 means of intellectual and moral elevation, cannot be effect- 
 ed without exhausting all the surplus stores which the 
 church may acquire, by the vigorous exertion of the pro- 
 ductive powers at her command. The Macedonian cry, 
 COME AND HELP, is borne to our ears on all the breezes of 
 heaven ; plans for meeting this call, are, to a great extent, 
 organized to our hand ; and we have only to wield the 
 powers with which God has intrusted us, in subordination 
 to His high and holy claims, and the result will tell glori- 
 ously upon the interests of man and the cause of God. 
 How can Christians mistake the nature or extent of the 
 demand which God is in this way making upon their 
 worldly resources ? 
 
 Thus, the need in which perishing millions stand of 
 our surplus stores, concurs with the danger to ourselves 
 of retaining them in our own possession, to establish the 
 principle that we are bound to employ the whole, beyond 
 an economical supply for ourselves and families, as a 
 gratuity for the wants and woes of human nature. We 
 have only to look at the resources in the hands of church 
 members, and at their means of acquiring, to be con- 
 vinced that the sacrifice of no more than a tenth, must 
 come far short of securing them against the formidable 
 15 
 
170 HOW TO BE SECURE AGAINST EVIL OF RICHES. 
 
 dangers of overloaded abundance. Formidable, I say ; 
 for I challenge the world to show a single instance, in 
 which a Christian has indulged the passion of accumulation, 
 beyond a very moderate degree, without serious detriment 
 to his own piety and usefulness. I know of instances in 
 which pious men, and even ministers, who are largely 
 etigaged in promoting enterprises of benevolence, have 
 suddenly come into possession of estates to the amount of 
 twenty-five, thirty, and even fifty thousand dollars. In 
 the piety of these men, in the integrity of their measures of 
 acquiring, and in the purity of their intentions, I have the 
 utmost confidence. And if there are men on earth who 
 are out of danger from wealth, I believe these are the 
 men. Yet, if they retain these accumulations in their 
 own hands five or ten years, without betraying fearful 
 signs of decay in the energy of the benevolent principle 
 within them, I shall begin to think that the age of miracles 
 has returned. The remark of a certain pious lady upon 
 unexpectedly receiving four or five hundred dollars, "I 
 must give one hundred of it immediately, before it makes 
 me selfish," shows great knowledge of the human charac- 
 ter. The heart never fails to be withered by holding on 
 to such accumulations for the time being, even though it 
 may be with the purpose of giving them ultimately. The 
 way to secure ourselves from danger is, to pour them out 
 upon the alleviation of wo, cis fast as the providence of 
 God pours them into our hands, before they have time to 
 stagnate and infect our feelings with their poisonous 
 miasmata. Thus, to obviate the danger arising from 
 retaining any thing beyond a moderate provision of wealth 
 
PROPORTION OF LABOR DUE TO WEALTH. 171 
 
 for ourselves, and to meet the vast destitution of our 
 species, it seems to be made necessary, and God doubtless 
 intends, that we should sacrifice upon the altar of bene- 
 ficence much more than a tenth of all our income. The 
 precise amount can only be fixed, by regarding circum- 
 stances, and the extent of our surplus stores. 
 
 A question here recurs, which we cannot content our- 
 selves to pass without some attention — how will Christiana 
 be secured against the evil of excessive accumulations, 
 when the mass of men come to be so elevated, (as we 
 hope they may in the millenium,) as to place them above 
 the necessity of the gratuities of the church t How then 
 shall we find vent for our surplus stores? This question 
 resolves itself into another: What proportion of the whole 
 capacity for action and exertion of which men are pos- 
 sessed, ought to be devoted to the accumulation of wealth ? 
 When the mass of human existence becomes so elevated 
 as to supersede the necessity of charitable offerings, then, 
 to secure the character of man against the evil of wealth, 
 more just views, and a more consistent practice, must pre- 
 vail, in regard to the amount of labor to be devoted to 
 the physical callings. 
 
 The human mind has already reached a stage in its 
 onward career, in which this has become a question of 
 the utmost importance. As yet, it has received little at- 
 tention in theory, and still less in practice. As a conse- 
 quence of our general contempt of the claims of benefi- 
 cence, and our prevailing impression that to make money 
 is the chief end of ouf existence in the body, we have 
 gone on inventing imaginary wants, in order to make way 
 
172 MIND SUBJECTED TO MATTER. 
 
 for expending our superabundance upon ourselves, till 
 they have become vastly more numerous than our real 
 wants. Hence, our children no sooner open their eyes 
 upon the world, than they find wants enough produced by 
 the artificial condition which we have prepared for them, 
 to exhaust almost the sole energy of their lives in the 
 drudgery of obtaining a supply. Their bodily appetites 
 and imaginary necessities are the vortex which swallows 
 up nearly all the results of their most untiring and labo- 
 rious industry. The whole course of things is changed ; 
 instead of subjecting matter to mind, in the education of 
 posterity, mind is subjected to matter. They are made 
 to feel under our training, that their intellectual and mo- 
 ral development is to be sought, only so far as it may be 
 made to subserve an honorable and successful business 
 career. Do not the most of those who claim the honor- 
 able title of parent, consider their object gained, when 
 they have acquainted their children with the art of mak- 
 ing an honest worldly fortune ? Is not all that is digni- 
 fied in mind, and exalted in morals reduced, by most of 
 our systems of youthful training, to a state of slavery to 
 matter. The total violation of reason and religion, which 
 is produced by such a course of things, may be seen 
 >vithout argument or illustration. 
 
 If we will only look at the relation which merely 
 physical good sustains to the other means of happiness to 
 man, we shall find little difficulty in determining the pro- 
 portion of attention and labor, which we ought to bestow 
 upon the acquisition of such good. This relation is the 
 same with that of matter to mind, of animal gratifications 
 to the pleasures of holiness, of the clayey tabernacle to 
 
MATTER THE SCAFFOLDING TO RUIN. 173 
 
 its immortal tenant. Physical good is merely the scaffold- 
 ing to be used in rearing the intellectual and moral edi- 
 iice, to be taken down when that object is gained, that it 
 may not mar the beauty and glory of the building. To 
 allow ourselves to become absorbed in such good, to the 
 neglect of that which is moral and intellectual, is vastly 
 more irrational than it would be, in the architect, to ex- 
 haust all his labor and expense upon the scaffolding, to the 
 total neglect of the edifice which he designed to rear. 
 The course he pursues is to lay out just so much labor 
 upon the scaffolding, as to make it a convenient instrument 
 for erecting the building. Precisely such should be our 
 course in regard to the pursuit of physical good. We 
 need just enough to give our intellectual and moral ener- 
 gies suitable play and scope ; but no more. All beyond 
 this will obstruct our attainment of the greatest good of 
 which our natures are capable. 
 
 As the necessities of the world diminish, therefore, 
 still ampler means will be afforded for the cultivation of 
 those exalted and imperishable qualities, in which the true 
 dignity of man consists. And in the same ratio with the 
 decrease in the demand of labor for the meat that perish- 
 eth, will be our increased opportunities of laboring for that 
 which endureth unto life everlasting. The time may per- 
 haps arrive, when physical labor will be no more in pro- 
 portion to all the energies wielded by human nature, than 
 the deep foundation of a vast edifice, of which we lose the 
 view, on account of being absorbed by the glory and mag 
 nificence of the superstructure. When intellect and mor- 
 als shall have attained such an ascendancy otci bcdil} 
 15* 
 
174 T7LT1MATE OBJECT OF PIOUS OFFERINGS. 
 
 gratifications, in the regards and labors of human life, 
 then the ties that bind us to the universe of mind, and to 
 the throne of the Supreme Inteliigence, will have taken 
 such hold upon us, that our connections with matter will 
 sink to a rank of extreme subordination. 
 
 To effect a consummation so devoutly to be desired, 
 was the object of our Saviour's coming to this world, and 
 is the design of his church, so far as she acts upon the 
 commission of her Lord. How, long, therefore, ere she 
 will awake from the dust of her slavery to matter, and 
 put on her robes of intelligence and purity, that she may 
 appear as a bride adorned for her husband ? How long 
 ere Christians will make the worthlessness of this world 
 appear, to the same extent in practice, that they now do 
 in profession ? This they can never do, till they make it 
 manifest that their labors for wealth are not designed to 
 gratify a sordid passion, but to enable them to do good to 
 the souls of men, and to glorify Him who died for them 
 and rose again. 
 
 3. The identity of the ultimate object of pecuniary of- 
 ferings, under the different dispensations, would seem to 
 indicate that there should be no falling off as to the 
 amount. Whatever differences may exist in the direct or 
 specific object on which the patriarch, the Jew, or the 
 Christian, bestowed his pious offerings, the ultimate object 
 was the same — the hcnor of Christ, and the advancement 
 of his reign on earth. The tithes of Abraham, though 
 they went directly into the hands of Melchizedek, were, 
 doubtless, presented with a view to the office of Christ, as 
 priest and intercessor. That prince is said to. have been. 
 
THE REIGN OF CHRIST ON EARTH. 175 
 
 in reference to his priesthood, without father, without 
 mother, without descent, having neither beginning of days» 
 nor end of life ; but nnade like unto the Son of God, abi- 
 deth a priest continually.* Hence, from the apostle's rea- 
 soning in connection with this passage, it would appear 
 that it was for the honor of Christ, of whom Melchizedek 
 was a remarkable type, and as an expression of faith in 
 the blood of atonement, which he was to oifer for the sins 
 of mankind, thai the tithes of the father of the faithful were 
 intended. And what, but a view of the medium of inter- 
 course between earth and heaven through Christ, which 
 was presented to Jacob in his vision of the ladder on which 
 the angels of God ascended and descended, called forth 
 from him the offering of a tenth of all ? To support those 
 institutions, also, which were designed to pave the way 
 for the coming of Christ and the establishment of his 
 kingdom, all of which sustained to Him the relation of a 
 shadow to its substance, was the object of tithes under the 
 Mosaic dispensation. 
 
 And for what are we required to make our offerings, 
 but to advance the cause of Christ, and to accomplish those 
 merciful purposes, in relation to the bodies and souls of 
 men, for which he labored, prayed, and wrought mira- 
 cles while on earth ; for which he poured out his life upon 
 the cross ; for which he rose from the dead, and commis- 
 sioned his disciples to preach the gospel to every crea- 
 ture ? Every offering in treasure which we now make in 
 accordance with the principles of the Bible, whether given 
 directly to relieve temporal want, to remove ignorance 
 
 ♦ Heb. vii— 3. 
 
176 THIS OBJECT CALLS AS LOUDLY AS EVER. 
 
 and vice, or to furnish the means of future salvation, has 
 the honor of Christ as the Saviour of sinners for its ulti- 
 mate object. Hence, the gratuities of every dispensation 
 centre in the same grand point. 
 
 As, therefore, the proportion of a tenth began in some 
 cases to be offered by the patriarchs as a voluntary thing ; 
 as this proportion was required by law under the Hebrew 
 Theocracy ; how can we be excused in presenting less ? 
 We are not speaking of arbitrary enforcements ; for those, 
 as we have already said, were confined to the past dis- 
 pensation — but we are now inquiring after the results, 
 which the spirit of the religion we profess is adapted to 
 produce. It was not an arbitrary enactment that led Ja- 
 cob to sacrifice a tenth of all ; yet, he seems to have con- 
 sidered it his duty to present that amount. And is not 
 the call upon us as urgent as upon him ? Are we less 
 privileged than he? Is the priesthood of Christ less in a 
 condition to be aided in its objects by the sacrifice of 
 treasure nowt than then ? How far otherwise is the fact 1 
 Never was there a time since the foundation of the world, 
 when money could be made to advance the reign of Christ 
 on earth in so many ways, or by such rapid steps, as at 
 the present period. From what source, therefore, do we 
 derive our logic, that we are not bound to give as much, 
 or more, than in the former dispensations ? It cannot be 
 from the New Testament ; for the example of the Hero 
 of that volume, the doctrines he taught, and the lives of 
 his immediate followers, would lead us to suppose that 
 our offerings should greatly exceed the proportion of a 
 tenth, rather than that they should fall short of that 
 
HOW TO INTERPRET THE COMMANDS OF CHRIST. 177 
 
 amount. But on this topic we shall have occasion to 
 dwell more at large under the following head. 
 
 4. Though there is no transfer of the law of tithes 
 into the New Testament, yet, the commands of Christ, as 
 interpreted and acted upon by the primitive church, evi- 
 dently require of us the sacrifice of more than a tenth. It 
 must be perceived by all, that commands which cannot 
 be obeyed without making sacrifices exceeding thai pro- 
 portion, amount to an explicit requirement of such sacri- 
 fices. The father's command upon his son to carry a 
 burden often pounds weight, is tantamount to requiring him 
 to put forth a sufficient degree of muscular strength to carry 
 that weight, since the command involves such an exertion 
 of strength, and cannot be obeyed without. It is precise- 
 ly thas with those commandments which are at the basis of 
 the Christian institution. They canot be acted upon by 
 the church, short of sacrifices in property that shall exceed 
 the tenth of all her income. 
 
 How can the gospel be preached to every creature, 
 the ignorant be taught, the sick and imprisoned visited 
 and relieved, correctives be applied to the vices and errors 
 of mankind, and the mass of human existence be propel- 
 led forward in the career of dignity and improvement, till 
 it reaches the illustrious elevation contemplated in the 
 times of the millenium, unless the benevolent principle in 
 the church, shall have attained such an ascendancy, that 
 the stinted proportion of a tithe shall be no longer able to 
 circumscribe the amount of her pious gratuities? And 
 yet, that the spirit of our Saviour's requirements embra- 
 ced the accomplishment of all this good to man, was well 
 
178 CHURCH ORGANIZED FOR WAR. 
 
 understood by the primitive church ; and she formed her 
 plans of action and sacrifice on a proportionate scale. 
 She threw her whole physical, as well as moral and intel- 
 lectual energies, into the work of propagating her faith. 
 Hers was an organization, not for quiet enjoyment and 
 spiritual luxuriance, but for offensive war and deadly on- 
 set. She felt that she had attained a point in the march 
 of religion on earth, like that which Leonidas and his 
 dauntless band occupied in regard to the freedom of 
 Greece, which required that she should throw herself into 
 the moral Thermopylse, and there, before the bra- 
 zen front of armed millions, dispute with hell the palm of 
 victory, till the soil should be drenched with the last drop 
 of her life's blood. Had her course been different — had 
 she sought an organization to make her members quiet 
 and happy, like that of her pretended successors of this 
 age, she would not so soon have shaken the social fabric 
 to its centre, nor extorted from the dignitaries of Rome the 
 homage to the despised Nazarine, of casting their crowns 
 at his feet. She would not so soon have spread discom- 
 fiture and dismay among the old superstitions, which had 
 entrenched themselves around with prejudice invincible, 
 with precedents ancient as time, and with an array of 
 passions, arts and arms. Can any one, after reading the his- 
 tory of the first age of Christianity, doubt whether the 
 commands of Christ were then interpreted to require in 
 worldly property a tenth of all? Oh, this proportion 
 would not have covered a hundredth part of the sacrifices 
 actually made by the first Christians, in fulfilling what 
 they understood to be the requirements of their Master ! 
 
VAST TERRITORIES YET TO BE SUBDUED. 179 
 
 And now, has the revolution of ages wrought any 
 change in the spirit of our Saviour's precepts ? Has it 
 blunted their force, or circumscribed the range of their 
 influence ? Or have sacrifices in money lost the power 
 to aid the accomplishment of His merciful designs ? It is 
 far otherwise. There was never a time when such sac- 
 rifices could be made to tell more decidedly, or more ex- 
 tensively, upon the interests of mankind, than since modern 
 discoveries have spread around us their splendid results. 
 With the present improved state of the art of printing, 
 nothing is wanting but the pecuniary means, to render 
 copies of the word of God equal to the number of families 
 upon earth; to deluge the world with tracts, and other 
 instruments of knowledge ; and thus, to render it not only 
 possible for men to know something of the Christian reli- 
 gion, but impossible that they should continue in igno- 
 rance. The word of life is translated into the languages 
 of Hindoostan, of Burmah, and of China, which are sup- 
 posed to be spoken by nearly five hundred millions of im- 
 mortal beings ; and the most that is needed to line the 
 coasts of that vast section of the globe with copi(^s of the 
 truth-speaking book, is the means of defraying the ex- 
 pent-e. The paper may be had ; men may be hired to 
 perform the mechanical labor, or to freight their ships 
 with the precious cargo, to be borne by heaven's propi- 
 tious gales from centre to circumference of that dark and 
 wide-spread area of human crime and moral desolation. 
 The way is open for introducing millions more of children 
 into the light of a Christian education ; for vastly increas- 
 ing the number of young men educated for usefulness in 
 
180 DIRECT EFFORTS OF ALL THE CHURCH NEEDED. 
 
 the ministry and other departments of benevolent labor ; 
 and for multiplying missionaries and all other auxiliaries 
 in the work of well-doing, provided the necessary resour- 
 ces were poured into the treasury of Zion. 
 
 The time has come when the primitive practice of 
 embarking the direct efforts of all the church in the work 
 of propagating her faith, instead of confining them to the 
 clerical profession, needs to be revived. Why should mi- 
 nisters monopolize this labor ? Would that all the Lord's 
 people were prophets ; that the weak were as David, and 
 the house of David as the angel of God ! The whole 
 church must become " instinct with life ;" and like the 
 polypus, though it were cut into as many fragments as 
 there are members, and scattered to as many points on 
 the surface of the globe, each fragment must embody so 
 much of the energy of divine life, and so much of the 
 impulsive power of the gospel, as to become in itself a 
 complete organization of benevolent and holy action. In 
 this way, the living forms of mercy and good will might 
 be at once multiplied to an indefinite extent, and there 
 might spring up simultaneously over the whole valley of 
 dry bones, an exceeding great army, clothed with sinews 
 and muscles, and animated by the Spirit of the Lord. 
 
 At the rate of movement required by our present no- 
 tions, however, that the laborer on foreign shores must 
 have an extra-divine call, over and above the energy 
 of the Christian principle within him, and that his brain 
 must be gorged with all the lore of ancient and modern 
 learning, it will require a million of years for the beams of 
 truth and holiness to traverse the continent of darkness. 
 
PROSPECT OF A CONFLUENCE OF BLOODS. 181 
 
 Things cannot go on at this rate much longer. No ! no ! 
 the Lord is even now pouring out upon his people, an 
 energy of feeling for the heathen world, that is just ready- 
 to break through our cautious restraints, and deluge the 
 nations with the means of salvation. And if a general 
 call were made upon the church for volunteers, there are 
 thousands of mechanics, farmers, and merchants, whose 
 piety is as deep-toned as that of the ministry, who would 
 rejoice to enter the army of benevolence upon foreign 
 shores. Colonies of pious persons of both sexes, might 
 be transferred to different points along the coasts of dark- 
 ness, to become identified with the native inhabitants in 
 costume, manners, and all but their crimes and idolatries ; 
 and thus, in the most effectual way possible, contribute to 
 the triumph of virtue and truth over the human character. 
 And should a confluence of bloods, together with the melt- 
 ing down of the species into one mass, follow in the train 
 of this great work, the friends of man would not, probably, 
 see cause in the end to regret the result. We are no ad- 
 vocates for the physical amalgamation of the human 
 species. The process is utterly abhorrent to our feelings. 
 But, in despite of our fastidiousness, we caimot be blind to 
 the process, bad as it may be in itself, which is now tending 
 to this result. And we fancy that we can detect in it the 
 operation of that Unseen Hand, who maketh the wrath of 
 man to praise Him, bringing on the glorious consummation, 
 when " every man in every face shall see a brother and a 
 friend." Whatever practical bearings upon the question 
 of physical amalgamation, may be exerted by the trans- 
 fer of masses of human being from the luminous to the 
 16 
 
182 LAY-AGENCIES IN DOING GOOD. 
 
 dark portions of the earth, there can be no objection to 
 such a transfer, so long as it is confined to the single ob- 
 ject of advancing the intellectual and moral well-being of 
 the world. There can be no objection to having many- 
 run to and fro in the earth, if knowledge is only increased. 
 Why, therefore, should we disdain lay- agencies in doing 
 good, when the apostles both received and commended 
 those women who labored with them in the gospel ? We 
 would not have them sent out unaccompanied by those 
 who should be gifted with the stores of learning. No : 
 the phalanx would not be complete, unless it were mar- 
 shalled under its leaders. But, for every such leader we 
 may send out our tens, our fifties, and our hundreds, whose 
 chief qualifications shall be those ofpiety, good sense, a com- 
 mon degree of Bible knowledge, a love of the work, and a 
 fearlessness in undertaking it. The spirit for embarking 
 in this holy enterprise is abroad, and the most that is 
 wanted is the pecuniary means. Will not the commands 
 of Christ, therefore, bear the same interpretation, in re- 
 gard to the use of money, now^ that they did in the first 
 age of Christianity ? 
 
 Suppose the primitive church, with their glowing zeal^ 
 indomitable spirit, and unbounded devotion, had been 
 thrown upon our times, how think they would look abroad 
 upon the six hundred millions to whom the name of Jesus 
 is unknown ? What views would they take of the press, 
 of the present advanced state of science and art, of the 
 improved plans of education, of the facilities for passing 
 over space, of the favorable bearing of governments 
 towards the propagation of our faith, and of the various 
 
PRIMITIVE CHURCH IN OUR CIRCUMSTANCES. 183 
 
 means of mercy which are now in the power of the 
 church ? Could they hesitate a moment about interpret- 
 ing the commands of Christ into an obligation of giving 
 up more than a tenth of all their worldly income ? 
 
 With an offering no greater than a tenth, under our 
 circumstances, how would the Genius of the Mosaic and 
 patriarchal dispensations rise up to our condemnation ! If 
 Abraham's ashes could speak from the tomb, or if the 
 spirit of Moses could be attracted to our mountain-tops by 
 another transfiguration, how would they chide our parsi- 
 mony, for giving only a tenth where so much is demand- 
 ed ! The law of tithes by no means embraced all the 
 pious offerings even of the Israelites, in the better days 
 of their religion ; and how much less ought it to circum- 
 scribe ours ! Such are some of the considerations on 
 which we found the position, that our Saviour omitted not 
 to transfer the law of tithes into the economy of his church, 
 because he expected they would sacrifice less, but be- 
 cause the benevolent principle which lie aimed at estab- 
 lishing, promised to produce more. 
 
 5. On one point regarding the amount of our pious 
 offerings, the New Testament Scriptures are very explicit, 
 and that is, that they should be proportioned to our pecu- 
 niary ability. This is in fact the law of nature ; for even 
 that teaches, that it is required of a man according to what 
 he has, and not according to what he has not. If any 
 man minister let him do it as of the ability which God 
 giveth-* If there be first a willing mind, it is accepted 
 of a man according to what he hath, and not according to 
 
 * 1 Peter iv. 11. 
 
184 OFFERINGS PROPORTIONED TO OUR ABILITY. 
 
 what he hath not. For I mean not that other men be 
 eased, and ye burdened ; but by equahty, that now at 
 this time your abundance may be a supply oflheir want — 
 that there may be equality.* The first thing to be 
 secured is that vigorous and diffusive piety, which makes 
 a man wilhng to meet the claims of duty, to the utmost 
 extent of sacrifice which they may require. If religion 
 do not open the heart to feel, to give, and to labor for the 
 alleviation of human suffering, it might about as well re- 
 main closed. For no other motive can impart to the gift 
 the quality of a religious offering, or secure for it an 
 efficacious destination. Neither prayers nor alms alone 
 have much weight, but united, they come up before God, 
 and secure the happiest results. 
 
 The right motive therefore being gained, the scale on 
 which we are to graduate our offerings, is the degree of 
 pecuniary means at command. The design is that the 
 burden, if it be such, should press equally upon the mem- 
 bers of Christ's body, according to the respective strength 
 of each — that every bone, sinew, and muscle, should 
 contribute its appropriate share in bearing the ark of the 
 covenant and the mercy-seat to all lands. There would 
 be no justice in requiring one to do more in proportion to 
 his ability than another. Thus, after enforcing com- 
 mands that cannot be fulfilled short of sacrifices in proper- 
 ty exceeding a tenth of all, the founders of the Christian 
 church are explicit, in requiring that all its members 
 should submit to be taxed in proportion to their ability. 
 
 *2Cor.vu. 12-14. 
 
CARE IN JUDGING OF A MAn's ABILITY. 18f) 
 
 They say nothing to countenance the present inequality 
 in the offerings of Christians. 
 
 Great discretion, however, must be used in judging of 
 a man's abihty to meet the claims of beneficence. There 
 are some that have less property in possession than others, 
 who ought, notwithstanding, to do more. If a man's 
 estate is unproductive and unavailable, it can be of little 
 present service to him in any point of view. Or if it 
 would not be his, if an honest debt were paid, great al- 
 lowance must be made in determining the extent of 
 charity which he ought to bestow. Or if his unavoidable 
 expenses are greater in proportion to his income than 
 those of another man, it may not be his duty to give any 
 more, or even as much, as that other. With little funded 
 property, a man in a brisk and prosperous business, whose 
 available resources are considerable, ought not to think 
 himself burdened to afford another ease, though the latter, 
 with more property in hand which is unproductive, be re- 
 quired to give less than himself. All these inequalities 
 must be considered, in determining the extent of pious 
 offerings, that ought to be made in particular cases. 
 
 That Christians, however, ought to make a conscience 
 of putting their property into a condition, as far as possi- 
 ble, that will admit of their practising a beneficence pro- 
 portioned to its value, there is no more reason to doubt, 
 than that they ought to dispose of their time, so as to have 
 a portion for prayer and public worship. To grasp before- 
 hand an amount of property that will require all the 
 available funds of every succeeding year to free from en- 
 cumbrance, on purpose to gratify a propensity for hoarding, 
 16* 
 
186 DEBTS CONTRACTED AS AN EXCUSE FOR NOT GIVING. 
 
 is a practice marked by features of guilt as appalling, as 
 that of making secular engagements on the Sabbath, that 
 they may not interfere with the business of the week. 
 This running into debt, to find an apology for covetous- 
 ness, is the ingenious method by which thousands con- 
 trive to rob God, without disturbing their conscience, or 
 injuring their reputation. Every church should have 
 virtue sufficient to punish such offenders as rigorously, 
 as those who violate the sanctity of the Lord's day. Is 
 it worse to rob God of time than of money 1 Oh ! when 
 will the churches of Christ have the moral courage to 
 put away these abominations from among them ! The 
 toleration of a few such members, is sufficient to secula- 
 rize the spirit of the whole. A little leaven leaveneth 
 the whole lump. 
 
 A departure from the principle of equality, in giving, 
 than which nothing is more common, our Saviour reproves, 
 in what he said upon seeing the people bringing in their 
 offerings into the temple. He looked up, and saw the 
 rich casting their gifts into the treasury. And he saw 
 also a poor widow casting in two mites. And he said, Of 
 a truth, I say unto you, that this poor widow hath cast in 
 more than they all : for all these have of their abundance 
 cast in unto the offerings of God ; but she of her penury 
 hath cast in all the living that she had.* Alas ! that 
 among the professed followers of Him who gave this re- 
 proof, there should be, up to this day, an inequality in 
 casting in the offerings of God, as gross as in the case 
 
 ♦ Luke, xxi. 1—4. 
 
SIN OF INEQUALITY — MUST BE CORRECTED. 1S7 
 
 which He here notices ! As a general thing, they bear no 
 just proportion to the ability of the donors. Avaricious 
 abundance doles out its scanty pittance, while pious indi- 
 gence opens a liberal hand, and casts in all her stores. 
 How can the church slumber over this enormous evil ? 
 With less system and less liberality in devoting money to 
 God, than characterized the latter period even of the pa- 
 triarchal dispensation — that starlight era of the world — 
 how can she expect the approbation of her Lord ? 
 If we might judge from the practice of many, and the 
 reasonings of some, who tell us that the gospel imposes 
 no obligation of acting on system in this matter, but leaves 
 each to act as he pleases about giving any, or none at all ; 
 we might be inclined to believe that the object of our Sa- 
 viour's mission and death, was to procure from heaven a 
 dispensation of worldliness and carnality to pious men. 
 The claims of God are neither to be felt nor acted upon by 
 them, because, forsooth, they can find no law in the New 
 Testament requiring a certain proportion ! 
 
 Reform, under such circumstances, may be difficult, 
 but must be attempted without delay. It matters not that 
 the malignant passions of those who never had a mind to 
 give, are stirred up. It is better that they should break 
 out into a nauseous abscess, than that they should turn in- 
 ward, and become a consumption on the vitals of the body. 
 May heaven forbid, that we should be terrified from enfor- 
 cing wholesome discipline, against those who will not sub- 
 mit to the spirit of our Saviour's precepts, in proportion- 
 ing their gratuities to the extent of their means ! With- 
 
188 SIN OF INEQUALITY— MUST BE CORRECTED. 
 
 out such discipline, our prayers and alms will be ineffec- 
 tual ; and the arm of our power will fall enervated and 
 flaccid at our side. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 Doctrine of entire consecration. 
 
 There are collateral topics which add still further 
 confirmation to the view, that we have given in the fore- 
 going chapter. In advancing to the consideration of them, 
 how necessary is it to have our minds divested of the 
 prejudice which may arise from our selfish passions ! The 
 influence of these passions in closing the mind against the 
 convictions of truth is by no means confined to the uncon- 
 verted. It exists, to an alarming extent, in the church. 
 Owing to this influence, some may be inclined to say, 
 * Well, this is enough for me. I want no more of a book 
 that undertakes to say that I ought to give more than a 
 tenth of my income. I am a better judge on this point 
 than any one else ; I ask no advice.' But, are you a 
 Christian, and can you not listen to the Founder of your 
 faith ? Have you not sufficient confidence in Him to be- 
 lieve that His laws are our safest guides, even in regard 
 to property and the affairs of this world ? Look, there- 
 fore, to the tendency on this point of those instructions 
 which His word contains. 
 
 The doctrine of entire consecration, upon which the 
 Scriptures so largely insist, must have failed of its legiti- 
 
190 DOCTRINE OF ENTIRE CONSECRATION. 
 
 mate influence over us, if it has yet produced no such sys- 
 tem of gratuitous expenditure upon the cause of God, and 
 the interests of mankind. Let any one take the passages 
 and facts that bear upon this point, give them a right in- 
 terpretation, and compare them with each other, and with 
 other features of the revealed economy, and he could no 
 more fail of discovering in them the duty in question, than 
 he could of finding murder prohibited by the civil code of 
 this nation. Yea, he would find, that, to devote to God 
 no more than we could spare as well as not, or the refuse 
 of our wealth, would come as far short of the Scripture 
 idea of consecration, as to offer the lame, the halt, and the 
 blind would, of answering the design of the law regarding 
 sacrifice, under a former dispensation. And though he 
 might not find the specification of a particular amount, in 
 the constitution of the Christian church, he must see, if he 
 is impartial, that the portion to be thus consecrated, should 
 be the first fruits of his income ; should be kept in view 
 as a primary object in the pursuit of wealth ; and that, so 
 far from coming short of the tithe required of the Israel- 
 ites, it is the obvious design of revelation as a whole, that 
 it should exceed this amount. Every honest inquirer 
 after the truth on this subject, must rise from his investi- 
 gations with the conviction, as we have shown, that the 
 Founder of the gospel church omitted to transfer the law 
 of tithes into the rules which he has given that body, not 
 because the proportion should be less, but because the 
 superior efficacy of his religion, and the doctrine of 
 supreme consecration to God in body, soul and spirit^ 
 which he inculcated both by precept and his own aflfect- 
 
FOUND IN THE FIRST PRECEPT OF THE LAW. 191 
 
 ing example, might be expected to produce still more. He 
 demands all — that we should live wholly unto Him who 
 died for us and rose again ; and that the entire energies 
 of our being, physical, intellectual, and moral, should be 
 thrown upon the altar of the Christian sanctuary. If the 
 example of the primitive church contains in it the force 
 of law, as we all agree in believing, what man can read the 
 New Testament — can trace through the Acts of the Apos- 
 tles, and the succeeding epistles — can view the faithful lov- 
 ing not their lives even unto the death, and esteeming it a light 
 thing to be required to give up for Christ no more than all 
 their worldly estates, without being convinced that we can- 
 not act up to the spirit of the Christian institution, unless we 
 adopt the principle of giving up much more than a tenth 
 of our income to advance the interests of piety, and the 
 salvation of souls? The inquiry of one, upon whom the 
 doctrine of consecration produces its legitimate fruits, will 
 not be, ' How much can I spare for God V but, ' How 
 little can I make answer for myself?' and ' How much can 
 I contrive to make tell upon the honor of my Redeem- 
 er, and the salvation of a world lying in wickedness ?' 
 
 To exhibit all the points of view in which the doctrine 
 of consecration is presented in the scriptures, would be 
 impossible. After noticing a ^qw detached considerations 
 on the subject, we must leave it for those who are inter- 
 ested, to prosecute the inquiry. This doctrine finds an 
 immutable basis in the first article of the divine law, that 
 key-stone in the arch of moral empire — Thou shalt love 
 the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy 
 
192 CLAIM OF THE LAW ORIGINAL AND UNIVERSAL. 
 
 soul, and with all thy might.* Can God be loved in a 
 manner answerable to this requirement, by one who with- 
 holds from him so material an appendage of his earthly 
 existence as money ? We might as well ascribe bene- 
 ficence to one who leaves his neighbor to perish with 
 hunger, rather than expend any thing for his relief. No, 
 God cannot be loved supremely by one who refuses to 
 adopt a plan of serving him in the use of his money. All 
 the heart, soul, might, includes the physical, not less than 
 the moral energies. Our love must be in deed and in 
 truth, as well as in word and in tongue. He who with- 
 holds the earthly fruits of his enterprise, whatever may 
 be his profession of having fulfilled the law, could not en- 
 dure the test of being required to sell all that he has, and 
 giving to the poor, as a condition of entering into life. 
 Such a test would show that his heart is in a state of total 
 hostility to the divine law. 
 
 The claim of supreme consecration, which the law 
 urges is original, arising from the immutable relations 
 subsisting between God and his creatures, and covers the 
 whole extent of the moral government. It is coeval and 
 coextensive with the existence of accountable agents. 
 Having received from God being and its blessings, what 
 is more reasonable than that all should be returned to 
 him, 
 
 " Author of this uni-verse 
 
 And all this good to man" 
 
 in due and appropriate acknowledgments, as rivers return 
 ♦ Deut. vi. 5. 
 
god's right covers all the phases of our being. 193 
 
 to the ocean, the waters which its own abundance sup- 
 plies ? 
 
 But in relation to us as creatures fallen, yet redeemed 
 through the interposition of mercy, there exist peculiar 
 and unparalleled claims of consecration to God. To ex- 
 hibit all the points of view in which these claims are urged 
 in the scriptures would be impossible ; since they find 
 place in one form or another in every book, and almost 
 in every page. They are wrought into the texture of 
 revelation itself. God sets forth a right to his people that 
 covers the whole extent of their faculties and possessions, 
 and that runs throughout all the phases of their being, 
 from its commencement onward in the track of eternal 
 ages. It was typically set forth in the claim which he 
 made upon his ancient people, the descendants of Abra- 
 ham. Israel was said to be holiness unto the Lord, and 
 the first fruits of all his increase.* And they were re- 
 quired to acknowledge the justice of it in the annual 
 presentation of their offerings, by using a prescribed form 
 of speech, in which the circumstances that gave rise to 
 God's peculiar right in them, were minutely detailed. A 
 Syrian ready to perish was my father, and he went down 
 into Egypt, and sojourned there with a few, and became 
 there a nation, great, mighty, and populous ; and the 
 Egyptians evil-entreated us, and afflicted us, and laid 
 upon us hard bondage — and when we cried unto the Lord 
 God of our fathers, the Lord heard our voice, and looked 
 on our affliction, and our labor, and our oppression — and 
 
 ♦ Jer. ii. 3. 
 17 
 
194 GOD, THE SAME IN THE BIBLE AS IN rBOVIUENCE, 
 
 the Lord brought us forth out of Egypt with a mighty 
 hand, and with an outstretched arm, and with terribleness, 
 and with signs, and with wonders ; and he hath brought 
 us into this place, and hath given us this land, even a land 
 that floweth with milk and honey. And now, iehold, I 
 have brought the Jirst fruits of the land, which thou, Lord, 
 hast given me.* With this acknowledgment of the entire 
 right which God had in him and all he possessed, the pious 
 Israelite brought his yearly offerings, and placed them 
 before the Lord. When also he had made an end of 
 tithing the increase of the third year, giving it to the 
 Levite, the stranger, and the fatherless, he was required 
 to say before the Lord his God, I have brought away the 
 hallowed things out of my house, and have given them to 
 the Levite, the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow, 
 according to all thy commandments, neither have I for- 
 gotten them.f God was accustomed to remind them of 
 what he had done for them, how he bare them on eagles' 
 wings, and brought them unto himself Now, therefore, 
 he adds, if ye will obey my voice ye shall be a peculiar 
 treasure unto me above all people, and shall be unto me a 
 kingdom of priests, and a holy nation.:]: 
 
 Two things are remarkable in these passages ; the 
 first is the peculiar property which God had acquired in 
 them by his extraordinary favors to their nation ; and 
 the second is, his often repeated demand upon them to ac- 
 knowledge His right in them, by devoting a portion of 
 their substance to the support of the Levite, stranger, 
 
 ♦Deut. xxvi. 5—10. tDeut. xxvi— 13. tEx. xix. 5—6. Pr. cxxxv.4. 
 
TIES BY WHICH THE CHURCH IS BOUND TO GOD. 195 
 
 fatherless, and widow. Thus, God, with characteristic 
 benevolence, turns his right over into the hands of his 
 chosen ministers, and of the needy ; and employs it in fill- 
 ing the world with deeds of mercy and beneficence. How 
 like the God of whose munificence we are all the daily 
 partakers, does He appear, who framed the civil consti- 
 tution of the Hebrew nation ! 
 
 The Christian church is bound to God by ties still 
 more strong and endearing. Redeemed, not from Egypt, 
 but from the worse bondage of sin and death, not with 
 corruptible things as silver and gold, but with the pre- 
 cious blood of Christ — carried in the arms of everlasting 
 love — taken from a prison to a throne, from hell to hea- 
 ven, by a special act of divine power and condescension — 
 what have they on which they ought not to write, holi- 
 ness unto the Lord ? Is it life ? health ? muscular vigor ? 
 influence ? time ? talents ? money ? nay ; all these are 
 secured to them as the result of those groans by which 
 the rocks were broken and day veiled in curtains of 
 night ; of that blood which cleanseth from all sin. Look, 
 ye redeemed of the Lord, at what you were, at what you 
 are, at what you hope to be ; then see the hand that hath 
 wrought the change, and the agonizing means of its ac- 
 complishment, and tell me whether you can live another 
 day withou^t a liberal system of pecuniary beneficence, 
 that thus in showing mercy to others, you may imitate 
 the mercy which has been shown to you? 
 
 Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy 
 nation, a peculiar people ; that ye should show forth the 
 praises of Him who hath called you out of darkness into 
 
196 ANOMALY FILLING ANGELS WITH AMAZEMENT. 
 
 his marvellous light.* Let every member of Christ's 
 body, therefore, reflect, ' I am of a geHeration chosen and 
 select, a consecrated Priest of the Most High, belong to 
 a holy nation and a peculiar people ; and the object of my 
 being made such, is to show forth the praise of Him who 
 hath called me to these exalted privileges. How would 
 it appear in me to live for the purpose of amassing wealth 
 to lavish upon myself and descendants? What a spec, 
 tacle of incongruity should I exhibit, by employing such 
 gifts when bestowed, in sacrificing to my own net, and burn- 
 ing incense to my own drag, as if by these my portion 
 were made fat, and my meat plenteous ; when I might, if 
 I chose, render them subservient to the honor of the Su- 
 preme Giver, and the highest interests of the world !' 
 If there is an anomaly in the universe on which angels 
 look with amazement, it is a Christian having the oppor- 
 tunity of doing good with his money, and yet having no 
 heart to it ! Those who profess to be the peculiar pro- 
 perty of God, unwilling to give him any right in an object 
 on which they have expended the chief labor of life, ex- 
 cept only when the circumstances are so exciting as to 
 render it quite impossible for them to withhold ! Offerings 
 thus extorted, are of a hot-bed growth, and are little bet- 
 ter than none, because they do not flow from the settled 
 principle of consecration to God. 
 
 Such was not the course of the Macedonian converts, 
 as we learn from the following commendation of their 
 practice. Moreover, brethren, we make known to you the 
 
 * 1 Peter, ii. 9. 
 
EXAMPLE OF MACEDONIAN CONVERTS. 197 
 
 grace of God bestowed on the churches of Macedonia ; 
 fmeaninj?, doubtless, the charitable contributions to which 
 they were excited by the grace of God in their hearts,] 
 how that in a great trial of affliction, the abundance of 
 their joy and their deep poverty abounded unto the riches 
 of their liberality. For to their power, (I bear record,) 
 yea, and boyond their power, they were willing of them- 
 selves ; [did not wait to be excited to liberality by stirring 
 appeals,] praying us with much entreaty that we would 
 receive the gift, and take upon us the fellowship of the 
 ministering to the saints. Yea, beyond our expectations, 
 they first gave themselves to the Lord, and unto us by the 
 will of God.* Thus, unmoved by eloquent and high- 
 wrought appeals, and even unsolicited, they stepped for- 
 ward, impelled by the ordinary operation of their faith, to 
 sacrifice liberally from their scanty means, upon the relief 
 of the poor at Jerusalem. They interpreted their Chris- 
 tian vows into an obligation to this course ; and having 
 first given themselves to God, in an everlasting covenant, 
 they had no difficulty in deducing thence the obligation, 
 of giving themselves up to the service of those who were 
 making collections for the poor saints. The latter they 
 doubtless esteemed the result of the principles of their 
 consecration, as necessary as any service which they 
 could perform directly to Christ. 
 
 The apostle improves upon the idea of making works 
 of beneficence a consequence of being devoted to God, 
 which the example of the Macedonian converts suggested, 
 by holding it up to tlie Corinthian church. Therefore, 
 
 *2Cor. 8. 
 17* 
 
198 CLIMAX OF THE ARGUMENT FOR CHARITY 
 
 he adds, as ye abound in every thing, in faith, and utter- 
 ance, and knowledge, in all diligence, and in your love to 
 us, see that ye abound in this grace also. Let your con- 
 secration to God in the exercise of all the Christian affec- 
 tions, with which you have already conjoined love to your 
 brethren, have full scope in controlling your pecuniary 
 expenditures. Be as conspicuous in the substantial acts 
 of mercy to the suffering, as you are in the internal gra- 
 ces of the Christian character. For you know the grace 
 or charity of your Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was 
 rich, for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his 
 poverty might be rich. Thus, the apostle finds the cli- 
 max of his argument for charity, in the example of Him 
 whose devotion to our good led him to sacrifice ease, 
 honor, and abundance in heaven, to become a tenant of 
 this sin-disordered world, that he might lay the foundation 
 of our hope, and raise us to riches, honor, and eternal life 
 in his kingdom. 
 
 'Pardon for infinite offence ! and pardon 
 Through means that speaks its value infinite ! 
 A pardon bought with blood ! with blood divine ! 
 With blood divine of Him I made my foe ! 
 
 my praise! forever flow ;^ 
 
 Praise ardent, cordial, constant; to high Heaven 
 More fragrant, than Arabia sacrificed. 
 And all her spicy mountains in a flame.'* 
 
 How can such an example of beneficence fail of its 
 effect upon those to whom Christ is the chief among ten 
 thousand, and altogether lovely? Can we breathe the 
 same moral atmosphere that our Saviour did — drink into 
 
 ♦ Young. 
 
FOUND IN THE SACRIFICE OF CHRIST. 199 
 
 the fountain of his love — feel the gracious gales of heaven 
 wafting us from earth — and make Him who died for us and 
 rose again, the model of our devotion — while at the sanne 
 time we are scraping up money with both hands, and 
 holding to it with a death-hke grasp, in defiance of those 
 miseries which it might help us to relieve ? Alas, 
 what can be more unlike than such a Christian to such a 
 Saviour 1 
 
 When we turn to the cross, we find it written in 
 burnished gold before our eyes, ye are not your own ; for 
 ye are bought with a price ; therefore glorify God in 
 your body, and in your spirit, which are God's*. Bought 
 from retributive justice, from the violated law, and the 
 pains of the second death, by an offering great as heaven 
 could bestow, what deduction could be more reasonable, 
 than that with our bodies, their health, vigor, means of 
 sustenance, and all that pertains to them, as well as with 
 our intellectual and moral faculties, we ought to glorify 
 Him by whom the purchase was made 1 And indeed, the 
 scriptures speak of the Christian profession as virtually 
 containing a vow of supreme consecration to God. For 
 none of us liveth unto himself, and no man dieth unto 
 himself. For whether we live, we live unto the Lord ; 
 and whether we die we die unto the Lord — whether we 
 live therefore or die we are the Lord's.f "That is, none 
 of us who behaves as a Christian," or who acts upon the 
 vows of his profession, " can live only for his own pleasure, 
 or to obey his own inclinations. Hence, the aposLle con- 
 
 * 1 Cor. xix. 20. Rom. xiv. 7—8. 
 
200 CHARITY ARISING FROM THE FIRST IMPULSES OF FAITH» 
 
 eludes, that those who made distinctions between food, 
 and those who did not, aimed to honor God, from this, 
 that they both ahke stood pledged to be entirely devoted 
 to his service and glory. Whether in a state of life or 
 death, we belong to the Lord, and are bound to glorify 
 him. The supremacy of Christ, and his absolute proper- 
 ty in all Christians, is fully asserted in this passage."* 
 But can these professions of supreme consecration avail 
 any thing to one who keeps back a part of the price? 
 What is the chaff to the wheat saith the Lord ? 
 
 The force of this obligation to be wholly devoted to 
 God, in body, soul, and spirit, is among the first that is 
 felt by one who is renewed by divine grace. He takes 
 pleasure in esteeming himself and all he has as belonging 
 to God. What shall 1 render unto the Lord, for all his 
 benefits? is the first effusion of his heart, and his sponta- 
 neous feelings duly followed up could not fail of impelling 
 him to a liberal and systematic sacrifice of property for 
 the good of mankind. Nothing, therefore, but influences 
 unfriendly to the Christian character could turn such 
 multitudes aside from the first impulses of their faith. 
 Consecration such as the Bible teaches, such as the first 
 Christians displayed, legitimately followed up, would place 
 in the hands of the Church all the physical means of re- 
 generation to this world. Let the course which the first 
 Christians pursued in giving up all, so that none of them 
 said that aught of the things which he possessed were his 
 own, become general, and what might not be done ? The 
 
 * Stuart on this passage. 
 
EFFECTS OF CONSECRATION IN THE FIRST CHURCH. 201 
 
 amount of missionary labor in the first age of Christianity, 
 Iq comparison with the physical means of sustaining it, 
 was great beyond all parallel. And it was owing to the 
 hold which the doctrine of consecration had taken upon 
 the spirit and conduct of the Church in that age. It 
 burned in their bosoms, it animated their toils, it prompted 
 their sacrifices, and called into the service of Him from 
 whose example they learned the doctrine, all their corpo- 
 real and moral energies. Under the same calculating 
 penurious policy which now freezes tlie vitals of the 
 Church, imperial Rome might have remained for ages 
 unblessed with religious light, and Europe, up to this day, 
 might have been overrun with barbarism. The spirit of 
 consecration which animated the foun ders of Christianity, 
 now extant in the Church, with all her wealth, talents, 
 and influence; and with the facilities for doing good 
 which the progress in art and science has thrown in her 
 way, could not fail to achieve rapid and brilliant victories 
 for the truth in the earth. Did every professor of re- 
 ligion labor for money, cultivate his mind, form his plans 
 of life, select his associates, prosecute his business, and 
 direct all his energies on the principles of his avowed 
 consecration to God, who can calculate the extent of good 
 that would immediately follow ? Millions of property now 
 wasted upon dissipation and folly, or hoarded up to the 
 injury of its owners, would be diffused like gentle rain, in 
 works of beneficence, to beautify and bless the family of 
 man. Not only so, it would bring a harvest of the most 
 refined and exalted enjoyments to the donors, and thus, by 
 watering others they would be themselves watered in 
 their turn. 
 
CHAPTER Xlir 
 
 Vanity and danger of a passion for wealth. 
 
 The tendency of the doctrine of entire consecration 
 to produce liberality, acquires additional strength fronfi the 
 view which the Scriptures give of its opposite — an undue 
 passion for wealth. They teach us to regard this passion 
 as a fruitful source of disappointment, vexation, and 
 crime. Thus, while on the one hand, they require us to 
 write holiness unto the Lord upon our possessions ; they 
 show us on the other, that by neglecting to do so, in order 
 to write upon them consecration to ourselves and our 
 children, we shall convert them into the means of our 
 own destruction. A waterfall confined within proper 
 limits may be made to subserve the most beneficial pur- 
 poses ; but if allowed to overleap its boundaries, it will 
 carry wasting and destruction before it. Thus, a talent 
 to acquire wealth, rightly directed and duly controlled by 
 the higher considerations of duty to God and beneficence 
 to man, may be ranked among the gracious gifts of Hea- 
 ven ; but when it has once demolished its appropriate re- 
 straints, and careers onward under the lawless impulses 
 
204 PASSION FOR WEALTH DENOUNCED. 
 
 of passion and cupidity, present ruin and future wo follow 
 in its train. 
 
 Such are the views which the scriptures give of this 
 subject. Hence, those passages which denoulice the love 
 of riches, and the abuse of a talent for acquiring them, 
 by employing it wholly upon selfish ends, may be ad- 
 duced as a defence, indirect indeed, but still cogent of the 
 duty in question. It was the lawless exercise of this ta- 
 lent under the influence of unrestrained cupidity, that 
 called forth the following bold denunciation from an in- 
 spired pen. Go to now, ye rich men, weep and howl for 
 your miseries that shall come upon you. Your riches are 
 corrupted, and your garments are moth-eaten. Your 
 gold and silver is cankered ; and the rust of them shall 
 be a witness against you, and shall eat your flesh as it 
 were fire. Ye have heaped treasure together for the last 
 day. Behold, the hire of the laborers who have reaped 
 down your fields which is of you kept back by fraud 
 crieth ; and the cries of th'^m, which have reaped, are 
 entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. Ye have 
 lived in pleasure on the earth, and been wanton. Ye 
 have nourished your hearts as in a day of slaughter.* 
 
 This appeal contains a graphic drawing of the dismal 
 channels, which a passion for wealth opens for itself, when 
 it breaks through the salutary restraints of reason, virtue, 
 nnd religion. It begins by " heaping up treasure," instead 
 of employing it in advancing commerce, manufacture, and 
 other important interests of human life. All that is un- 
 
 * James, v. 1—6. 
 
BIREFDL EFFECTS OF HEAPING UP. 205 
 
 aecessarily take out of the market, to gratify a love of 
 hoarding, or the pride of possessing, is for the tinie being 
 as effuctually lost to the world, as if it were consumed 
 by fire, or sunk in the ocean. 
 
 And ' to be just to these poor men of pelf, 
 Each does but hate his neighbor as himself ; 
 Damn'd to the mines, an equal late betides 
 The slave that digs it, and the slave that hides.'* 
 
 But the passion, when it becomes thus lawless, does 
 oot content itself with the passive offence of " heaping up,'* 
 but rushes upon fraudulent measures of acquiring. The 
 fruit of others' toils are seized without compensation, 
 either by "keeping back the wages of workmen," or by still 
 more adroit means of amassing to oneself what rightfully 
 belongs to another. They that will be rich fall into 
 temptation, and a snare, and into many foolish, and hurt- 
 ful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition. 
 For the love of money is the root of all evil ; which, 
 while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, 
 and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. f A 
 large portion of the crimes which disgrace human nature, 
 destroy the security of person, property and character, 
 and fill the world with mourning and wo, may be traced 
 to an overgrown and exorbitant passion for the goods of 
 this world. Like the ship which is allowed to drive be- 
 fore the storm, those who yield themselves the willing 
 victims of this passion are sure to break upon the rocks 
 of infamy and ruin. 
 
 Another channel through which the love of money is 
 
 * Pope. t 1 Tim. vi. 9, 10. 
 
 18 
 
206 LAST SCENE OF THE DISMAL DRAMA. 
 
 represented in the passage quoted, as creating vent for it* 
 self, is that of " wantonness and pleasure." Even the goods 
 which it does not pervert and neutralize by heaping them 
 up, where they can be of no use to any one, it often more 
 than wastes, by laying them out upon forbidden gratifica- 
 tions. They go to feed the fires of lust, to purchase the 
 trappings of pride, to gratify a licentious intellectual appe- 
 tite, or to give impetus to a career of reckless ambition. 
 Rolling in pleasure, and faring sumptuously every day, 
 the victims of gold and its snares, become a grovelling 
 swinish brood, wallowing in the filthiness of vice, and 
 steeled against the ordinary sympathies of our nature^ 
 
 In place of the refined enjoyments which result from 
 our social sympathies, from intellectual exercise, from 
 moral excellence, and from walking with God, all of 
 which we corrupt or destroy by yielding ourselves to a 
 passion for wealth, how poor and despicable are the re- 
 turns which we meet ? The glitter of equipage, the fe- 
 verish pleasures of voluptuousness, or the ennui of lux- 
 urious ease, is all that we have to show for our loss 
 of peace with ourselves, dignity with man, and higher 
 hopes of a future life ! 
 
 But worldlings do not stop here — they rush upon the 
 last scene of this dismal drama, that of living exclusively 
 for their own gratification. " They nourish their hearts 
 as in a day of slaughter.'* They feed and fatten them- 
 selves as a butcher the beast which he is preparing for a 
 rare occasion, till they are fully prepared for the slaugh- 
 fer. All their wealth goes to themselves, as much as if 
 there were no others in the universe to share in its bene. 
 
WEALTH NEUTRALIZED. 207 
 
 ^ts. Indeed, it is often expended upon what they are 
 incapable of enjoying ; and thus, if 
 
 *"Tis strange, (he miser should his cares employ 
 To gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy; 
 'Tis stranger still the prodigal should waste 
 His wealth, to purchase what he ne'er can taste."* 
 
 Having thus noticed the various methods by which an 
 anordinate love of wealth vents itself, as described in the 
 passage quoted from James, it may be well to look at the 
 desolating consequences which are thrown together in the 
 same passage. 
 
 The first is, the loss of power in wealth itself to confer 
 any good upon those by whom it is thus abused. " Your 
 riches are corrupted, and your garments are moth-eaten," 
 alluding to the tendency of grain and fruit when piled 
 together to heat and spoil, and of garments packed in 
 wardrobes to be destroyed by moths. Vegetable produce 
 and garments thus injured, could of course possess no 
 value to any one. In like manner, the effect of a miserly 
 disposition, by leading us to place our riches where they 
 can be of no use to any one, is to annihilate their value to 
 ourselves. Like the simoon, it blights what it touches. 
 
 But wealth, under such treatment, not only loses its 
 value, but is converted into an instrument of the keenest 
 torture. It cankers, and " the rust of it shall be a witness 
 against us, eating our flesh as it were fire." The diminished 
 lustre of our coin is evidence that we have not had it in 
 use ; and thus, it betrays our hoarding propensity. And 
 
 * Pope. 
 
208 Solomon's experience of the vanity of riches^ 
 
 the means which have tarnished its lustre, will, in the end, 
 eat our flesh as a gangrene, and be a burning plague in 
 our blood, awakening in us the anguish of undying re- 
 morse. The extremes of luxury, consequent upon wealth, 
 not unfrequently breed the most loathsome diseases, inso- 
 much that the flesh is literally consumed as with fire. 
 
 And finally, all these " shall be a witness against you," 
 in your final process of trial. You will be like a pam- 
 pered beast on the day of slaughter, the very means by 
 which you had fattened, rendering you meet to be taken 
 and destroyed. Your rapine and injustice, yea, even your 
 indifference to the woes of the unfortunate will raise 
 agairst you, in the final judgment, the cry of the poor 
 and oppressed, a cry which is alway eloquent in the cars 
 of the Judge. Thus, while you might have secured a 
 treasure in heaven, and purchased the privilege of being 
 welcomed by the pious poor into everlasting habitations, 
 you have so expended your money, as to treasure up 
 wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of the 
 righteous judgment of God. 
 
 Solomon's experience of the futility of wealth, than 
 whom no man ever had a better opportunity of testing its 
 real value, stands as an everlasting admonition against set- 
 ting our hearts upon it. I gathered me silver and gold, 
 and the peculiar treasure of kings and of the provinces. 
 And whatsoever mine eyes desired, I kept not from them. 
 I withheld not my heart from any joy — for my heart 
 rejoiced in all my labor. Then I looked on all the works 
 that my hands had wrought, and on the labor that I had 
 labored to do — and behold, all was vanity and vexation of 
 
HIS DECLINING YEARS BETRAYED INTO SIN. 209 
 
 spirit, and there was no profit under the sun. Yea, I 
 haled all my labor which I had taken under the sun, be- 
 cause I should leave it unto the man that shall be after 
 me. And who knoweth whether he shall be a wise man 
 or a fool ; yet shall he have rule over all my labor' 
 wherein I have labored, and wherein I have shown myself 
 wise under the sun.* But the unhappy result of thus 
 giving himself to every joy that riches could purchase, 
 was not confined to the bosom of this sapient monarch ; 
 for his declining years were betrayed, by means of it, into 
 the most disgusting idolatry. From his unrivalled emi- 
 nence in wisdom, he was plunged into the degrading sin 
 of bowing down to Chemosh, Moloch, and the other gods 
 of the wives whom he had impiously married. Not only 
 so ; the enormous expenses of his harem, and other instru- 
 ments of pleasure, were sustained by means of exactions 
 upon his people so oppressive that they could not bear the 
 burden ; and hence, because his successor in the throne 
 would give no pledge of lightening it, the fairest portion 
 of his kingdom dissolved the tie that bound them to David's 
 house, and established a rival power. This dissevering 
 of the kingdom was ordered of the Lord as a punishment 
 of Solomon's earthliness, and the sins into which it betray- 
 ed him. Had he been more moderate in his pleasures, 
 he would have had less need of wealth, and so, would not 
 have driven a frantic people into a rebellion from which 
 they never recovered, but which, by separating them from 
 the instituted seat of the true religion, betrayed them into 
 
 * Eccl. 2. 
 
 18* 
 
210 LOVE OF RICHES RENDERS ALL A WRECK. 
 
 sins that brought over them the wave of final extinction. 
 What a world of iniquity and wrath may follow in the 
 train of one man's sin ! 
 
 Yea, more than this, had Solomon been rocked less m 
 the cradle of luxury and splendor, he would perhaps hare 
 escaped the guilt of violating the civil constitution under 
 which he was bound to govern his kingdom, by taking 
 strange wives, and thus, would have secured his name 
 against the infamy with which it has come down to pos- 
 terity. Alas, no virtue, no wisdom, no previous inter- 
 course with God, no pious ancestry, nor consecrated 
 hopes of future good, can withstand the inebriating influ- 
 ence of ample treasures hoarded, or expended upon 
 worldly bliss and glory. The heart that feels the suction 
 of this whirlpool, is quite sure to be drawn down and 
 wrecked. How hardly shall they that have riches enter 
 into the kingdom of heaven ! The fate of Solomon speaks 
 our danger, at the same time that his language declares 
 the utter futility of wealth to those who seek their happi- 
 ness from it. Vanity and vexation of spirit attend the 
 possession, and doubt lowers in the brow of the future, 
 whether it fall to a wise man or a fool. Surely, there- 
 fore, he who lives to enjoy so gaudy a toy, walketh in a 
 vain show ; surely he is disquieted in vain ; he heapeth 
 up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them.* He 
 that, urged forward by the impetuosity of desire, hasteth 
 to be rich, never fails, sooner or later, to have an evil 
 eye, so corrupting is the effect ; but alas, he considereth 
 not that poverty shall come upon him.f The means of 
 
 ♦ Ps. xxxix. 6. + Prov. xxviii. 22. 
 
THE RICH FOOL. 211 
 
 acquiring being wrong, the possession, while it lasts, will 
 be connected with remorse, and will terminate in a poverty 
 infinitely more to be dreaded, than that from which the 
 deluded pursuer at first emerged. 
 
 Let the solemn admonition of our Saviour, to take 
 heed and beware of covetousness, and the still more 
 solemn parable by which he enforced it, restrain our inor- 
 dinate love of money, and lead us to do what good we can 
 with it while it is at our command. The ground of a cer- 
 tain rich man brought forth plentifully ; and he thought 
 within himself, saying. What shall I do, because I have 
 no room where to bestow my fruits ? You observe, he 
 thought only of hoarding them, and did not allow himself 
 to reflect, that they were put into his hands as a steward, 
 to be disposed of according to the bidding of the Supreme 
 Lord, and for the greatest advantage of his creatures. His 
 only inquiry was, how he should lay them out upon him- 
 self by making provision for future use. His suspense 
 did not long continue before his mind was made up — but 
 alas, made up to his infinite cost ! This will I do ; I will 
 pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I 
 bestow all my fruits and my goods. And I will say to my 
 soul, Soul, thou hast goods laid up for many years ; take 
 thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry. Thus, he had not 
 a thought beyond making the gifts of God minister to his 
 own I usts. The suffering condition of millions never came 
 into his mind. Hence, he was fully ripe for the awful 
 result. But God said unto him. Thou fool ! this night 
 shall thy soul be required of thee ; then whose shall those 
 things be, which thou has provided. So is he, that is, 
 
212 HIS MANNER OF ACQUIRING UNEXCEPTIONABLE. 
 
 (awful truth!) such shall be the fate of every one who 
 layeth up treasure for himself , and is not rich towards 
 God* It is remarkable that the case here adduced by 
 our Saviour is one, which is free from all imputation of 
 guilt in reg ird to the mode of acquiring. The supera- 
 bundance of this man resulted from the unusual produc- 
 tiveness of the soil, a thing which was purely providen- 
 tial, and did not imply even so much as an inordinate 
 desire for wealth ; much less any improper measures to 
 obtain it. And then, what source of riches can be more 
 innocent than that of cultivating and gathering the fruits 
 of the earth. Hence, the whole weight of this awful 
 admonition falls upon the manner of using what was inno- 
 cently acquired, and has respect to the guilt of hoarding- 
 cur riches to gratify our earthly propensities, when they 
 ought to be scattered all abroad upon works of mercy 
 and good will. Hence, while the Scriptures inculcate, on 
 the one hand, the doctrine of supreme and universal con- 
 secration to God, they warn us, on the other, against set- 
 ting our hearts upon the goods of this world. The two 
 united operate, like the powers of attraction and repulsion^ 
 to give a beneficent direction to the use of our worldly 
 resources. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. 
 
 * Luke xii. 15-21. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The progress of true religion, as traced in the Scriptures, is con- 
 nected with a Uke progression in the sacrifice of money upon its 
 objects. 
 
 Religion is expansive in its nature, acting upon the 
 texture of the soul much like heat upon a material ele- 
 ment. Under its influence the heart enlarges, the spirits 
 glow, the congenial emotions kindle, and the sympathies, 
 like the tendrils of an expanding vine, cling to whatever 
 concerns the happiness of sentient beings. It sublimates 
 the elements of our nature, so that they mount aloft and 
 become diffused over the whole area of human interests, 
 falling like dew-drops to fertilize, and bless, and beautify 
 the world. Nor is it possible for the mind to feel those 
 spiritual impulses which bring it near to God, without 
 giving being to a train of visible actings, that shall corres- 
 pond to the holy energy which is working within. What 
 is religion but the fires of the divinity in the soul — what 
 but the love of God shed abroad in the heart by the Holy 
 Ghost 1 It begins by an aspiration after likeness to God 
 glowing as the fires of the golden altar. 
 
214 PIOUS AMBITION TO BE LIKE GOD. 
 
 And as the methods in which those who feel it can 
 imitate God are few, how anxious are they to improve 
 these to the utmost extent ? The justice of God to all, 
 they are ambitious to copy by being just as far as their 
 facuhies and relations extend. After his undeviating 
 truth they aspire, by speaking the truth every man with 
 his neighbor. And his diffusive benevolence to all in 
 causing his sun to shine on the evil and the good, and his 
 rain to fall on the just and the unjust, they rejoice in 
 being able to exercise within the sphere of their influence. 
 Hence, they lay plans for mitigating the woes of the un- 
 fortunate, for drying the tears of sorrow and assuaging 
 the tide of grief, for giving food to the hungry, health to 
 the sick, clothing to the naked, instruction to the ignorant, 
 and salvation to the lost. It is thus that the genial 
 warmth of heaven dissolves the frozen elements of our 
 nature, causing them to flow out in acts of mercy and 
 beneficence. What else therefore could be expected 
 from religion of such a nature, but that its increase should 
 be connected with an increase of gratuitous expenditure 
 upon the cause of God, and the interests of mankind ? 
 
 Not only so, but the ritual exterior which God has 
 provided for religion, or the forms under which he has 
 designed it to exist, have been such in every dispensation, 
 as to require pecuniary sacrifice. And he has obviously 
 made the consumption of property as necessary to its 
 subsistence, as to the preservation of animal life. 
 
 Even the earliest generations of men understood this 
 peculiarity. When the first two sons of the first man 
 were about to make an offering unto God, they chose 
 
ORIGIN OF PECUNIARY OFFERINGS. 215 
 
 each that in which his property consisted.* Cain, being 
 a husbandman, brought of the fruit of the ground, and 
 Abel, a shepherd, brought of the firsthngs of the flock. 
 How they should have learned that God requires material 
 gifts, we are not informed. There seems to be nothing 
 in nature to suggest the idea. Since God is a spirit, free 
 from our necessity of vegetable or animal nourishment, 
 whence came the idea which began so early, and has 
 diffused itself so widely, that such offerings would be ac- 
 ceptable to him ? Though nature teaches the duty of 
 beneficence to man, to whom our goodness may extend, 
 it can hardly be quoted as authority for offering material 
 gifts to Him, who is above being benefited by any thing 
 we can do. Perhaps the slaughter of those beasts which 
 supplied the first pair with clothing, was connected with 
 such rites as imposed on them the duty of repeating them. 
 How should Cain's offering have been discountenanced, 
 had it not resulted from the triumph of convenience over 
 an explicit command, a triumph which has but too often 
 been witnessed in the progress of ages ? As his pos- ' 
 sessions consisted in vegetable produce, what more natu- 
 ral than that his faithless heart should have betrayed him 
 into the sacrifice of that, at the same time that he knew 
 the spotless lamb to be the instituted type of Him, who 
 should bruise the serpents head ? The origin of the duty, 
 however, of presenting material ofTerings to God, is not 
 important, since we know that they were accepted, and 
 anally required by express precept. 
 
 * Gen. iv. 3—4. 
 
216 EXTRAORDINARY CALLS NOAH. 
 
 In addition to the expense demanded for the estabh'sh* 
 ed rites of religion, were the extraordinary calls for 
 pecuniary sacrifice which were naade on rare occasions. 
 Such was the command to build the ark. The ex- 
 pense in property and labor incurred by Noah in rearing 
 that enormous structure, was the direct fruit of a religious 
 impulse, not less than the sacrifice of Abel. His only 
 reason for building it, was the confidence he reposed in 
 the actual occurrence of the predicted deluge. The 
 prescience of Noah was not founded in any natural indi- 
 cations of such an approaching convulsion of the ele- 
 ments ; but was the fruit of express revelation. So great 
 however was his faith in God, that he expended all, and 
 exhausted the labor of a hundred years, in preparing for 
 a crisis, which, he and his family were the only persons 
 living that believed would occur to make it necessary. 
 Hence, Noah's ark was the fruit of a religious impulse — 
 it was an offering made in obedience to a divine call. 
 
 But it is not duly appreciated at this remote distance 
 •of time. Suppose, reader, God had revealed to us in his 
 written word his intention of destroying the world by 
 another deluge in the fiftieth year of the present century, — 
 that there was but one man and his family on earth who 
 had the least confidence in the prediction — that his faith 
 however should be so strong as to withstand the tide of 
 universal opinion in expending all he had in preparing 
 for the crisis ; — if such a scene were actually passing be- 
 fore us we might have some idea of Noah's extraordinary 
 faith. To have withstood for a hundred years the in- 
 difference, and even scornful opposition of the whole 
 
EXTRAORDINARY CALLS — NOAH. 217 
 
 world, to an object in which he had staked character, 
 wealth, and all, must have required a depth of religious 
 feeling, a strength of confidence in God, and a sublimity 
 of moral courage, of which we have little conception. 
 Many of us consider the man a visionary, who expends a 
 few thousand dollars upon the missionary enterprise, 
 where, in fact, his reason for thinking that God requires it, 
 may be even less equivocal, than that on which the faith 
 of Noah was built ! 
 
 I am aware, however, that these early instances of 
 pecuniary sacrifice to religion, lose their force on us, by 
 reason of a prevailing impression, that the nature of God's 
 communications to the patriarchs, was such, as to pre- 
 clude the possibility of scepticism. But if this were the 
 fact, why were they not more generally confided in ? How 
 could Noah have evidence of such a future event, which 
 baffled in him, every supposable tendency to infidelity, 
 when, at the same time, he was unable to represent that 
 evidence, so as to produce a single convert beyond his 
 own family ? The most extraordinary feature in the his- 
 tory of this patriarch, was the entire surrender of himself 
 on the strength of testimony that failed of producing the 
 least conviction beyond his own fireside. And thus it was 
 esteemed by one whose view of the subject deserves con- 
 fidence. By faith, Noah, being warned of God, of things 
 not seen as yet, moved with fear, prepared an ark for the 
 saving of his house ; by which he condemned the world, 
 and became heir of the righteousness which is by faith.''" 
 In this passage, the faith of Noah is held up to admiration, 
 * Heb. xi. 7. 
 19 
 
218 EXTRAORDINARY CALLS NOAH. 
 
 and not the extraordinary nature of the evidence on which 
 it was founded. But with how Kttle reason the apostle 
 did this, if that evidence was such as to annihilate the pos- 
 sibility of doubt, or if all that was extraordinary in the 
 case, lies in the evidence, and not in the faith, every one 
 must see. 
 
 Indeed, it was impossible for language or miracle to 
 render the deluge any more certain before it occurred^ 
 than it now is, that God designs to make his gospel uni- 
 versally triumphant in the earth, by means of the labors 
 and sacrifices of the church. Did God acquaint Noah 
 with his purpose of destroying the world by water? So,. 
 he has acquainted us with his intention of giving the great* 
 ness of the kingdom under the whole heaven to the peo- 
 ple of the saints of the Most High God. Did he make 
 known the necessity of labor and sacrifice in preparing 
 for the deluge ? So, he has taught us that men cannot 
 believe without a preacher, nor preachers preach except 
 they be sent. Did he teach the antediluvians that no sal- 
 vation could be had out of the ark ? So, he now pro- 
 claims in the ears of the world that there can be no salva- 
 tion without faith in Christ. Yet, the great body of the 
 nations find means of rejecting the latter testimony, just as 
 they did the former. Into neither, is the power of produ- 
 cing irresistible belief incorporated. And though God 
 has evidently made the necessity of pecuniary sacrifice on 
 the strength of religious faith and hope, as great in our 
 case as in that of Noah, yet, (tell it not in Gath !) there 
 are thousands even in the church who seem as uncon- 
 scious of any such necessity, as the inhabitants of the old 
 
RATE OF SACRIFICE PATRIARCHAL A3E. 219 
 
 world were of their need of an ark ! The enormous 
 expense and labor, therefore, which Noah laid out upon 
 that structure, was the fruit of a faith that operated under 
 all the disadvantages which ours has to encounter; and 
 hence, his example shows, that whenever true religion 
 becomes ascendant in the sou], it will draw every earthly 
 interest in its train, and convert even money into sweet 
 incense to feed the fire of its altars. 
 
 But we have no mention of devoting to God a certain 
 proportion of that in which a man's property consists, till 
 the time of Abraham. As religion, in the person of this 
 patriarch, appears to have attained an unwonted degree 
 of influence over the human character, so liberality en- 
 joyed a proportionate increase. To Melchizedek, as 
 priest of the Most High God, he gave a tenth of the spoils 
 when he returned from the slaughter of the kings.* In 
 like manner, Jacob pledged himself by oath to devote to 
 God a similar proportion of the property conferred upon 
 him. This was done at his first meeting with God on 
 his way to Padan-aram. While sleeping, God appeared 
 in a dream, and confirmed to him the promise mads to his 
 fathers. And when Jacob awoke, such a divine awe 
 tempered with sweetness, came over him, that he ex- 
 claimed, Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it 
 not. And he was afraid, and said. How dreadful is this 
 place ! this is none other but the house of God, and this 
 is the gate of heaven. And Jacob vowed a vow, saying, 
 If God will be with me, and will keep me in this way 
 that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and raiment to 
 ♦ Gen. xiv. 19, 20. 
 
220 THE MOSAIC LAW. 
 
 put on, so that I come again to my father's house in peace, 
 then shall thef Lord be my God — and of all that thou slialt 
 give me, I will surely give the tenth unto thee.'*' This was 
 a consecrated moment in the history of man — a memora- 
 ble era in the annals of piety ! On that eventful night, 
 as this young man, an outcast from the home of his 
 parents, was sleeping in a solitary place, with the heavens 
 for his canopy, and a rock for his pillow, he received an 
 impulse that acted upon him with unabated force through 
 life, and descended to his posterity, contributing to bestow 
 on them their subsequent religious preeminence. Yea, 
 that was the starting point of an influence which on earth 
 is as wide-spread as revealed religion, and which at this 
 moment thrills through all the ranks of glorified saints in 
 heaven, with unutterable joy and praise. Behold, reader, 
 the immediate fruit of that contact of earth with heaven ! 
 It was no other than a vow to sacrifice a certain rate in 
 property — a vow, too, that served to establish a principle, 
 which was afterwards incorporated into the only civil code 
 that God ever gave to man. For it was enacted in the 
 law of Moses, that, All the tithe of the land, whether of 
 the seed of the land, or the fruit of the tree, should be holy 
 unto the Lord. And of the tithe of the herd, or of the 
 flocks, even of whatsoever passeth under the rod, the tenth 
 shall he holy unto the Lord.-\ Thus, it became a standing 
 ordinance among the Jews, that a tenth of the proceeds 
 of their industry, should be given up to religious purposes. 
 Before this, as religion itself existed only in detached 
 
 ♦ Gen. xxviii. 16—22. t Lev. xxvii, 30—32. 
 
THE MOSAIC LAW. 221 
 
 cases, and as there was no visible connection between 
 those who harbored the celestial stranger, so, pecuniary- 
 offerings had been the isolated outbreakings of overflow- 
 ing love and gratittfde, rather than the result of any 
 organized system of conduct. But, no sooner did brighter 
 periods in its history begin to dawn, than it embodied 
 itself under set forms, and established the principle which 
 should direct its votaries, in regard to the proportion of 
 their treasure to be bestowed upon its objects. From 
 this, it may be seen, that as religion itself rises and 
 expands among the moral elements of this world, so do 
 sacrifices in money for its advancement. The two keep 
 pace with each other. 
 
 Look also at the next signal stage in the march of this 
 heaven-born influence, as it appears from the giving of 
 the law at Mount Sinai ; and the result in reference to 
 the expenditure of money, will be found the same. At 
 the call of Moses upon the people for voluntary contri- 
 butions, they came every one whose heart stirrei him up, 
 and every one whom his spirit made willing, and they 
 brought the Lord's offerings to the work of the tabernacle 
 of the congregation, for all his service, for the holy gar- 
 ments, and for all manner of work which the Lord had 
 commanded to be made by the hand of Moses.* Touched 
 by celestial influences, the people, even in the vagrant 
 unsettled state they were then in, exercised a liberality 
 so princely and profuse, that their contributions exceeded' 
 the demand for the costly works which Moses was order- 
 
 * Exod. x.zx\. 5—21—29. 
 19* 
 
222 REIGN OF DAVID AND SOLOMON. 
 
 ed to prepare ; and hence, he caused it to be proclaimed 
 throughout the camp, saying, Let neither man nor wo- 
 man make any more work for the offering of the sanc- 
 tuary. So the people were restrained from bringing.** 
 The foot of Sinai, when God was thundering frotn its 
 awful summit and proclaiming his law in the ears of tho 
 world, was no place for niggard avarice to hoard his gold, 
 or sordid selfishness to remain coiled in the shell of its 
 own little interests. The world, its honor, pleasure, and 
 affluence, from such a point of observation, would appear 
 in all its emptiness, and the heart would glow to make 
 what of it, it possessed, subservient to Him who filled the 
 eye, the ear, and the soul ! Oh ! the presence of God is 
 no place for frigid emotions and sordid plans of life ! 
 Could even the miser come there, his rigid nerves would 
 relax, and his unclenched hands would scatter their 
 golden contents all abroad on works of devotion and 
 good will. 
 
 Passing over minor cases, let your thoughts be direc- 
 ted next to the revival of religion under David and Solo- 
 mon. The eighty years covered by these two reigns 
 were the golden age of the ritual economy. It never be* 
 fore, and never after, reached an elevation so command- 
 ing, so illuvstrious. * There is good reason to believe, that 
 for diflTused enjoyment and personal liberty, for elevation 
 of sentiment, and purity of manners, no contemporary 
 nation could offer such a specimen of popular felicity,' 
 as then existed in the Holy Land. ' Considered in their 
 
 ♦ Exod. XXX vi. 6. 
 
EEIGN OF DAVID AND SOLOMON. 2-23 
 
 secular aspect, the characteristic principle of the Mosaic 
 institutions was the private good of the people. What- 
 ever the forms of the polity might be, the spirit of it was, 
 in the best sense, popular ; since the security, the 
 tiompetence, the personal dignity, and the enjoyments 
 of every son of Abraham, was the intention of every 
 enactment. Redeemed from the furnace of Egypt, and 
 led into a land flowing with milk and honey, the economy 
 of social life was so constructed, as to yield the greatest 
 possible amount of plenty and pleasure to every citizen. 
 Every man who had sprung from the loins of Abraham 
 v/as noble ; and the forfeiture of that patrimony which 
 enabled him to support the simple honors of his birth was 
 a desperate calamity, guarded against by extraordinary 
 provisions. The motto of the community was " Every 
 oian under his vine and under his fig-tree ; none daring 
 to make him afraid." Go eat the fat of the land, to make 
 his heart merry with wine, and to render praise to God, 
 duty to the priest, and a generous portion to the father- 
 less, the widow, and the stranger, was the precept and 
 the privilege of all.'* Under the two first kings of the 
 dynasty that finally proved permanent, the privileges of 
 this beneficent polity were enjoyed in their highest perfec- 
 tion, and diffused over their widest extent of surface. 
 David, a man after God's own heart, while yet the keeper 
 of his father's sheep among the glens of Bethlehem, be- 
 came deeply imbued with the spirit of religion ; and ever 
 after (abating one or two triumphs of our common depra- 
 vity, which, however, were followed by a repentance that 
 * Spiritual Despotism. 
 
224 THE TEMPLE. 
 
 rendered his piety even more unquestionable than before,) 
 threw his whole soul and the enormous influence which 
 his unrivalled career gave him, into the work of consoli- 
 dating and extending the Heaven- inspired polity of the 
 nation. His powers of poetry and song, so soothing to 
 the perturbed nerves of abandoned Saul, so fruitful in the 
 strains of unearthly devotion filling the nation with piety 
 and pleasure, and so successful in giving body, soul, and 
 expression to the elTusions of holy men in every age, 
 were all thrown into the scale of truth, and, as much as 
 the brilliancy of his heroic deeds perhaps, facilitated the 
 triumph of religion over the public mind. And Solomon 
 at the commencement of his reign, and probably many 
 years after contributed his unrivalled wisdom, leisure 
 from war, and unbounded resources, to advance the same 
 work. The consequence was, not merely that the nation, 
 was raised to be one of the most powerful in the earth, but 
 that the true religion attained an unwonted ascendency 
 over its mhabitants. And it is remarkable that the 
 amount of treasure expended on its institutions, was in the 
 same proportion greater than at any other period in the 
 Hebrew annals, as the ascendency of religion itself was 
 greater. 
 
 The feelings of the nation, and its leader, in reference 
 to the sacrifice of wealth upon the altar of their faith, are 
 graphically depicted in some of the last acts and expres- 
 sions of David's reign. Now, I have prepared, says that 
 monarch, with all my might for the house of my God, the 
 gold, silver, brass, iron, wood, onyx stones, glistering 
 stones of diverse colors ; and all manner of precious stones 
 
THE TEMPLE. 2'25 
 
 •«nd marble in abundance. Moreover, because I have set 
 my affection to the house of my God, I have of my own 
 proper good, (from his private treasures) of gold and silver, 
 v/hich I have given to the house of God, over and above all 
 that I have prepared for the holy house, even three thou- 
 sand talents of the gold of Ophir, and seven thousand ta- 
 knts of refined silver to overlay the wall of the houses. 
 Not content with giving himself, this pious king calls on 
 his people to follow his example. Who then, he inquires, 
 is willing to consecrate his service this day unto the Lord ? 
 Then the chief of the fathers, the princes of Israel, and 
 the rulers over the king's work, offered willingly to the 
 service of the house of God, of gold five thousand draras, 
 of silver, ten thousand talents ; of brass, eighteen thou- 
 sand, and a hundred thousand talents of iron. And the]/" 
 v/ith whom precious stones were found, gave them to the 
 treasure of the house of the Lord. Nor were these 
 princely offerings presented with a grudging, constrained 
 spirit, but the people rejoiced that they offered tinllingly : 
 and David the king also rejoiced with great joy. Then 
 follows the prayer in which the king and people joined, 
 which breathes a spirit that should animate every indivi- 
 dual in presenting his offerings before the Lord. Thine^ 
 O Lord, is the greatness — power — glory — victory — ma- 
 jesty-— j^r all that is in heaven and earth is thine. Both 
 riches and honors come of thee. But who am I, and 
 what is my people, that we should be able to offer so 
 willingly ; for all this store that we have prepared, to 
 build a house for thy holy name, cometh of thy hand, and 
 is ull thine own. Thus, they explicitly disavow any 
 
226 
 
 THE TEMPLE. 
 
 claim upon God on account of what they had given, since 
 they had returned to him a part of what was all his own.* 
 These were the feelings with which offerings of the most 
 costly kind, were presented to God, in that golden period 
 of the ritual dispensation. 
 
 The erection of the temple and its subsidiary build- 
 ings, consumed sums in money and other property, too 
 immense for calculation. Perhaps no work of art, now 
 in existence, will compare for costliness and splendor, 
 with the temple of Jerusalem. Some idea may be formed 
 of it, by considering the number of workmen employed, 
 and the length of time consumed in its erection. There 
 was first made a levy of thirty thousand men to obtain 
 the crude materials from Lebanon, and eighty thousand 
 employed as hewers upon the mountains to prepare them 
 for use ; and there were besides seventy thousand engaged 
 in transporting them to their place of destination and 
 rearing them up into the structure; and these were all 
 under the conduct of three thousand three hundred offi- 
 cers, making in all one hundred eighty three thousand 
 three hundred men.f Yet, so vast was the work that this 
 numerous company were occupied upon it seven years, 
 before it was ready for dedication-! Not only so, but 
 the material itself was of the most costly kind. Almost 
 the whole structure was overlaid with gold, and its furni- 
 ture, such as the altar, the table of showbread, the ten 
 candlesticks, the lamps, the snuffers, the bowls, the flowers, 
 the tongs, the basons, the spoons, the censors, and stones, 
 
 ♦ 1 Chron. xxix. 1—16. t 1 Kings, v. 13-18. t 1 Kings, vi. 38. 
 
THE TEMPLE. 227 
 
 even the hinges of the doors, were all of beaten gold. 
 And, in addition, the immense treasures which David had 
 dedicated to the Lord as noticed above, even the silver, 
 the gold, and the vessels, were put among the consecrated 
 contents of the holy temple.* And Solomon left all the 
 vessels unweighed, because they were exceeding many ; 
 neither was the weight of the brass found out.t 
 
 It should be considered that this stupendous edifice, 
 with its unbounded profusion of the precious metals, was 
 purely a religious offering, being built by divine direction 
 as the house of prayer for all people, and as the seat 
 from which God should promulgate his decrees to the 
 world. 
 
 " Thus, such delight had God in men 
 Obedient to his will, that he vouchsaf 'd 
 Among them to set up his tabernacle, 
 The holy one with mortal men to dwell."t 
 
 Hence, the spirit of liberality in consecrating treasure to 
 God, rose with the heaven-inspired religion of the past 
 dispensation, insomuch that when the latter had attained 
 the zenith of its glory, the former stood at an elevation 
 equally remarkable, equally sublime. 
 
 In the decline also of that moonlight era of the world, 
 whenever the lustre of religion was clouded by sin and 
 idolatry, the holy temple went to decay ; the ofTerings 
 necessary to the beautiful order of its worship were with- 
 held ; its consecrated priests pined with want, and a rigid 
 selfishness froze the vitals of the nation. No sooner, 
 however, did a pious king succeed to David's throne, to 
 
 * 1 Kings, Yii, 48-51, 1 1 Kings, vii. 47. t MUton. 
 
228 SUBSEQUENT REIGNS. 
 
 redress these gn'ievances, and to shed the genial infiuerr- 
 ces of religion abroad, than the purse-strings of the nation 
 were untied, and offerings flowed amain. Such v/as the 
 fact under the pious reigns of Joash, Hezekiah, Asa, 
 Jehoshaphat, and Josiah. Encouraged by the first of 
 these naonarchs, J^hoida, the priest, took a chest, and 
 bored a hole in the lid of it, and set it beside the altar, on 
 the right side as one cometh into the house of the Lord — 
 and the priests that kept the door brought therein all the 
 money that was brought into the house of the Lord. And 
 it was so that there was much money in the chest, and it 
 was put into the hands of workmen to repair the house of 
 the Lord.* Thus, impelled by a renewed zeal in the 
 religion of their fathers, the people met with promptitude 
 the call for their contributions, which was made to repair 
 the house of the Lord. And it is no sooner said that the 
 heart of Asa was perfect all his days, than it is added, 
 that he brought into the house of the Lord the things that 
 his father had dedicated, and that he himself had dedica- 
 ted, silver, and gold, and vessels.f A like spirit also ani- 
 mated Josiah, who walked in all the ways of David, his 
 father, and turned not aside to the right hand or to the 
 lefl. And the fruits of his piety were seen iu devoting 
 large sums of money to repair the breaches in the house 
 of the Lord.:]: Thus, whenever piety presided over the 
 destinies of the nation, the doors of the house of the Lord 
 were opened and repaired ; the uncleanness which a more 
 impious age had left to collect in its sacred recess was re- 
 
 * 2 Kings'xii. 9. t 2 Chron. xy. 17, 18. t 2 Chron. xxxiii. 8—15. 
 
RETURN FROM CAPTIVITY. 239 
 
 moved; the priests sanctified themselves; the fire of 
 slaughtered victims burned upon the altars ; the songs of 
 Zion were restored ; and the ministers of religion confes- 
 sed with gratitude that, since the people began to bring 
 the offerings into the house of the Lord, we have had 
 enough to eat, and have left plenty — for the Lord hath 
 blessed his people ; and that which is left, is this great 
 store.* 
 
 We may add, also, the unparalleled sacrifices 
 which the remnant made that returned from Babylon, in 
 rearing up the demolished walls o/" Jerusalem, in rebuild- 
 ing the temple, and restoring che beautiful order of its 
 worship. The people not o«ly had a mind to give, but 
 to work, throwing all their energy and resources into the 
 project of resuscitating the dying embers of their ancient 
 faith. The result is k^own — the wall was built, though 
 in troublous times ; tte temple was restored ; the various 
 orders of priests began their courses ; the soi.gs of Zion 
 again reverberated from the neighboring hills ; and odorifer- 
 ous fires burned upon the golden altar.f Thus, through- 
 out the primary dispensation of heaven's influences to 
 man, the vigor of the voluntary principle in contributing 
 money, waxed or waned with a waxing or waning faith, 
 and the amount expended gratuitously from motives of 
 piety in any given age, may be taken as a criterion of the 
 degree of religious influence in that a^e. 
 
 Nor is this peculiarity confined to the former dispen- 
 sations, but is as prominent at the era of Christianity as 
 
 *2Chron. xxix. xxx. xxxi. t Ezra, Nthemiah. 
 
 20 
 
230 SACRIFICES OF CHRIST. 
 
 it had been before. Look at the life of Jesus. Was 
 there ever one filled up with a more untiring zeal in the 
 cause of humanity ? From what toils did he shrink in 
 doing good to the bodies and souls of men ? Though so 
 poor as not to have where to lay his head, he contrived to 
 pour out his bounty in bread for the hungry, and health 
 for the sick, ard clothing for the naked, and instruction 
 for the ignorant, and correction for the vicious, and life 
 from the dead ! His life was exhausted upon the tempo- 
 ral and immortal inteiests of mankind. In him we see no 
 division of labor between his own personal good and the 
 good of others; no plan^ of acquiring for himself; no 
 attempt to throw around hin»5elf the lustre of a name ; no 
 fQrecasting for his full shar« in the earthly advantages 
 accruing from his surpassing powers; but all was 
 bestowed undivided and unabated upon the good of the 
 human family. And to close the scene in this tragedy of 
 love, he gave, what we would give th« world to keep, his 
 life, a ransom for our sins. 
 
 "Religion ! ihou the soul of happiness, 
 And groaning Calvary, of thee ! There shine 
 The noblest truths; there strongest motives sting ; 
 There sacred violence assaults the sou. ; 
 There, nothing but compulsion is forborne. 
 Eternity too short to speak thy praise ! 
 Or fathom thy profound of lovc; to man !"* 
 
 Smit by his spirit, there were those in his time of previous 
 habits hostile to the practice of a common beneficence, or 
 even of equal justice between man and man, that poured 
 
 * Young. 
 
ZACCHEUS. 231 
 
 out their treasures like water before him. Rich and 
 chief among the publicans, whose office was the hot-bed 
 of rapine and violence, Zaccheus was the most unpromis- 
 ing subject of the expansive power of a heaven-born faith. 
 But, no sooner had its genial influences come over his 
 soul, than it was dissolved to its elements ; its rigid foun- 
 dations gave way, and he cried out, Behold, Lord, the 
 half of my goods I give to the poor ; and if I have taken 
 any thing from any man, by false accusation, I restore 
 him four-fold.* This instance is sufficient forever to con- 
 found that feint of a covetous spirit, that the Old Testa- 
 ment is no rule for us in the use of money, because we 
 are not under the law, but grace ; as if the more perfect 
 religion of the Son of God, which comes in like the splen- 
 dors of day upon the pale beams of a preceding night, 
 were less hostile to a grasping sordid propensity, than the 
 one previously revealed. Whereas, its only difference in 
 this respect is, that its tendency to produce liberality is in 
 the same proportion more energetic, as it is a more pow- 
 erful element for the government of human conduct. To 
 suppose that a man drawn up to heaven by a hand that is 
 never opened but in love and good will — a man feeling 
 the vital influence of a system of faith which has sacrifice 
 written upon it in the beginning, midst, and end, is left 
 more at liberty to indulge an exclusive spirit, than the one 
 who received the religion that blazed from Sinai's dreary 
 summit, is to break up all the principles of connection be- 
 tween cause and effect. We might as well undertake to 
 
 * Luke xix, 8. 
 
DAY OF PENTECOST. 
 
 say that the earth would vegetate best under the shining 
 of the moon and stars, rather than under the more potent 
 beams of the sun. 
 
 Look at the day of Pentecost.* Mark the effect that 
 followed. Did ever the like occur before in the annals of 
 man ? A large company of men from all parts of the 
 world ; unknown to each other ; educated under circum- 
 stances as various as the individuals themselves ; occupy- 
 ing every grade from abject poverty to plethoric abun- 
 dance ; and in rank, equally diverse — throwing their 
 wealth into a common reservoir to which all might claim 
 an equal right. This is an instance without a parallel in 
 the history of property. And, wherefore this sudden let- 
 ting go of the world ? this levelling of distinctions ? this 
 commingling of foreign hearts ? this voluntary consent to 
 a common right in property ? That the Spirit, like a 
 rushing mighty wind, came down as it never did before, 
 opening upon the world a new era in the progress of reli- 
 gion ; that they were pricked in the heart with the sword 
 of celestial truth ; and that they were thrown under 
 heaven's beam no longer aslant, but vertical, explains all. 
 It was no time for one to think himself richer tjian 
 another. As well might thoughts of this kind obtrude be- 
 fore the burning throne in heaven ; or as well might the 
 spirit of a just man made perfect, lose himself in a reverie 
 among his goods on earth. No ; the portals of the New 
 Jerusalem were thrown open, and for the time the elements 
 of an immortal existence triumphed over the cold and sor- 
 did dregs of an earthly passion. Nor were like effects 
 
 ♦ Actg ii, 
 
AGENCIES — PRIMITIVE CHURCHES. 233 
 
 confined to that tinne and place, but flew on the wings of 
 the newly begotten hope of a better resurrection ; and when- 
 ever converts were made to Christ, converts were made 
 to a system of unwonted liberality in the use of money. 
 The apostles associated agencies for the collection of 
 money with their labors to propagate the gospel ; and from 
 Jerusalem to Rome, and from Rome to Spain, the same 
 voice that proclaimed Jesus and the resurrection, called 
 for contributions to the poor, to the imprisoned, to the dis- 
 penser of spiritual good, and to other objects of benefi- 
 cence. 
 
 But the expansive influence of the gospel upon the 
 heart in the first age of the church, requires no explana- 
 tion, no eulogy. Hence, what we have gathered from 
 the progressive development of religion from the earliest 
 records of man, to its present most perfect disclosures, 
 may serve to set the point in a light clear enough to con- 
 vince the unprejudiced, that an increase in the amount of 
 pecuniary sacrifices is an inseparable consequence of 
 increased piety and devotion. As mercy is heaven's de- 
 light, mercy is religion's element — mercy, active, substan- 
 tial, and self-denying — growing with the growth, and 
 strengthening with the strength of those graces and emo^ 
 tions in which the Spirit of God baptizes the soul, 
 
 20* 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 A spirit greedy of the world is represented, not only as closing the 
 gates of life, but as an object of pecuhar maledictions. 
 
 The argument of the preceding chapter is twin to one 
 that looks another way, bringing from an opposite source 
 considerations no less potent, in establishing the principle 
 that the religion of the Bible fails of its legitimate results, 
 where no system of beneficence, and no plans of pious 
 expenditure have yet been formed, A grasping propen- 
 sity is held up in Scripture as a principal obstruction to 
 the blessings of salvation, and as an object of peculiar 
 maledictions. The cares of this world and the deceitful- 
 ness of riches are represented as choking the word, or to 
 change the figure, as quenching the embers of piety in 
 the soul. They put out faith ; they drown the con- 
 science ; they extinguish the flame of love ; they nourish 
 grovelling propensities ; they drench the pinions of hope 
 so as to disqualify them for bearing the soul upward to- 
 wards its native heaven ; they repress all the aspiring 
 energies of an immortal existence ; and thus, 
 
 " Gold glitters most, where virtue shines no more, 
 As stars from absent suns have leave to shine." 
 
 Hence, by representing the love of money as shutting 
 
236 WORLD USED, BUT NOT USED OUT. 
 
 out men from the blessings of salvation, and preventing 
 the growth of piety in the soul, the Scriptures as directly 
 inculcate the duty in question, as by all they say to show 
 that the uniform tendency of religion is, to enlarge the 
 heart, and augment the means of mercy. The object of 
 those representations cannot be to discourage industry in 
 those callings by which wealth is obtained ; for there is 
 much said in the Scriptures to enjoin it : they must, there- 
 fore, be intended to discountenance the excessive love, 
 and exclusive use, of what we obtain by our industry. 
 It is against such a use of it, that we are to understand 
 the much that is said in the Bible about the tendency of 
 riches to exclude men from the kingdom of God. 
 
 The apostle appears to have had so vivid a sense of 
 the danger to which we stand exposed from the influence 
 of this world, that he directs us to use it as not abusing, 
 or as not using it out : that is, that our worldly joys, sor- 
 rows, and gratifications, instead of being indulged up to 
 the limit of what might be lawful, should always stop 
 somewhat short, lest by approaching the extreme bound- 
 aries of right, we overstep, and thus trespass upon for- 
 bidden ground. The time is so short, and every thing 
 earthly so soon to pass away, why should we not circum- 
 scribe our attention to it within as narrow limits as possi- 
 ble ? Shall we revel through life among those earthly 
 emotions, whether of pleasure or pain, which are so 
 soon to be lost amid the wreck of other things ? It re- 
 maineth, that they that have wives be as though they had 
 none ; and they that weep, as though they wept not ; and 
 they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not ; and they 
 
FLECHIER. 237 
 
 that buy, as though they possessed not ; and they that 
 use this world, as not abusing it ; for the fashion of this 
 world passeth away.* 
 
 It has been suggested, I think, with propriety, that the 
 clause rendered in the received version, • using the world 
 as not abusing it,' " hints at a very important truth else- 
 where taught in Scripture, that men are not proprietors of 
 the world, but merely sojourners and strangers as all 
 their fathers were ; lodgers in the inn ; wayfaring men 
 who tarry for a night, and may use, but not destroy the 
 caravansary which they for a time occupy, but never 
 own, and which they must soon relinquish to the next 
 comer. They are tenants at will, and may gather the 
 fruit of the year, but not destroy it by cutting down the 
 tree, as savages do ; or to speak literally, no man is entitled 
 to use property to the neglect of the after-rights of other 
 men. He should only so use it as to leave it unimpaired 
 for their occupancy. "f Flechier in one of his Funeral 
 
 * 1 Cor. vii. 29—31. 
 
 t The following is a summary of the argument for such a 
 rendering of ol ^piojievoi rcy Koa^M rovTM, us /^^ «fara;^j9a3/i£voi, whlch, 
 on account of being too critical for general readers, is embodied 
 in this note, for the benefit of those who may have the inclina- 
 tion to examine it. "The Vulgate, and the modern European 
 versions formed from it, render Kara^x^pdJ^Lcvoi as ' using,* not as 
 * abusing.' The Arabic and the Tigurine Latin, are also quoted 
 by Pool as giving this construction ; and it is the rendering 
 adopted also by Calvin, Erasmus, Grotius, and Rosenmuller. 
 This rendering better agrees with the context where Paul is argu- 
 ing, not against evident wrong, but the entire and full use of 
 what is right. It is the only construction allowed by the con- 
 text in the other instance where this word occurs. This is 
 
238 LIMITED USE OF A EIGHT. 
 
 Orations has paraphrased this passage, which he had made 
 his text. The Christian is to use the world * wisely as a 
 means, without irregulai'ly cleaving to it as an end ; as 
 one who knows how to rejoice without dissipation, to sor- 
 row without despair, to desire without anxiety, to acquire 
 
 1 Cor. ix. 18, and is the only other case in which the word is 
 found in the New Testament. In this chapter, the apostle, after 
 showing the right of ministers to claim a support, proceeds to 
 state that for particular reasons he had used or insisted upon no 
 such right. He made his reward consist, not in being paid for 
 his services, but in preaching the gospel without charge, and so, 
 in not * using' the power or right which the gospel gave him to 
 claim a support. Hence Bioomfield declares, * that the Koraxpcifi- 
 tvoi is taken by the best commentators for x9^'^^"^h ' ^o ^^^- 
 Grotius, as quoted by Pool, refers to Plato and Lysias, to 
 show that ;;^;(963^£j/ot and KaTaxpoJfxtvoi are the same except that 
 the latter seems to have somewhat more fullness of meaning. 
 Among the meanings it bears in its use by Herodotus, Donnegan 
 gives that of * consume,' and quotes from -^schines a passage 
 where its sense is to ' dispose of This heightened sense o^ con- 
 suming or using to the full is the natural effect of the preposition 
 Kara with whicii the verb;^pw^aj is here compounded. (See Butt- 
 man's Larger Grammar, p. 413.) It conveys, according to him, 
 the idea of completion. On turning to Donnegan and contrasting 
 the simple verb, with its compounds as formed by Kara, the force 
 of this will be seen. Tkus, the verb signifying originally* to 
 wet,' becomes ' to wet thoroughly' when compounded with Kara. 
 And similarly compounded verbs signifying * to eat,' 'to sleep,' * to 
 empty,' * to drink,' become 'to eat m/?,' ' to sleep om<,' 'to empty 
 out,^ * to drink up.^ May we not, therefore, be allowed to alter here 
 our very excellent translation, by changing abuse into ' use out,' 
 or ' consume.' The context, the proper force of prepositions in 
 composition, the above named translators, and the instances cited 
 of similar classic use, may be urged in defence of this rendering.' 
 
ANANIAS AND SAPPPIIRA. 239 
 
 without injustice, to possess without pride, and to lose 
 without pain.' 
 
 Unless we practise self-denial in regard to things in 
 themselves lawful, and thus set so lightly by the world as 
 to refrain from using our right to it up to the full extent, 
 our passion for it will be apt to acquire such intensity as 
 to betray us into overt and dangerous sins. The Scrip- 
 tures furnish many cases in which devotion to this world, 
 after being for a time confined within the bare limits of 
 integrity, broke loose with fearful devastation upon both 
 the body and the soul. It was, probably, by an overscru- 
 pulous regard to a claim upon their estate which was in 
 itself just and disputed by none, that Ananias and Sap- 
 phira were betrayed into the sin of keeping back a part of 
 the price, when they professed to give up all, and so, like 
 Nadab and Abihu under a former dispensation, were 
 struck dead even under the full blaze of mercy's reign. 
 This circumstance, contrasted with the tendency of grace 
 upon its subjects to produce liberality, adds force to our 
 argument, and stands as a perpetual admonition to those 
 who in profession place all at the feet of religion, but in 
 reality keep back a part of the price. Alas ! this calcula- 
 ting policy, under pretext of saying, makes a wreck 
 of all and drowns its victims in destruction and perdi- 
 tion. 
 
 There is no character brought to view in the Bible, 
 which succeeding generations have regarded with more 
 decided and unmingled detestation, than that of Ju- 
 das. The traitor to a cause of greater glory and 
 goodness than any other, and to a friendship the most 
 
240 PURPOSES OF JUDAS. 
 
 illustrious with which mortals were ever honored, his 
 name is justly inscribed with eternal execrations. But 
 •what was the most prominent feature in this most execra- 
 ble character? It was that of urging his attention to 
 money up to the full limit of what was lawful, till, becoming 
 no longer able to endure such restraints, it broke out into 
 the most fearful forms of infamy and wo. 
 
 Judas had nothing to allege against his Master, and 
 never betrayed towards him, apart from the influence o 
 his avarice, any other than feehngs of personal affection, 
 respect, and veneration. And that he did most sincerely 
 cherish these feelings is evinced by his confession to the 
 chief priests that he had * betrayed innocent blood ;' and 
 still more by those paroxysms of remorse which hurried 
 him to a voluntary and violent death. These are not the 
 fruits of a revengeful spirit, or of knowing that an enemy 
 has fallen by our means ; but of the consciousness of 
 having wantonly violated the most tender ties of friend- 
 ship, and of having abused the most paternal and affec. 
 tionate patronage. No ; but for his exorbitant love of 
 money, however blind Judas might have been to 
 the spiritual glories of our Saviour's character, he 
 would doubtless have continued, in outward conduct, as 
 true to his Master as Peter or John. From all the cir- 
 cumstances, there is no doubt that he was disappointed at 
 the result of his treachery, having no idea when he took 
 the silver, that it would be attended by consequences so 
 fatal to his Master. From the numerous displays which 
 he had witnessed of our Saviour's transcendent powers of 
 surpassing eloquence, he had no doubt that delivering 
 
AVARICE HIS PREDOMINENT PASSION. 241 
 
 Him into the hands of his enemies, would only afford an- 
 other opportunity for the triumph of his superior good- 
 ness. It is possible, also, that he might have thought, 
 that, by doing good to the poor with the money which he 
 should thus obtain, and by future confession, he might so 
 far win upon the forgiving heart of his Master, as to be 
 again fully reinstated in his confidence. 
 
 That avarice, cloaked under some such glossy pretext, 
 was the predominant motive with Judas in betraying his 
 Master, appears — from his remarks in reference to the 
 waste made of the ointment with which the woman anointed 
 our Lord — from the question proposed to the chief priests 
 when he went to propose his traitorous services — and 
 tl[\e feelings of loathing and disgust towards the price of 
 his crime, which were awakened by his subsequent 
 remorse. 
 
 The pious desire to avoid a useless waste of the means 
 of charity, which is indicated by the question in relation 
 to the conduct of the woman. Why was not this ointment 
 sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor ? was 
 a mere feint to hide his sordid propensity. For this he 
 said, not that he cared for the poor ; but because he was a 
 thief, and had the bag, and bare what was put therein.* 
 It was, perhaps, from observing his habits of careful and 
 constant attention to money, that our Saviour made him 
 the purser of his little company. He carried the bag, 
 and was probably addicted to petty thefts from its golden 
 contents, which accounts for his being called a thief. 
 
 * John xii. 3—6. 
 21 
 
242 CAUSE OF SIN AN UNIVERSAL 
 
 These little offences, however they may have been dispo- 
 sed of by our Lord, show that the habit of his mind was 
 avaricious, acting upon every thing that approached it in 
 the shape of money like a magnet upon iron, drawing it 
 to himself, whether his or not ; and hence, they go to 
 confirm the opinion that the sole inducement for the com- 
 mission of his sealing crime, was the charm to his feelings 
 of the thirty pieces of silver. 
 
 The question also proposed to the chief priests, what 
 will ye give me, and I will betray him unto you? still fur- 
 ther establishes the same sentiment. His treachery was 
 purely a pecuniary transaction, resulting rather from a 
 desire to make money, than from any direct purpose of 
 mischief. Hence, no sooner was the price set at thirty 
 pieces of silver, than he struck the bargain, lest delay 
 should subject him to still more unfavorable terms. And 
 from that moment he waited only for an opportunity to 
 accomplish his dark design. 
 
 And what adds still further confirmation to the same 
 view, is the disgust and loathing with which he regarded 
 the thirty pieces of silver, when he began to feel the guilt 
 of his crime. His first act of repentance, after confessing 
 his fault, was to cast them down in the temple, and thus, 
 to unburden himself of an object which had involved him 
 in such deep guilt and misery. What could have produ- 
 ced this loathing of the silver, but the consciousness that, 
 it had been the principal lure to his treachery ? Who does 
 not know that the bait to criminality, always becomes to 
 ^he criminal, in the paroxysms of his remorse, an object 
 of the most abhorrent recollections ? Hence, the feelings 
 
ELEMENT OF CHARACTEK, 243 
 
 of Judas towards the thirty pieces of silver, added to the 
 other circumstances of the case, I think leave no room to 
 doubt that avarice was the predominant motive of his 
 treachery. 
 
 Thus, the purest, most perfect, and most glorious char- 
 acter that ever appeared upon this footstool, is made mer- 
 chandise of for gold, not by Judas alone, whose case was 
 but the outbreaking of a universal element of human na- 
 ture, but by all who sacrifice conscience to a desire of 
 accumulation. And, if the Son of God was made an ob- 
 ject of barter, to gratify the avarice of one of his twelve 
 personal followers, it becomes a question whether, with 
 the proportion of a twelfth of his professed followers in 
 succeeding ages, he has not shared a similar fate. Be- 
 hold how great a matter a little fire kindleth ! In what 
 a world of infamy — in what an eternity of despair — did 
 this one lawless passion of Judas involve him ! It has 
 written upon his name in characters never to be effaced, 
 
 THE TRAITOR tO God's SoN, AND MAn's ONLY FRIEND. O, 
 
 what a comment upon a spirit greedy of the world, does 
 the history of Judas present ! 
 
 Among the excuses which our Saviour sums up for 
 neglecting the gospel-supper, there is none which 
 is not intimately connected with the love of riches, or 
 directly consequent upon it. The first who was bidden 
 said, I have bought a piece of ground, and I must needs 
 go and see it ; the second, I have bought five yoke of oxen, 
 and I go to prove them ; the third, I have married a wife 
 — I must needs provide for her, and therefore I cannot 
 come. And, as he who had made the supper found that 
 
244 LOVE OF WEALTH KEEPS MEN FROM CHRIST. 
 
 there was little hope from those who were under tempta^ 
 tions of this kind, he commanded the poor, the maimed, the 
 halt, the blind, and all whose hearts were stricken with sor- 
 row, to be called, that his house might be filled with guests.* 
 And, that not many wise men after the flesh — not many- 
 mighty — not many noble — are called, is a sentiment that 
 accords with the experience of the church in every age.f 
 In relation to the young man who went away sorrow- 
 ful upon hearing the terms of entering into life, our Saviour 
 exclaims, Children, how hard is it for them that trust in 
 riches to enter into the kingdom of God.:]: It will be seen 
 from this, that the sin which obstructs the passages of life, 
 is not that of being rich, but of trusting in riches, or nour- 
 ishing with them a frigid selfishness, instead of making 
 them subservient to the greatest good of mankind. When 
 dispersed abroad in acts of mercy, their blessings will en- 
 dure forever. All, therefore, which the Scriptures dis- 
 countenance, is an exclusive self-love in the use of money ; 
 or plans of acquiring vigorously prosecuted, as disconnect- 
 ed from plans of doing good with what we acquire. To 
 pursue such a course, is as if a lake were endowed with 
 intelligence, and seized with the passion of accumulation, 
 should absorb the moisture for hundreds of miles around, 
 and refuse to let a particle escape from its own reservoir, 
 to fertilize the soil, or quench the parched thirst of the ani- 
 mal creation. Water diffused abroad in reeking moisture, 
 is prolific with life, beauty, and abundance, but pent up 
 within the confines of an avaricious lake, it leaves the 
 
 * Luke xiv. 16—20. 1 1 Cor. i. 26. t Mark x. 23—25. 
 
AVARICIOUS LAKE — ATMOSPHERE OF HEAVEN. 245 
 
 neighboring landscape an arid waste, to famish for want 
 of its accustonaed nourishment. Thus, a grasping pro- 
 pensity arrogates to itself to its own hurt, the means of 
 comfort, virtue, and salvation to perishing multitudes. 
 How, therefore, should it fail of excluding those who 
 cherish it, from the blessings of a religion whose primary 
 element is benevolence ? 
 
 The atmosphere of heaven is too exhilarating for the 
 lungs of sordid avarice. It could not breathe it without 
 convulsions. The miser would find his worst hell in a 
 world where he should hear of nothing but plans of labor 
 and expenditure for the good of others. Oh, reader, when 
 our exclusive feelings are brought up to the exalted 
 standard of virtue which prevails in heaven, how earthly, 
 how infernal do they appear ! We cannot come under 
 the most distant influences of the celestial city till these 
 feelings give way, and money acquired, or the means of ac- 
 quiring it, come to be regarded as the handmaids of mer- 
 cy's cause. For him, therefore, that trusteth in riches to 
 enter into the kingdom of God, does indeed appear like 
 the impossibility in nature of a camel's going through the 
 eye of a needle. 
 
 Connected with the tendency of this sordid passion to 
 shut the gates of life, are many forms of reprobation ia 
 which it is represented in the Scriptures. 
 
 That feeling so common to our nature, of self-compla* 
 cency and luxurious ease which increasing riches breed, 
 is the source to which they trace the reproach and ex- 
 tinction of the kingdom of the Ten Tribes. Ephraim 
 said, Yet I am become rich — I have found me out sub- 
 21* 
 
246 epheaim's sin — job's imprecation. 
 
 stance — in all my labors they shall find none iniquity in 
 me that were sin. Ephraim provoked him to anger most 
 bitterly — therefore shall he leave his blood upon him, 
 and his reproach shall his Lord return unto him.* Thus, 
 lulled into security, and rioting in his exclusive right to 
 the fruits of a fat land, he opened upon himself the flood- 
 gates of utter desolation. And neither science, research, 
 nor history, has been able to find the place of his sepul- 
 ture. 
 
 And so deeply criminal did Job esteem that joy and 
 confidence in wealth, which steels the heart against the 
 plaintive tones of sorrow and destitution, that if he had 
 been thus aflfected by his former prosperity, he impre- 
 cates on himself the most signal vengeance. If I have 
 made gold my hope, or have said to the most fine gold, 
 Thou art my confidence ; if I have rejoiced because my 
 wealth was great, and because mine hands had gotten me 
 much ; if I have withheld the poor from his desire, or have 
 caused the eyes of the widow to fail, or have eaten 
 my morsel alone, and the fatherless hath not eaten 
 thereof; if I have seen any perish for want of clothing, or 
 any poor without covering ; if his loins have not blessed 
 me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece of my 
 sheep, then let my arm fall from my shoulder hlade^ and 
 mine arm he hroken from the hone.^ The loathsome dis- 
 ease and abject poverty, which came upon him all at once 
 like a torrent of desolation, he confessed would be even 
 less than his demerit, if he could be charged with disre- 
 
 ♦ Hofl«a xii. 8—14. t Job xxxi. 
 
LANGUAGE OF THE PSALMS. 247 
 
 garding the claims of humanity in the use of his lost 
 abundance. If the demerit of a sin, therefore, is any cri- 
 terion of its turpitude, what can be more appalling than 
 this? 
 
 Also, the recklessness of God, and confidence in wick- 
 edness, which riches sometimes induce, by reason of the 
 ability which they afford of doing wickedly without dan- 
 ger from the laws, are assigned as the cause of extermi- 
 nation to the wicked in the following passage. God shall 
 destroy thee forever ; he shall take thee away, and pluck 
 thee out of thy dwelling-place, and root thee out of the land 
 of the living. The righteous shall see and fear, and shall 
 laugh at him. Lo, this is the man that made not God his 
 strength, but trusted in the abundance of his riches, and 
 strengthened himself in his wickedness.* The sentiment 
 which the righteous are here represented as applying to 
 those who abuse the earthly gifts of God, is applicable to 
 every case in which they are used without regard to the 
 claims of beneficence. For, in all such cases, there is 
 either a want of confidence in God, as betrayed in the 
 fear of doing good with our money, lest we come to want ; 
 or such an undue passion for wealth, as gives us pain to 
 expend any of it, except upon our own interests ; or a de- 
 sire to avail ourselves of it to purchase the trappings of 
 pride, the toys of vanity, to enable us to climb the steeps 
 of ambition, or to feed the unrestrained fires of more sen- 
 sual and degrading passions. A system of exclusive ex- 
 penditure was never yet adopted, when it did not result 
 
 * Ps. liL 5-7. 
 
248 MOTIVES FOR EXCLUSIVE USE OF MONEY. 
 
 from the separate force of one, or combined force of all 
 these motives. And we may add, it never failed to be 
 followed, sooner or later, in one way or another, by con- 
 sequences which led the observer, who was in the 
 habit of weighing actions with their results, in order 
 to warn or be warned, to exclaim, Lo, such is the effect 
 of trusting in money rather than in God ; of making it an 
 instrument of evil rather than of good. The facts of real 
 life pour a flood of light upon this page in God's book, and 
 call upon the world in accents scarcely less forcible, to 
 trust not in oppression — to become not vain in robbery 
 — and if riches increase, to set not our hearts upon them.* 
 Their admonitions are written as with letters of embossed 
 adamant, which neither time nor sophistry can erase. 
 These facts show as clearly as the Bible itself, that a wo 
 rests upon him that coveteth an evil covetousness to his 
 house, that he may set his nest on high, and be delivered 
 from the power of evil. When he imagines that his 
 shrewd plans of acquiring or keeping, have so far succeed- 
 ed as to place him above want, he shall find that he has 
 only been consulting shame to himself by disregarding 
 the claims of many people, and has sinned against his own 
 best interests. For the stone shall cry out of the wall^ 
 and the beam out of the timber shall answer it.f Every 
 stone and piece of timber in the house which thou shalt 
 build with money obtained by fraud, or kept back at the 
 expense of charity ; every tree that adorns thy garden 
 and shades thy walk at noon ; every feather in thy downy 
 
 ♦ ?$. Ixii. 10. . . t Habak. ii. 10—12. 
 
HAUNTED DWELLINGS OF WEALTH. 249 
 
 piliow ; every article of luxury about thy person will, 
 }.n the end, become a spectre to torture thy waking 
 Shoughts, and alarm thy midnight dreams. Each shall 
 proclaim to the other thy guilt ; devils shall join in the 
 chorus ^ while thy conscience will add its cruel remon- 
 strances, to convert all this scene of beauty, which thy 
 wealth shall spread out before thee, into an aspect more 
 dismal than the shades of death. Though rich and in- 
 creased in goods, a feeling of want shall prey upon thy 
 inmost soul, worse than earthly poverty ever engendered. 
 Thy sterile nature shall be like the heath of the desert, 
 not knowing when good cometh, because thou hast cove- 
 tously heaped up to thyself the means of good to others.* 
 But we will wind up this catalogue of maledictions 
 with that solemn denunciation of the Almighty against 
 his ancient people, after showing them that instead of 
 burnt-offerings and calves of a year old, he required 
 that they should do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly 
 with God. For the rich men of the city are full of 
 violence, and the inhabitants thereof have spoken lies, 
 and their tongue is deceitful in their mouth. Therefore, 
 also, will I make thee sick in smiting thee, in making thee 
 desolate because of thy sins. Thou shalt eat, but not be 
 satisfied ; and thy casting down shall be in the midst of 
 thee ; and thou shalt take hold, but shalt not deliver ; and 
 that which thou deliverest will I give up to the sword. 
 Thou shalt sow, but shalt not reap ; thou shalt tread the 
 olives, but not anoint thee with oil ; and sweet wine, 
 but shalt not drink wine.f 
 
 * Jer. xvil 1—6. * Micah vi. 
 
250 EVIDENCE OF NATURE AND REVELATION. 
 
 Hence, while the religion, whose progress is traced la 
 the Scriptures, was uniformly developed in connection 
 with the gratuitous expenditure of money, in amounts 
 proportioned to the degree of hold which it had taken 
 upon the character, it denounces in varied terms of un- 
 measured severity, not only the lawless means of acquir- 
 ing, but the devoting to ourselves exclusively of what is 
 honorably gained. These facts, I leave to the candid re- 
 flection of my reader, as adding another link in the chain 
 of evidence which God has spread out before you, both 
 in the natural and revealed economy, to establish the 
 principle, that money cannot be used or pursued as it 
 ought to be, except reference be had to the gratuitous 
 expenditure of a liberal proportion of it, to diminish th& 
 miseries, and increase the knowledge, virtue, and kappk 
 ness of the human familv. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Explicit Enactments. 
 
 The bearing of revealed religion upon this point 
 is not merely inferential and oblique ; but it comes 
 down upon us with all the fullness and solemnity of di- 
 rect law. Unlike some other duties, the one we advocate 
 has concentrated upon it the united force of the Mosaic 
 and Christian institutions. Indeed, it is not to be supposed 
 that He who established the relations between man and 
 man, who placed them in a condition of mutual depen- 
 dance, and who creates in one portion a need which he 
 has given the other the means of supplying, would frame 
 into words a system of laws, which should have no refe- 
 rence to these obvious features in the economy of human 
 nature. The 'absence of so material an item in the re- 
 vealed system, would bring its divine origin under suspi- 
 cion, by breaking up its harmony with the real world. 
 Not to enact what is necessary, would be as material a 
 defect as to enact what is impossible ; and a code of lawa 
 professing to come from God, that should require us to 
 liye in fire ox water, would not have imposture written 
 
252 HARMONY OF RELIGION WITH THE REAL WORLD. 
 
 upon it in bolder characters, than one that should not en- 
 join an efficient mercy and beneficence. The glory of 
 revealed religion consists in its adaptation to the charac- 
 ter and condition of the beings to whom it is given. 
 
 Moreover, bow is it to be supposed that a God who 
 practises to all a liberality so free, appropriate, and abun- 
 dant, should give laws to beings capable of a like libera- 
 lity in their measure and degree, and yet omit the incul- 
 cation of it as a duty upon them ? And if he inculcate i^ 
 at all, how it is possible that he should have omitted to 
 require the habitual and constant performance of the duty 
 since such is his manner of doing good to us ? Consider- 
 ations like these prepare us to expect from the Bible, as 
 a record of God's revealed laws, not merely oblique allu- 
 sions to the practice of beneficence, but express precepts 
 and authoritative sanctions to rivet upon the conscience 
 the obligations of this duty. 
 
 And what we have a right to expect we find, spread 
 out through all the inspired pages. Such precepts even in 
 the law of Moses, that " ministration of condemnation/* 
 are often repeated, on the principle that the greater resist- 
 ance must be met by the greater force; because the 
 duty they enjoin has to encounter the strength of a frigid, 
 exclusive, and unbounded self-love. The tenor of these 
 precepts is, If there be among you a poor man of thy 
 brethren within thy gates in the land which the Lord thy 
 God giveth thee, thou shalt not harden thine heart, nor 
 shut thy hand from thy poor brother. But thou shalt 
 open thine hand wide unto him, and shalt surely lend him 
 sufficient for his need, in that which he wanteth. Thou 
 
SYMPATHY NECESSARY. 253 
 
 shah surely give him, and thy heart shall not be grieved 
 when thou givestunto him. For the poor shall never cease 
 out of the land ; therefore I command thee, saying, Thou 
 shall open thy hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and 
 to thy needy in thy land.* This passage has reference to 
 gratuities over and above the annual tithe which was de- 
 manded of the nation for the various objects of their 
 faith and worship. It bears directly upon the condition 
 of destitution in which God had determined ever to leave 
 a portion of the inhabitants of the land, in order to 
 open channels for the surplus abundance of the rich, and 
 to keep up a healthy circulation of the benevolent sym- 
 pathies. As suffering is said to be necessary to the per- 
 fection of the human character,! so is an active sympa- 
 thy in suffering, to a healthy tone of moral feeling. 
 Where no such sympathies exist the feelings collapse 
 upon self, or break out into channels of riot and licen- 
 tiousness. Human life being thrown in < between a smile 
 and a tear,' requires to have its thoughts, affections, 
 labors and expenditures, duly balanced between those 
 scenes which produce the one and the other, in order to 
 suit them to the actual condition of the world. Hence, 
 if we have no trouble pressing hard upon ourselves, we 
 ought to take an interest in those that have ; and the de- 
 termination never to let the poor cease out of the land is 
 no less necessary to the perfection of our character, than 
 
 * Deut. XV. 7—11. 
 
 t A doctrine of Spurzheim, which has the merit of being founded 
 in nature, whatever may be aaid of his philosophy of the human 
 >jain. 
 
 23 
 
254 VEEBAL SANCTION TO THE 
 
 the command to contribute is to their alleviation. It 
 is thus that we learn to reef the sails by means of which 
 the gales of prosperity would otherwise overturn and 
 bury us in ruin. Let us, therefore, consider the call to 
 beneficence, which proceeded from the midst of thunder- 
 ing, lightning, and tempest, as no less necessary or appli- 
 cable to us, than to the people upon whose ear its awful 
 accents directly fell. 
 
 The same call is in fact reiterated under His sanction, 
 who came not to destroy the law or the prophets, but to 
 fulfil. Charge them that are rich in this world, that they 
 be not high-minded, nor trust in uncertain riches, but in 
 the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy ; 
 that they do good, that they be rich in good works ; ready 
 to distribute, willing to communicate.* To this charge 
 the seal of inspiralion is affixed, and of course the pre- 
 cept which it requires to be urged, contains all the 
 force of law, yea, of law emanating from Him by whom 
 kings reign and princes decree justice. The purport of 
 the precept is that riches, instead of being used as the means 
 of luxury and aggrandizement, or confided in as a source 
 of permanent enjoyment, as they too often are, should bo 
 distributed among the needy, that thus, like money in- 
 vested, or seed sown in a fertile soil, they may advance 
 and multiply by increasing the aggregate of human hap- 
 piness. And this is a law for all ages, and not merely for 
 the one in which it was put into words, for all people, as 
 well as those to whom Timothy was required to dispense 
 
 * 1 Tim. Ti. 17, 18. 
 
LAWS OF NATURE. 255 
 
 it. It comes in as a verbal sanction from the lips of God, 
 to those laws which we have before noticed as having 
 been wrought into the texture of the natural and social 
 system. Let every one, therefore, who has riches or the 
 means of acquiring them, know that God will hold him 
 responsible for such an exercise of his stewardship, as 
 will contribute to the greatest physical, intellectual, and 
 moral good of the world. 
 
 To do good and communicate, therefore, he must not 
 forget ; for with such sacrifices God is well pleased.* 
 Nor is it possible for God to be pleased with any plans of ap- 
 propriating our worldly substance which make no provision 
 for doing good, since to communicate and to do good, is the 
 grand motto under which the Divinity himself conducts 
 his vast plans of empire. He was happy in himself, and 
 might have so remained, if no saint or angel in bliss had 
 ever tuned a harp to his praise. His happiness is an 
 ocean without a bottom or a shore, incapable of increase 
 or diminution ; still it is his delight to pour it out through 
 innumerable streams, that others may partake, and being 
 filled with his fullness, may rejoice with joy unspeakable 
 and full of glory. 
 
 The apostle also associates with other duties that of 
 distributing to the necessities of saints, and being given to 
 hospitality, t ' That is, in respect to the wants of saints be 
 communicative, be ready to impart, be liberal, be free to 
 give. 'J Here again we have the force of direct law to 
 bind us to the exercise of beneficence in the use of money. 
 
 ♦ Heb. xiii. 16. t Rom. xii, 13, * Stuart on this passage. 
 
256 INDISCRIMINATE BENEFICENCE. 
 
 And we are commanded not only to be liberal to the 
 saints, but if an enemy hunger, to feed him — if he thirst, 
 to give him drink.* The above precepts united bind us 
 to a course of indiscriminate beneficence ; to require no 
 other quality in the object of our benefactions than that 
 of destitution, intellectual, moral, or physical ; to scatter 
 them alike among friends and foes, and thus to rise nobly 
 and sublimely above all the narrow interests and colli- 
 sions of this life, in the manner of great Heaven, who 
 throws the blessings of this world from his hand, leaving 
 them to fall indiscriminately upon his friends and his ene- 
 mies.t Our benefactions should proceed upon the prin- 
 ciple, that every man is a creature of God, to whom hap- 
 piness is as dear as to others ; every one equally with 
 ourselves is a member of the human fraternity ; every 
 one yet alive, we have a right to presume, is within the 
 precincts of mercy, and as God is doing him good in many 
 ways, we may venture to do so too ; and every man is 
 in a condition sufficiently hopeful to justify us in labor- 
 ing, praying, and sacrificing money to promote his pre- 
 sent good and future salvation. Hence, we are to do 
 good un4o all,t and in the use of worldly substance exer- 
 cise an indiscriminate beneficence. 
 
 The practice of bestosving pious gratuities, in the use 
 of property, holds a place among the virtues so prominent 
 and commanding, that a heart and character properly 
 attuned to its exercise, can hardly fail of being right in 
 other respects. Hence, when our Saviour commanded 
 
 ♦ Rom. xii. 20. t Matt. v. 45. t Gal. y'\. 10. 
 
GIVING ALMS NOTHING UNCLEAN. 257 
 
 the Pharisees, who were over-scrupulous in regard to eat- 
 ing with unwashed hands, to give alms of such things as 
 they had, he adds this as the consequence, that nothing 
 would be unclean to them,* A life spent in scattering 
 abroad the means of alleviation to pain, of removing 
 ignorance, correcting vice, and of multiplying enjoyment, 
 or in pouring the beams of immortal hope upon the darkness 
 of human life, has little to apprehend in regard to its final 
 acceptance. Let this, therefore, be our concern, rather 
 than that of being exact in our creed, or precise in our 
 rituals. 
 
 Oh, had those talents, riches, years, labors, and vari- 
 ous resources which the church has exhausted upon the- 
 oretical debate, useless discussion, hypercritical acumen, 
 nice points of ceremony, and angry contention, been 
 directed to the substantial object of remedying evils in the 
 condition of the world, and raising man m the scale of 
 virtue, knowledge, and holiness, who can calculate the 
 mighty result ? The kingdoms of this world might ere this 
 have become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ. 
 
 Every man, therefore, according as he purposes in his 
 heart, so let him give, not grudgingly, or of necessity — 
 for God loveth a cheerful giver ; yea, he that giveth, 
 let him do it with simplicity or liberality ; he that showeth 
 mercy, with cheerfulness. f The principle from which 
 deeds of mercy flow, once established in the heart, should 
 not be choked by the selfish passions, but should be 
 allowed play and scope, that its streams, instead of becom- 
 ing less, may increase with the increasing means of filling 
 
 ♦ Luke xi. 41. + 2 Cor. Lx. 7. Rom. xii. 8. 
 
 2i* 
 
258 CONTRIBUTIONS DIMINISHED 
 
 their channels. Sometunes the amount expended in 
 doinar ffood diminishes in the inverse ratio of the actual 
 increase in the ability to do, owing to the energy which 
 counteracting propensities acquire by habits of indul- 
 fjence. And the man of ten thousand has been known to 
 bestow less upon works of mercy, than he did when he 
 was but the man of a thousand. It seems to be a difficult 
 acquisition duly to apportion the amount of our charities 
 to the advance of our means ; in fact, it is rarely attempt- 
 ed, and so there is no proportion at all between them. 
 While the increase of wealth may easily be detected in 
 the additional sumptuousness of the equipage, furniture, 
 and style of living, it is rarely to be discovered from the 
 amount of a man's religious gratuities. But, that it should 
 be so is not less a violation of the word of God, than it is 
 of our natural sense of justice and propriety. Having 
 once purposed in our hearts to do good with our money, 
 let us not grudge the doing of it ; but as our means 
 increase, let us cheerfully and liberally go forward in 
 acting upon our purpose ; for God being himself a cheer- 
 ful giver, delights in those who are so. 
 
 In connection with precepts enjoining pecuniary gra- 
 tuities, the Scriptures abound in inculcations of that com- 
 passion for the afflicted, which, legitimately followed up, 
 would lead us to obey these precepts. Put on, therefore, 
 as the elect of God, bowels of mercies, kindness, humble, 
 nessofmind, meekness, long suffering.* To feel a yearn- 
 ing of soul over the miseries of the world like what the 
 
 ♦ Col. iii. 12. 
 
WITH INCREASING ABILITY. 259 
 
 mother feels over the cradle of her sick infant — to cherish, 
 such a degree of kindness as shall not tire under difficult3r 
 and discouragement, any more than He tired under his 
 labors, whose errand to man was only one of mercy — to 
 be clothed with a humility so deep and genuine, that cal- 
 umny and contempt cannot injure us — and to have a com- 
 plete command over all our irritable feelings under circum- 
 stances of peculiar provocation, are attainments highly or- 
 namental to the chosen, saintly, and beloved sons of our 
 Father who is in heaven. 
 
 Nought but the melting accents of love are proper to 
 lips employed in praising love so infinite, so divine, as 
 that which interested God in the work of saving us. 
 Christianity is a weeping Genius, and receives none under 
 the wing of her protection who cannot mingle tears with 
 her own, and enter with a feeling heart into plans for 
 alleviating sorrow and distress. The tears, groans, and 
 blood, which attended her introduction into our world, 
 were ominous of her subsequent character, and have 
 taught her to respond to the pangs of tortured hearts, and 
 to bestow peculiar tokens of her favor upon those who 
 feel the most deeply for ruined human nature. — 
 Scenes of suffering attract her as reeking moisture the 
 warmth of the sun-beam, and " her blessed troop of minis- 
 tering spirits invite the child of sorrow to a banquet," 
 
 whose bright faces 
 
 Cast thousand beams upon him like the sun ;"* 
 
 thus converting the darkness around him into a flood of 
 
 * Shakspeare. 
 
260 NO EELIGION SALUTARY 
 
 light. She acts upon the principle that to him that fs 
 afilicted pity should be shown.* 
 
 And as affliction is the common lot of man, no religion 
 would be adapted to our condition, that did not come with 
 balm for our woes. And no religion is salutary in its 
 influence, that does not lead those who submit to its sway, 
 to exercise bowels of mercies and kindness. Nor are our 
 charities to be confined to those in whose sufferings acquain- 
 tance has given us a peculiar interest; for we are command- 
 ed to be not forgetful to entertain strangers, since some have 
 thus had their hospitality rewarded by entertaining angels 
 unawares. Remember them that are in bonds as bound 
 with them ; and them which suffer adversity, as being 
 yourselves also in the body.f Is it not reasonable^that a 
 community in suffering should lead to a community of 
 interest in alleviating suffering? If there are those whose 
 situation exempts them from such an interest, they are 
 the inhabitants of heaven. They are not in this prison- 
 house of clay, exposed to all the ills that infest mortality, 
 but breathe a purer and more salubrious atmosphere. 
 Yet, they feel for sorrow-stricken man — Christ so felt as 
 to become poor, that through his poverty we might be 
 rich. Angels so feel that there is more joy in heaven 
 over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine 
 just persons that need no repentance. They are minis- 
 tering spirits also, sent forth to this hospital of plagues, to 
 minister to them that shall be heirs of salvation. And 
 how can we, the common sharers in this lot of wo, fail to 
 
 * Job vi. 14. t Heb. xiii. 3. 
 
THAT IS NOT MERCIFUL. ^61 
 
 sympathize with each other, rejoicing with them that do 
 rejoice, and weeping with them that weep ?* 
 
 Nor are we io feel alone, but so to feel as shall put us 
 opon the track of substantial alleviation. My little chil- 
 dren, let us not love in word^ neither in tongue ; but in 
 deed and in truth,-\ Whoso hath this world's goods and 
 seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of 
 compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in 
 him ?:j: If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of 
 daily food, and one of you say unto them. Depart in peace, 
 be ye warmed and filled ; notwithstanding ye give them 
 not those things which are needful to the body, what doth 
 it profit ?1| There can be no compassion worthy of the 
 name, where pecuniary sacrifices are wholly wanting. 
 Tears, prayers, and kind wishes, will never give food to 
 the hungry, instruction to the ignorant, and salvation to 
 the lost. Beneficence must consist of some more sub- 
 stantial materials to render it efficacious. Nor is that a 
 compassion adapted to the exigencies of human nature, 
 which can see no destitution that does not respect the body, 
 when the soul, with its exalted and undying energies, in 
 more than six-eighths of the human race, is the victim of 
 dangerous and damnable errors, of polluting vices, and of 
 a darkness that may be felt. The throes of physical 
 pain are inefficacious in their real tendency to produce 
 sympathy, compared with the more keen and undying 
 pangs of a soul that is ruined by sin. " Anguish of mind," 
 says an observing writer, " has driven thousands to sui- 
 
 ♦ Rom, xiL15. t IJohn iv. IS. $Johniv.l7. llJas- u, 15, 16. J 
 
262 DESTITUTION DEMANDING RELIEF. 
 
 cide; anguish of body none. This proves that the 
 health of the mind is of far greater consequence than the 
 health of the body, although both of them are deserving of 
 much more attention than either receives." The force of 
 the foregoing precepts, therefore, which are too plain to 
 be misapprehended, falls unabated upon all kinds of suf- 
 fering and destitution, making it a duty, not to be resisted 
 without incurring the guilt of openly opposing God, to 
 labor, to pray, and to sacrifice money for the general 
 alleviation of the woes of ignorant, polluted, and suffering 
 human nature* 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Scripture motives to beneficence — promises of temporal reward-^- 
 history of B . 
 
 The motives by which the scripture surge a pious and 
 benevolent use of money upon the conscience and the 
 heart require to be noticed. Among the more promi- 
 nent, which are all that fall within the scope of our de- 
 sign, are promises of temporal reward — high terms of com- 
 mendation upon an efficient liter ality — -strong representa- 
 tions of the turpitude and demerit of illiberality — and the 
 favorable influence which a charitable use of worldly pro- 
 perty will cause it to exert upon our eternal destiny. In 
 fact the ground over which we have already passed is 
 full of inducements for the practice of the virtue which 
 we have under consideration. 
 
 In relation to promises of temporal reward as a motive 
 to the practice of beneficence, there are with many strong 
 feelings of suspicion and reprobation. We are told that 
 for a man to give his money because he expects to receive 
 back again as much or more in kind, annihilates the gra- 
 tuity of the act, and is no more benevolent than to invest 
 
264 MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 it in bank-stock, with the expectation of receiving his re- 
 gular dividends. To this I have only to reply, that to 
 take God as our security for a return in kind when we 
 give, is quite a different transaction from taking the secu- 
 rities which exist between man and man, since the first 
 implies a religious faith, or such a trust in the divine pro- 
 mise as can never be separated from the actual exercise 
 of piety in the heart j while the other implies no such 
 state of heart, is exercised in common by men of all 
 varieties of moral character, and is based simply o n the 
 ordinary faith of contracts. The giving away of money as 
 a road to prosperity and wealth cannot be pursued by a 
 man of weak faith. Such a man will prefer to trust to 
 bis skill in hoarding, rather than the divine promises ; and 
 hence, there is little danger of their being perverted into 
 the means of perpetuating a carnal spirit. Furthermore^ 
 it is no more selfish to hope for prosperity in our worldly 
 afiairs, from obeying the laws by which God directs the 
 use of money, than it is to hope for blessings in answer 
 to prayer. And yet, without such hope prayer could not 
 exist. This objection therefore, like an ignis fatuus, van- 
 ishes as we approach it. 
 
 It is said, moreover, that the position contradicts mat- 
 ters of fact, since the liberal are as often poor as [the 
 illiberal, and take their full share in the hazards and losses 
 connected with the prosecution of business. I am aware 
 that, to assume for a pious liberality in giving money for 
 purposes of beneficence, and greater worldly prosperity, 
 the relation of cause and eflect, or to say that where the 
 firit exists the Utter must follow, ia a position liable to- 
 
PROMISES OF TEMPORAL REWARD. 265 
 
 many apparent objections from the /acts of real life. But, 
 how many of these contradictions are merely apparent* 
 arising from our misjudging concerning the nature of the 
 liberality itself, or from drawing hasty and unfounded con- 
 clusions concerning the result, it may be difficult to deter- 
 mine. There are many ways in which a man may give 
 and yet not do it on the principles of the Bible ; and so 
 there are many circumstances from which one who gives 
 on those principles may seem for the time to fail of his 
 reward, but to whom it will be sure in the end. The bare 
 fact of occasional gratuities to the best objects, is no evi- 
 dence that they are bestowed in eompliance with the spirit 
 and tenor of the Scriptures. They may be wanting in the 
 principle, in the uniformity, m the discretion, in the per- 
 severance, in the singleness of eye to the divine glory, 
 and in other qualities essential to the identity of Christian 
 liberality. They may result from constitutional propen- 
 sities to be lavish in the use of money, which, by some 
 accident of birth or education, have been thrown into 
 channels seemingly religious ; or from the desire to be 
 thought more able to give than a man really is, and so, 
 when the bubble breaks, and the facts come to light, it 
 may be erroneously esteemed a case of contradiction to 
 the principle that Christian liberality secures greater 
 worldly prosperity. Individuals also in whom the memo- 
 ry of past unfairness in business awakens apprehensions 
 of a future blight to all their earthly hopes, may perhaps 
 seize upon the doctrine we advocate ; and thus give being 
 to a harvest of hot-bed charities, under an impression that 
 they may operate as a policy of insurance upon their 
 33 
 
266 MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 estates. As well may a man attempt to turn the thunder, 
 bolt from its course with a straw, as to ward off by these 
 means the evils which his avarice has engendered. 
 
 Some such undetected deficiency may destroy the va- 
 lidity of the exceptionable cases, that may perhaps occur 
 to our minds. And on the other hand, we are equally 
 liable to be deceived about the results of a man's con- 
 duct upon his temporal interest, by judging too premature- 
 ly, or by taking partial views of the case ; when it is only 
 from a man's history taken as a whole, that facts can be 
 made out. There may be under the prosperity of the 
 covetous man volcanic fires, which in the end will break 
 out and scatter his golden stores to the wind ; or perhaps 
 we shall not see the dire effects of his habits till his descen- 
 dants come into his place, and either waste his substance, 
 or convert it into the means of their own ruin. Thus it 
 was with Ahab when he came into possession of the vine- 
 yard of Naboth the Jezreelite by means of rapine and 
 murder ; the punishment was decreed, but the blow was 
 not struck ti)ll after his death, when it came down with 
 utter exterigfiination upon his posterity.* 
 
 On the other hand, the man who is religiously liberal 
 with his income, may have a temporary cloud come over 
 his affairs that might lead one to suppose that the connec, 
 tion of such a practice with greater prosperity is chimeri- 
 cal, when by waiting a little, he would see the sun break- 
 ing out from behind that cloud with brighter beams than 
 ever. Perhaps the effect of his habits, like bread cast 
 ypon the waters, may not be realized till after many days, 
 
 ♦ I Kings, xxi. 21, 29. 
 
PROMISES OF TEMPORAL REWARD. 
 
 ^61 
 
 It is only by looking at conduct and its tendencies in the 
 aggregate, that facts can be gathered to determine a point 
 like this. Whatever may be said of counteracting facts, 
 I think that most minds have in themselves the means of 
 being satisfied from observations upon real life that an 
 age, a nation, community, or an individual distinguished 
 for beneficence, liberal, disinterested, and conscientious, 
 would be equally distinguished for the means of worldly 
 enjoyment ; while on the other hand, one that should be 
 churlish, sordid, exclusive, and misanthropic, would be 
 shorn even of the beams of physical delight. There are few 
 persons, perhaps none, who would not upon serious reflec- 
 tion, prefer to take the chance of worldly prosperity and en- 
 joyment of one who is ever devising plans of doing good with 
 his money, than to take that of an opposite spirit. For, be_ 
 sides the security of greater earthly good which we invol- 
 untarily associate with the course of the piously and con- 
 scientiously liberal, nothing is more certain than, that the 
 state of the heart from which their habits flow is the very 
 element of bliss. " If there be a pleasure on earth which 
 angels cannot enjoy, and which they might almost envy 
 man the possession of, it is the power of relieving distress. 
 If there be a pain which devils might pity man for endur- 
 ing, it is the death-bed reflection that we have possessed 
 the power of doing good, but that we have abused and 
 perverted it to purposes of ill." In fine, reflection will be 
 apt to convince most person.s> that matters of fact rather 
 confirm than invalidate the connection of greater worldly 
 prosperity with the exercise of a consistent beneficence. 
 At all events, as God has judged it best to place promises 
 
268 MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 of such prosperity among the motives to liberality, we 
 deem it safe to treat them with respect and confidence. 
 
 A good man sheweth favor, and lendeth — he will 
 guide his affairs with discretion. Surely he shall not be 
 moved forever. He hath dispersed — he hath given to the 
 poor ; his righteousness endureth forever — his horn shall 
 be exalted with honor.* The influence of a pious concern 
 to make one's worldly income subservient to the greatest 
 good of mankind, in restraining those overreaching pas- 
 sions that precipitate men upon measures which result in 
 the wreck of fortunes, and in leading to the adoption of 
 safe plans of business, is neither so intricate nor so seldom 
 witnessed, as to leave any difficulty in appreciating its 
 force. Failures in business, nine times out often, may be 
 traced to that overweening desire for wealth, or impetu- 
 ous haste to gain the object, which a due regard to the 
 glory of God and the good of mankind might have 
 restrained. Or they result from that improvident and 
 reckless use of money, into which a man who considers 
 himself only the steward of what he has, to be called to 
 an account ere long by the supfeme Owner, is in little 
 danger of being betrayed. 
 
 Those in whom the desire of gain becomes predomi- 
 nant, are apt to urge their means of acquiring to the 
 utmost point of tension ; incur heavy responsibilities with 
 little prospect of being able to meet them ; stake all upon 
 the uncertain wheel of fortune ; and hence, a trifling mis- 
 adventure coming athwart their course dissipates in one 
 
 ♦ Ps. cxii. 5—9. 
 
PROMISES OF TEMPORAL REWARD. 269: 
 
 hour their golden dreams, and plunges them in bank- 
 ruptcy and ruin. " Avarice," it is truly said by a certain 
 writer, "has ruined more men than prodigality; and the 
 blindest thoughtlessness of expenditure has not destroyed 
 so many fortunes, as the calculating but insatiable lust of 
 accumulation." The periodical convulsions in the busi- 
 ness world, with which a few years' observation renders 
 us familiar,, may be traced to precisely such an origin. 
 The heat, vehemence, and impetuous haste to rise above 
 the necessities of toil, and to luxuriate amid ample accun 
 mulations, by which the great body of men of business be- 
 come infatuated, during a prosperous period, hurry them 
 into the most extended credit, and being checked by trans- 
 verse events, a collapse succeeds, and an explosion takes 
 place, which spreads the work of destruction far and wide. 
 With an imperfect reckoning, a rioting crew, a neglected 
 helm, and sails all spread, what can be expected from the 
 ship of business, when it has acquired under these circum-. 
 stances the momentum of a powerful gale, but that it 
 should be lost in unknown seas ? 
 
 By laying out, therefore, to show favor to the unfor-. 
 tunate, by dispersing abroad a portion of heaven's pre- 
 cious gifts as regularly as they are received, by habitu- 
 ally feeling that all we have belongs to God, and by the 
 continual desire of gaining something to expend upon the 
 improvement of our fellow men, the mind is kept in due 
 balance, and is able to guide its affairs with discretion ► 
 The natural consequence is, that the evils by which thou- 
 sands are made poor are avoided,, and the horn is exalted 
 with honor and prosperity. 
 
 33* 
 
270 MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 This promise, however, is not confined to a single 
 passage, but may be found in a variety of forms, and in terms 
 as explicit as they can be made. Blessed is the man that 
 considereth the poor — the Lord will deliver him in time 
 of trouble. The Lord will preserve him, and keep him 
 alive ; and he shall be blessed upon the earth — and thou 
 shalt not deliver him unto the will of his enemies. The 
 Lord will strengthen him upon the bed of languishing — • 
 thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness.* Though he 
 has no right to expect exemption from trouble, from ene- 
 mies, from sickness, and from those evils which are the 
 common lot of humanity, yet the Lord will sustain him 
 under them, and will keep him alive, or transport him to 
 a region of peace, where the pious poor, whom his bounty 
 relieved, shall receive him into everlasting habitations. 
 The liberal who devise liberal things shall stand, and what 
 they give to others shall be given to them in return, good 
 measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running 
 over.f 
 
 Though fallen and debased, the human character still 
 retains its respect for excellence, nor can it fail to feel 
 itself stirred up to effort for the interest of one in trouble, 
 whose life has been filled up with disinterested benefac- 
 tions. It is owing to this that Solomon advises as a mat- 
 ter of prudence, to give a portion to seven, and also to 
 eight ; for thou knowest not what evil shall be upon the 
 earth. I A life spent in doing good, may expect, sooner 
 or later, to have what it has conferred upon others, poured 
 
 ♦ Pfl. xli. 1—3. t Isa. xxxii. 8. Luke vi. 38. t Eccl. xi. 2. 
 
PROMISES OF TEMPORAL REWARD. 271 
 
 back upon itself in ten-fold profusion. It will be like the 
 •exhalations which the earth sends up into the atmosphere, 
 which, when they return, bring with them the still more 
 copious moisture which the ocean supplies, to fertilize and 
 enrich the soil. In the actual good which accrues to 
 those who are liberal on right principles, the money thus 
 given proves to be their most lucrative investment. It 
 matters not though their alms are done in secret, where 
 no mortal eye can behold them to devise means for their 
 jeward ; yet God sees, and he kas promised to reward 
 them openly.* As the line of greatest fertility through a 
 landscape, marks the course of a concealed river, so the 
 most luxuriant growth of the Christian virtues, and of the 
 means and capacity of worldly enjoyment, indicates with 
 sufficient clearness where there is the most real and effi- 
 cient interest in the woes of mankind. 
 
 Hence, there is great force in the apostolic criterion : 
 Now this I say, he who sows sparingly, shall reap 
 sparingly, and he who sows bountifully, shall reap 
 bountifully. For God is able to make every blessing 
 abound to you ; that in every thing always having 
 all-sufficiency, you may abound in every good work.f 
 As the husbandman has reason to expect that he shall 
 reap an amount of fruit proportioned to what he sows, 
 so the ^dispenser of good to others, may expect a re- 
 turn of good to himself; in the ratio of what he dispenses. 
 There may be unforeseen variations, as in the case of the 
 husbandman ; but they are not sufficiently numerous to 
 unsettle the general principle. 
 
 * Matt. vL 4. f2 Cor, ix. 6, 8. , 
 
272 MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE ► 
 
 He that hath pity on the poor, lendeth unto the Lordj^. 
 and that which he hath given will he pay him again."^ 
 God identifies the interests of the poor with his own, and 
 becomes the underwriter of all debts piously contracted in 
 conferring upon them temporal or spiritual blessings. He 
 may allow the obligation to lie for a time unpaid ; but 
 still his veracity is pledged to make it good in the end. 
 We have, therefore, only to go forward in works of mer- 
 cy, in full confidence that God will not suffer us even in 
 this world to be the final losers. As his eye pities, as he 
 weighs the sighs of the afflicted, 
 
 "And studies the philosophy of tears, 
 (A science yet unlectured in our schools,) 
 As he descends deep into the breast, 
 And finds their source :"t 
 
 yea, as his hand delights to relieve, so ought we to have 
 pity upon the afflicted, that we may prove our relationship 
 to Him, as our Father in heaven. In doing so, we need 
 not fear the loss of our reward ; for he that hath a boun- 
 tiful eye shall he blessed ; for he giveth of his bread to 
 the poor.if He that giveth to the poor, shall not lack — 
 but he that hideth his eyes, shall have many a curse. || 
 
 How many cautiously avoid scenes of misery, lest 
 their sympathies should be enkindled, and thus, in the mo- 
 ment of excitement, they should diminish aught of their 
 hoarded stores ! How little do such reflect upon their 
 own liability hereafter to present a spectacle of destitu- 
 tion and misery, even more appalling than any they are 
 
 ■ ♦ Prov. xix. 17. t Young, t Prov. xxii. 9. II Prov. xxviii. 27. 
 
PROMISES OP TEMPORAL REWARD. 2T3 
 
 "now called to witness ! Then, if all eyes are turned away 
 from them, must they not confess the retribution to be a 
 Tighteoua one? 
 
 Jesus answered and said, Verily I say unto you, there 
 is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or 
 father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my 
 ^ake and the gospel's, but he shall receive a hundred- 
 fold now in this present time, houses, and brethren, and 
 sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands.* This de- 
 claration is too explicit, too positive, and from a source 
 too unquestionable, to require explanation or argument. 
 As he by whom it was made cannot speak amiss, those 
 who, /or his sake and the gospeVs, in a right manner and 
 from right motives, sacrifice earthly good, shall receive 
 in kind again a hundred-fold. He that receiveth a prophet 
 in the name of a prophet, shall receive a prophet's reward ; 
 and he that receiveth a righteous man, in the name of a 
 righteous man, shall receive a righteous man's reward. 
 And whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little 
 ones a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, 
 !verily I say unto you, he shall in nowise lose his reward.f 
 Thus, not only the heavier losses of houses, lands, and rela- 
 tives, which we sustain for Christ's sake, shall have their re- 
 ward ; but the most trifling gratuity for the relief of good 
 men will have its reward. Honor the Lord with thy sub- 
 stance, and with the first fruits of all thine increase ; so 
 shall thy barns be filled with plenty, and thy presses shall 
 burst out with new wine.:j: A scattering of this kind only 
 
 * Mark x. 29, 30. t Matu x. 41, 42. t Prov. iii. 9, 10. 
 
274 MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 serves to increase ; a casting of our bread upon tfie^ 
 waters only proves the way for us to receive it in aug- 
 mented abundance ; and by watering others, we secure 
 to ourselves tbe privilege of being watered in our turn. 
 It is the liberal soul, and not the griping man of gold, that 
 shall be made fat.* Such are not all, but only selections 
 from the numerous promises of temporal good as a reward 
 of Christian liberality, which the Scriptures contain. 
 
 Such promises were often repeated to the Hebrew na- 
 tion, and the instances are not rare in which their destitu- 
 tion, misery,- and subjection to enemies, are ascribed to their 
 covetous contempt of the divine claims. Thou shalt sure- 
 ly give unto thy poor brother, and thine heart shall not 
 be grieved when thou givest unto him — hecause that for 
 this things the Lord thy God shall bless thee in all thy 
 works, and in all that thou puttest thine hand unto.f Bring 
 ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be 
 meat in my house, and prove me now herewith, saith the 
 Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of 
 heaven and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not 
 be room enough to receive it. And I will rebuke the 
 devourer for your sakes, and he shall not destroy the fruits 
 of your ground ; neither shall your vine cast her fruit- 
 before the time in the field, saith the Lord of hosts.J In 
 not a few instances the nation made trial of that to which 
 they are here exhorted, and the result fully verified the 
 prediction. When religion was revived, the temple re- 
 paired, tlie means of sacrificial offering duly supplied, the 
 
 ♦ Prov, xxiv.. 25 -y also, xiv. 21'. t Dent xv. 10. t Mai. iii. 10—12.- 
 
PROMISES OF TEMPORAL REWARD. 275 
 
 appointed portion was rendered to the priest, the fa- 
 therless, the widow, and the stranger, and thus, the 
 claims of God were promptly met ; then was the date of 
 an unusual degree of prosperity to the nation. The 
 fields were loaded with abundance, the olive, the vine, the 
 iig, the date, the palm, and every tree bearing fruit, poured 
 its delicious and ample burden into the lap of joyful indus- 
 try, and the hearts of the people were cheered with wine^ 
 and their faces shone with oil. Flocks were spread over 
 ■their hills/their valleys were covered with herds, and the 
 indications of prosperity were apparent on every hand. 
 
 But the reverse of all this was their sad experience, 
 when the rites of their religion were neglected either 
 from motives of covetousness, or fondness for strange 
 gods. Then, famine showed his haggard visage within 
 vtheir borders ; pestilence walked abroad at midnight, or 
 desolated at noon, breathing contagion and death on 
 every hand 4 and chains, prisons, and slavery were the 
 portion of those who survived the general devastation. 
 These effects of withholding their contributions from God's 
 cause, are glowingly depicted in the remonstrance of 
 Haggai with that people, upon their return from captivi- 
 ty, for their neglect to build the house of God, under the 
 pretence that the time was not come to do it. The founda- 
 tion of this pica for delay was, probably, that they felt 
 themselves yet too poor to begin so great a work, and 
 thought proper to wait till they had recovered somewhat 
 from the effects of their bondage. But God did not deem 
 this excuse satisfactory, and therefore commissioned Hag- 
 gai, to announce to.them, thatso far from.their being too 
 
276 MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 poor to build a house for Him, the only cause of their 
 poverty was that they neglected this work. Thus speak- 
 eth the Lord of hosts, saying : This people say, The 
 time is not come, the time that the Lord's house should* 
 be built. Then came the word of the Lord by Haggai, 
 the prophet, saying, Is it time for you, O ye, to dwell in 
 your ceiled houses, and this house lie waste? Now 
 therefore, thus saith the Lord of hosts, Consider your 
 ways. That is, look for a moment at the facts of the 
 case. Yo have sown much, and bring in little ; ye eat, 
 but ye have not enough ; ye drink, but ye are not filled- 
 with drink ; ye clothe you, but there is none warm ; and 
 he that earneth wages, earneth wages to put it into a bag 
 with holes. Thus saith the Lord of hosts. Consider your 
 ways. Go up to the mountain and bring wood, and build 
 the house ; and I will take pleasure in it, and I will be- 
 glorified, saith the Lord. Ye looked for much, and lo, it 
 came to little ; and when ye brought it home, I did blow 
 upon it. Why ? saith the Lord of hosts ; because of 
 mine house that is waste, and ye run every man unto his- 
 own house. Therefore, for this cause the heaven over 
 you is stayed from dew, and the earth is stayed from her 
 fruit. And I called for a drought upon the land, and 
 upon the mountains, and upon the corn, and upon the new 
 wine, and upon the oil, and. upon that which the ground, 
 bringeth forth, and upon men and upon cattle, and upoa 
 all the labor of the hands.* Could we pry into all the 
 mysteries of cause and effect, how many cases should, wq 
 
 ♦ Haggai i.. 2—11.. 
 
PROMISES OF TEMPORAL REWARD, 277 
 
 find exactly answering to the description here given, in 
 which individuals bring blight, disaster, and destitution 
 upon themselves by withholding from the cause of God 
 and of humanity, under pretence of being unable to give ! 
 God brings the very evils upon them which they falsely 
 plead as an excuse for their parsimony ! Another pro- 
 phet traced the curse which hung over the nation at 
 another period to the same cause. Will a man rob God ? 
 Yet ye say, wherein have we robbed thee ? In tithes 
 and in offerings. Ye are cursed with a curse, for ye have 
 robbed me, even this whole nation.* God was as prompt 
 to punish the covetousness of his people as he was to 
 reward their liberality. 
 
 His rewards of this kind were not confined to his 
 ancient people ; but are now as sure as ever. For God> 
 observes an apostle, is not unrighteous to forget our work 
 and labor of love, which we have showed towards his 
 name in that we have ministered to the saints, and do 
 minister,f What he requires even of the backslider and 
 wandering, is not so much confessions in words, or a return 
 to the rituals of religion, as that they should deal their 
 bread to the hungry ; that they bring the poor that are 
 cast out to their house ; and that they hide not themselves 
 from their own flesh. Then shall their light break forth 
 as the morning, and their darkness shall be as the noon- 
 day4 Thus, the Scriptures afford abundant security 
 that those who bind mercy and truth about their necks — 
 who write them upon the table of their hearts, and who 
 
 ♦ Mal.Jiii, 8,^9. t Heb. vi. 10. t Isa. Iviii. 7, 8. 
 
 24 
 
278 MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 never forsake them — shall find favor and good under- 
 standing in the sight of men. 
 
 With this array of Scripture testimony, drawn indis- 
 criminately from the Old and New Testaments, to esta- 
 blish the connection between Christian liberality and 
 greater worldly prosperity, we feel ourselves prepared to 
 meet any argument or objection against the position, that 
 may be forged on the anvil of covetousness or unbelief. — 
 Having the sanction of a * thus saith the Lord,' affixed to 
 it, it matters not what attempts may be made to invalidate 
 its truth by a seeming array of counteracting facts. Till 
 heaven and earth pass away, not one jot or tittle of his 
 word shall fail. Let God be true, and every man a liar. 
 
 Indeed, we are willing to leave it to the reflection of 
 candid men, whether the drift of what we witness in reai 
 life does not rather confirm this principle ? In what town 
 or city do we see most wealth and worldly enjoyment? 
 In the one where most is expended to build hospitals for 
 the sick, almshouses for the poor, schools for the instruc- 
 tion of ignorant children, to promote the institutions of 
 religion and learning, and to carry into execution the 
 most efficient plans of beneficence ? or, in the one where 
 avarice leaves the sick to perish, the poor to pine with 
 hopeless want, ignorant groups of half-starved children 
 destitute of the means of instruction, and for that very rea- 
 son exhibiting a fearful precocity in crime, and in which 
 deeds of mercy are unknown 1 Whose worldly prospects 
 would you prefer, those of the frigid miser, or of the man 
 who cherishes an active sympathy in the woes of his fel- 
 low men ? There can be no mistake on this point. Cha* 
 
TROMISES OF TEMPORAL REWARD. 279 
 
 rity judiciously exercised, though it be at great expense ^ 
 does bring its full reward of present prosperity and enjoy, 
 raent. The merciful man doeth good to his own soul ; — 
 but he that is cruel, troubleth his own flesh.* 
 
 Nor do the Scriptures omit to state cases in which 
 pious gratuities come attended with a present reward. — 
 That of God's ancient people we have already noticed. 
 Added to this, are those of the two women of Zarephath, 
 and Shunem, of Jacob, Job, Publius and others. The 
 little cake which the widow of Zarephath first baked for 
 the prophet from her scanty store, brought such an instant 
 blessing upon her barrel of meal and her cruise of oil, 
 that the meal was not wasted, neither did the oil fail, till 
 the day that God brought rain upon the earth, and the 
 famine ceased its ravages. The intimacy with the Lord's 
 prophet, which her hospitality was the means of securing, 
 saved her son also, whom death had smitten, and thus caused 
 her heart to sing for joy.f And for the kindness which 
 the Shunamite showed to Elisha in entertaining him, and 
 preparing for him a chamber, she was rewarded by the 
 gift of a son, by the restoration of that son to life, by 
 being forewarned of an approaching famine in season to 
 prepare for it, and finally by the recovery of her lost 
 inheritance. :f 
 
 The advantages accruing to these pious females from 
 opening their hearts and stores to good men as such, were 
 a hundred fold more valuable at this present time, than 
 all they expended ; and the instruction which distilled 
 
 * Prov. iii. 3, 4. t 1 Kings xvii. t 2 Kings, chaps, iv. and viii. 
 
280 MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 Upon them like dew from the lips of the Lord's prophets, 
 doubtless rendered them fruitful in those undying virtues 
 which ended in eternal life. Now, all this good would 
 have been withheld, but for the spirit of generous sacrifice 
 of which these saintly women were possessed. 
 
 And the vow to devote to God a tenth of all, with 
 which Jacob began his career, instead of making him 
 poor, caused him to increase exceedingly, so that he had 
 much cattle, and maid-servants, and men-servants, and 
 camels, and asses.* The promptitude with which Noah 
 exhausted his, resources upon the ark, in obedience to a 
 divine call, secured him and his family from the destruc- 
 tion that came upon the old world, and made him the 
 starting point of a new race to people the earth. By 
 giving up all, he gained all. 
 
 The former years of Job had not only been distin- 
 guished for an uncommon share of prosperity, but for a 
 princely and munificent charity to the sons of sorrow and 
 want. The blessing of them that were ready to perish 
 came upon him, and he caused the widow's heart to sing 
 for joy. He was eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame ; 
 he was a father to the poor, and the cause which he knew 
 not he searched out.f And though for a time, to try his 
 faith and patience, the dark wave of adversity rolled over 
 him, bearing away health, property, portion after por- 
 tion, till all was gone, friends, and all — but the conscious- 
 ness of his integrity, and the firmness of his hope in God ; 
 yet his possessions, honors, and prosperity, were more 
 
 * Gen. XXX. 4S. i Job xxix. 
 
PROMISES OF TEMPORAL REWARD. 281 
 
 than restored to him in the end. So the Lord blessed the 
 latter end of Job more than the beginning — for he had 
 fourteen thousand sheep, and six thousand camels, and a 
 thousand yoke of oxen, and a thousand she asses.* Like 
 the phoenix, he rose from the ashes of desolation, clad in the 
 charms of renovated life, and vigorous with immortal hope. 
 We might go on multiplying cases like these from the 
 Scriptures, and from the facts of real life, the present age 
 being prolific in those that would be in point ; but we 
 shall dismiss the subject with the statement of a single case 
 of a more recent date. 
 
 B , when a young man of nineteen, came to the 
 
 city of without money or friends, but with a charac- 
 ter formed to virtue and intelligence under the best influ- 
 ences of a New England village. At first his mind was 
 confused amid the throng of men and din of business in a 
 great city ; and anxious to dissipate the gloom that came 
 over his feelings, as well as to obey the dictates of con- 
 science, he walked out the first Sabbath after his arrival 
 to find a church, and chanced to fall into one of which Dr. 
 was pastor. It proved one of the doctor's hap- 
 piest efforts ; his attention was riveted ; he had never heard 
 the like before, and his mind was thrown upon a track of 
 thought entirely new. He went again and again, and the 
 more he went the more interested he became, till at length 
 he was led gradually to renounce his sins and repose in 
 the merits of Christ for salvation. He sought an inter- 
 view with the doctor, who encouraged his hopes— ex- 
 
 * Job xlii. 12. 
 24* 
 
282 MOTIVES — PROMISES. 
 
 plained to him the way of the Lord more perfectly, and 
 ultimately admitted him as a member of his church. 
 
 B advanced rapidly in a knowledge of religion and 
 
 business, growing in favor with God and man ; and when 
 he entered into trade for himself, it was with the secret 
 determination, to which he ever afterwards adhered, of 
 devoting a certain proportion of the proceeds to God. His 
 success was unexampled, and in the short space of twelve 
 years he had given to religious objects more than forty 
 thousand dollars ; and, dying at an early age, he left in 
 his will about the same amount to be thus appropriated, 
 besides leaving an ample provision for his family. The 
 proverb was exemplified in him, that, * the liberal deviseth 
 liberal things, and by liberal things shall he stand.' We 
 might multiply examples like this from all the depart- 
 ments of business, but to avoid swelling the limits of our 
 work, we prefer to leave them for the research and 
 reflection of the reader to supply. This kind of evidence 
 is tangible, cogent, and places it beyond reasonable doubt 
 that the exercise of a judicious, scriptural, and untiring 
 liberality in the use of earthly treasure, will be followed 
 with a blessing upon the basket and the store. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Further motives to beneficence. 
 
 Having brought to view those principles in nature 
 and revelation in which the duty under consideration is 
 founded, we come now to a few remaining topics, with 
 which we propose to close our remarks on this branch of 
 our work, and then leave it for those who have attended 
 to them to determine, with their conscience and their God, 
 how far they will submit to the divine claims on this 
 point. We hope it will be borne in noind, that as the 
 Scriptures invariably adhere to the design of affecting 
 practice, as well as faith, and of instructing in righteous- 
 ness, as well as being profitable for doctrine, so our ob- 
 ject is the same. What are arguments without convic- 
 tion? What is conviction without practice ? To be 
 benefited by truth, it must be received into the mind, must 
 be inwardly digested, and incorporated with the ele- 
 ments of our being ; and thus, must leave its deep traces 
 upon our character and conduct. Truths like those 
 
284 FURTHER MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 which we have considered, should they take effect upon 
 us, can scarcely fail of making our lives useful. Those 
 who, in addition to their own support, live and labor for 
 the means of instruction to the ignorant, of salvation to 
 the lost, and of drying the tears of orphan helplessness, and 
 widowed sorrow, will be sure to leave, at their death, 
 the world in a happier condition than they found it. 
 
 Among the further motives to beneficence in the use 
 of money which the Scriptures furnish, it is not the least 
 considerable that they represent it as lelonging to a bright 
 constellation of virtues^ in which it shines as a star of the 
 first magnitude. It finds place among that assemblage of 
 excellences with which they paint an esteemed charac- 
 ter. 
 
 The truly touching story of the good Samaritan, by 
 which our Saviour shows what constitutes a neighbor and 
 friend, stands forever as an eloquent defence of an effi- 
 cient sympathy in the miseries of the afl^icted.* In the 
 terms of commendation also, in which Onesimus, Boaz, 
 Dorcas, Cornelius, the Macedonian and Achaian converts, 
 ' a virtuous woman,' and others are spoken of, the virtue un- 
 der consideration finds a prominent place. In invoking 
 mercy on the house of Onesiphorus, the apostle assigns this 
 as the reason, that he oft refreshed me, was not ashamed 
 of my chain, but sought me out very diligently when he 
 was in Rome.f The hospitality of Boaz to Ruth when 
 she was in trouble, in furnishing her food till she was satis- 
 fied, and permitting her to glean, even among the sheaves, 
 
 ♦ Luke X. 30-37. t 1 1 Tim. i, 16-18, 
 
FURTHER MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 285 
 
 though actions in themselves minute, are recorded with 
 that beautiful simplicity, for which the inspired pages are 
 distinguished.* And what is more worthy to be transmit- 
 ted to posterity, than deeds of mercy to widowed penury 
 and sorrow ? Had history made it an object to chronicle 
 such events, instead of those which have been connected 
 with the havoc of human life, it would have shed a more 
 genial influence over succeeding ages. But by a strange 
 infatuation, men have united in dooming to forgetfulness 
 all the brighter visions of the past, and in consigning to 
 immortality only deeds that were dyed in blood. It is re- 
 corded in praise of Cornelius, that he gave much alms 
 to the people ; of Dorcas, that she was full of good 
 works and aim-deeds which she did and of the * virtu- 
 ous woman,' that she stretcheth out her hand to the poor, 
 yea, she reacheth forth her hand to the needy. t The 
 apostle, in commending a certain portion of the early 
 church, observes. It hath pleased them of Macedonia and 
 Achaia to make a certain contribution to the poor saints 
 at Jerusalem. f 
 
 As it is from the traits which a people ascribe to cha- 
 racters whom they unite to commend, that their views of 
 merit and demerit may be learned, so the praises which 
 the Scriptures bestow upon a prompt and liberal exercise 
 of charity to the afflicted, and the high place which they 
 uniformly assign to it among the virtues, is as clear an 
 indication of their sentiment as express precept. Indeed, 
 every impartial mind who shall examine the word of 
 
 * Ruth ii. 14—16. t Acts x. 2., and ix. 36. Prov. xxxi. 20. 
 
 $ Rom. XV. 26. 
 
286 FURTHER MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 God with this subject in view, can hardly fail of being 
 convinced, that the religion it inculcates can no more be 
 acted upon without plans of doing good to the bodies and 
 souls of men, than it can be without love to God and faith 
 in Christ. To take from it its interest in the alleviation of 
 suffering is like extracting from the sunbeams their genial 
 warmth, and leaving nought but an empty glare of light. 
 
 We are further persuaded to the practice of this vir- 
 tue by the dark and appalling ideas with which a contempt 
 of the claims of humanity is associated^ and the fearful 
 punishment with which it is threatened. As men may be 
 known by the company they keep, so may the turpitude of 
 any practice, by the crimes with which it is associated in 
 the Scriptures. The vile person will speak villany, and 
 his heart will work iniquity, to practise hypocrisy, and to 
 utter error against the Lord, to make empty the soul of 
 the hungry ; and he will cause the drink of the thirsty to 
 fail. The instruments also of the churl are evil ; he 
 deviseth wicked devices to destroy the poor with lying 
 words, even when the needy speaketh right.* Here vil- 
 lany, hypocrisy, blasphemy, and utter abandonment to 
 evil ; a character full of iniquity and wicked devices, are 
 associated with making empty the soul of the hungry, and 
 causing the drink of the thirsty to fail. The abuse of the 
 needy does not consist merely in defrauding them, but in 
 keeping back through covetousness, those means of tem- 
 poral comfort, mental improvement, and future salvation, 
 which God has put into our hands for their use. 
 
 * Isa. xxxii. 6, 7. 
 
FURTHER MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 287 
 
 The sin of Sodom, which is said to have been griev. 
 ous, consisted in pride, fullness of bread, and abundance of 
 idleness ; or the cruel, libidinous, and gluttonous habits 
 consequent thereupon ; and moreover, it was connected with 
 a neglect to strengthen the hands of the poor and needy.* 
 
 " The extremes of luxury have a tendency to harden 
 the human mind," to steel it against sympathy in suffer- 
 ing ; and hence, " it was from the bowl and the banquet, 
 that Nero issued forth to fiddle to the flames of Rome." We 
 have many examples of the utter contempt of the misfortunes 
 with which others are visited, that is bred by habitual in- 
 dulgence in the more degrading vices. Those who have 
 given loose reins to lust, for instance, can wind with hell- 
 ish art into the confidence of the widowed, grief-stricken 
 mother, on purpose to rob her only daughter of all that 
 makes character desirable ; and then, when their dark 
 designs are accomplished, exult at the spectacle of wretch- 
 edness which they have produced, as an evidence of their 
 superior skill ! Alas, there are but too many features in 
 the human character, that might lead one to mistake men 
 for demons, and earth for hell ! And these are the vices 
 which stand associated with a disregard of the claims of 
 beneficence ! 
 
 With how much propriety, therefore, the heaviest 
 judgments are denounced in the Scriptures against those 
 who are guilty of this neglect, every one may see. He 
 shall have judgment without mercy that hath showed no 
 
 * Ezek. xvi. 49, 50. Gen. xviii. 20. That the passage in Ezekiel 
 is mystically applied to one of the nations of his time, docs cot 
 aflfect the purpose for which we quote it. 
 
288 FURTHER MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 mercy, and mercy rejoiceth against judgment.* Those 
 who thrust mercy from them, shall be thrust from mercy ; 
 and though they call, they shall not be heard ; and though 
 they seek it early, they shall not find it. This is a fear- 
 ful threatening, and was most fearfully realized in the 
 case of the rich man, who, in his life time, heeded not the 
 wants of Lazarus, at his gate full of sores, and desiring to 
 be fed with the crumbs that fell from his table. For when 
 he died, in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torments, 
 and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom— 
 and he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on 
 me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his fin- 
 ger in water, and cool my tongue ; for I am tormented in 
 • this flame. But the awful reply confirmed the truth that 
 he shall have judgment without mercy that hath showed 
 no mercy ; Son, remember, that thou in thy life time 
 hadst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things — 
 but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented. Oh, 
 who can measure the punishment of those who, deaf to 
 the calls of mercy here, shall find mercy deaf to their calls 
 hereafler.| Whoso stoppeth his ears at the cry of the 
 poor, he shall cry himself, but shall not be heard. f 
 
 In the solemn account, also, which our Saviour gives 
 of the doom of the finally impenitent, it is remarkable that 
 each of the five charges enumerated against them, has 
 reference to a neglect of the duties of charity and benefi- 
 cence. Then shall the King say to them on his left 
 hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, 
 
 ♦ Jer. ii. 13. t Luke xvi. 19-31. t Prov. xxi. 13. 
 
FURTHER MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 289 
 
 prepared for the devil and his angels — for I was an hun. 
 gered, and ye gave me no meat ; I was thirsty, and ye 
 gave me no drink ; I was a stranger, and ye took me not 
 in ; naked, and ye clothed me not ; sick and in prison, 
 and ye visited me not. Then shall they also answer him, 
 saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, or athirst, 
 or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not 
 minister -unto thee? Then shall he answer them, saying, 
 Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye did it not to one of 
 the least of these my brethren, ye did it not to me. And 
 these shall go away into everlasting punishment.* No- 
 thing more directly in point could be imagined. The 
 doom of sinners to hell will find its reason and propriety 
 in their habitual disregard of the claims of beneficence.—' 
 Let those who have no plans of doing good with their 
 money, consider this and be alarmed. 
 
 Finally, the practice o^ this duty will have a most 
 favoralle influence upon our future destination. The 
 Scriptures unequivocally encourage the hope that money 
 thus expended will be like a profitable investment, the 
 proceeds of which will be realized when the soul enters 
 upon the eternal state. Our Saviour teaches us the true 
 secret of making it productive when he says. Make to 
 yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, 
 [that is, of riches, as all commentators agree,] that when 
 ye fail, [at death,] they may receive you into everlasting 
 habitations.! " What our Lord here exhorts us to," ob- 
 serves Henry, " is to provide for our comfortable recep* 
 tion to the happiness of another world, by making good use 
 
 * Matt. XXV. 41—46. t Luke xvi. 9. 
 
 25 
 
2^0 FURTHER MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 of our possessions and enjoyments in this world. It is the 
 wisdom of the men of this world so to manage their money, 
 as that they may have the benefit of it hereafter, and not for 
 the present only ; therefore they put it out to interest, buy 
 land with it, put it into this or the other fund. Now, we 
 should learn of them to make use of our money, so as that 
 we may be the better for it in another world ; so cast it 
 upon the waters, as that we may find it after many days." 
 " As the cries of the oppressed and neglected poor will 
 testify against unfaithful stewards to their condemnation," 
 says Scott on this passage, " so the prayers of widows 
 and orphans, for their pious benefactors, will testify for 
 them, that they were faithful ; and such believers as have 
 died before them, may be considered as standing ready to 
 welcome their benefactors to their everlasting habitation* 
 when they quit this world." 
 
 Upon the failure or wreck of our earthly fortunes at 
 death, what a privilege it would be to have so used them» 
 that hundreds of pious poor, who were fed, taught the way 
 of salvation, or otherwise benefited by our gratuities, 
 already in heaven, with open arms should await our arrival, 
 prepared to testify to our beneficence, and receive us with 
 joy to their eternal abodes. Oh, money so used will be 
 found to have been our most productive earthly invest- 
 ment, yielding to us a thousand-fold ! No encouragement 
 concerning the good influence upon our future state of 
 being which money religiously appropriated may be made 
 to exert, could be more explicit than what we find in these 
 words of our Saviour. 
 
 The same sentiment is corroborated by the apostle 
 
FURTHER MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 291 
 
 when he states as a motive for the rich to do good with 
 their money, that they would thus lay up in store a good 
 foundation against the time to come, that they might lay 
 hold on eternal life.* Doing good, being rich ii^ood 
 works, ready to distribute, willing to communicate, would 
 be like laying by money for future use, which should be 
 realized in heaven , enabling them to lay hold on eternal 
 life. Such a motive could have no weight with any but 
 those who have Christ begotten within them, the hope of 
 glory. To them, however, what a privilege is it to 
 reflect, when working with their hands, or prosecuting 
 plans of business, that they can serve Christ and benefit 
 men by what they acquire ; and thus make it subservient 
 to their eternal joy and rest in the kingdom of God. Oh, 
 such a reflection sweetens earthly . labor and fatigue ! A 
 life spent in thus making material objects the means of 
 spiritual good to ourselves and others, will fill heaven with 
 delightful reminiscences of our earthly career ! But if 
 we were doomed to this continual drudgery in the world's 
 service, without having the prospect of gaining any thing 
 more than food and raiment for these bodies, upon which 
 worms are so soon to riot, how could a man with his heart 
 in heaven endure it ? But when upon our farms, in our 
 workshops, or counting-rooms, we can feel that we are 
 acquiring the means of alleviating distress, of dissipating 
 ignorance, and of throwing the genial rays of religion all 
 abroad ; yea, of performing a service which Christ will 
 own and approve when we meet him in heaven ; — this 
 
 * 1 Tim. vi. 16. 
 
292 FURTHER MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 changes the aspect of our drudgery, and more than recon- 
 ciles us to our lot. 
 
 It is owing, probably, to the limited extent to which 
 this^ty and privilege is understood among Christians, 
 thatS) many, both male and female, as soon as they feel 
 the fervor of love to Christ sigh for some such signal ser- 
 vice as the ministry, or a missionary life. How natural 
 a^re these feelings, when the calling of the minister or mis- 
 sionary is the only one whose connection with doing good 
 IS distinctly perceived ! But as soon as their eyes are 
 opened, and their hearts are enlarged to see and feel the 
 bearing upon this object which every honorable calling 
 may be made to exert, they can hardly fail to be as well 
 satisfied with it in their most religious moments, as at any 
 other time. The benevolent designs of our Saviour in 
 reference to this world, can no more be accomplished 
 without bringing all the consistent callings of this life into 
 subordination to his reign, than without ministerial and 
 missionary labor. Let this be felt, and all piety will no 
 longer centre in a single point, but will spread its healing 
 influences over the whole extent of human interests and 
 labors. 
 
 One thing thou lackest, said Christ to the rich young 
 moralist, go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give 
 to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; 
 thus encouraging him to hope that the sacrifice of his 
 money upon the altar of beneficence would be followed by 
 a treasure in heaven.* Sell that ye have, and give alms 
 
 * Mark x. 21, 
 
FURTHER MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 293 
 
 — provide yourselves bags which wax not old, a treasure 
 in the heavens that faileth not ; where no thief approach- 
 eth, neither moth corrupteth.* But when thou makest a 
 feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind, and 
 thou shalt be blessed, for they cannot recompense thee ; 
 for thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the 
 just.-f Thus, the same cheering promise is often repeated 
 to give it the greatest possible assurance. 
 
 And our Saviour in representing the final scene of 
 judgment, and the welcome which the saints shall receive 
 into paradise, makes the practice of beneficence on earth 
 the grand evidence of their being worthy of so great a 
 reward. Then shall the King say unto them on his right 
 hand. Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom 
 prepared for you from the foundation of the world ; for I 
 was an hungered, and ye gave me meat — I was thirsty, 
 and ye gave me drink — I was a stranger and ye took me in 
 — naked, and ye clothed me — I was sick, and ye visited me 
 — I was in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the 
 righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee 
 an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee 
 drink ? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in 1 
 or naked, and clothed thee ? Or when saw we thee sick, 
 or in prison, and came unto thee 1 And the King shall 
 answer and say unto them. Verily , I say unto you, inas- 
 much as ye have done it unto the least of these my breth- 
 ren, ye have done it unto me. And these shall enter 
 into life eternal. J This passage sets the favorable influ- 
 
 ♦ Luke xii. 33. t Luke xiv. 13, 14. % Matt. xxv. 34—40. 
 
 25* 
 
294 FURTHER MOTIVES TO BENEFICENCE. 
 
 ence of our pious gratuities on earth, upon our future des- 
 tination, in a light too clear to admit of doubt, or to need 
 illustration. What a field is thus opened before us in the 
 use and pursuit of earthly treasure ! From this point of 
 observation, the drudgery of worldly callings, so far from 
 appearing unsuitable to the purity and spirituality of the 
 Christian character, is highly honorable, and should be 
 assumed with the same feelings of devotion as more spirit- 
 ual labors. If properly directed, they will advance the 
 best interests of human society — will be connected with 
 the fairest hopes of the church, and with all that is exalted 
 and glorious in the rewards of heaven. 
 
 How therefore can we longer controvert the princi- 
 ple in theory, or resist it in practice, that our whole duty 
 cannot be done with our money, unless we act upon sys- 
 tem in expending a liberal proportion of it, without the 
 prospect of remuneration,* in purchasing for others the 
 same advantages which we need for ourselves? How 
 can a Christian longer think of retaining his standing as 
 such, without acting in accordance with the Scriptures on 
 this point ? How can churches excuse themselves in con- 
 niving at this sin ? Till this matter is taken up and 
 something is done to supercede the present forced mea- 
 sures of obtaining the contributions of the public to bene- 
 volent objects, all our plans of doing good will be fettered, 
 and we shall be in danger of a reaction that will throw 
 the interests of the church and the cause of man a cen. 
 tury back upon the dial of the world. 
 
 * When we say, without the prospect of remuneration, we mean, 
 without the prospect of such a return as one man expects from ano- 
 ther for a value received. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 General remarks upon plans of benevolent enterprise. 
 
 It will be seen by the reader of the foregoing pages, 
 that the design has been to set the duty of systematic be- 
 neficence in the light of reason and the Scriptures, and 
 not to point out the objects towards which it should be 
 exercised, or the channels through which it should flow. 
 We cannot feel satisfied, however, to dismiss the subject 
 without appending a few thoughts upon these topics. 
 Every thing depends upon having the direction and ap- 
 propriation of benevolent funds, such as to secure public 
 confidence. Whatever conviction may exist in the 
 church of the duty of acting on the principles advocated 
 in these pages, it could hardly be expected that they 
 would gain much influence, unless the channels were 
 open and every thing duly prepared to give pious contri- 
 butions an economical and efficient destination. The 
 permanency of such contributions depends to a great ex- 
 tent upon the men who have the control of them, upon 
 the measures adopted, and the results which they are 
 able to show. 
 
 In regard to the objects of beneficence, little need be 
 
296 OBJECTS OF BENEFICENCE. 
 
 said. We have taken it for granted in the preceding 
 pages, that the improvement of the human condition phy- 
 sically, intellectually, and morally, is the point to which 
 our pious gratuities should tend. The design of the 
 ritual dispensations being answered in Him to whose com- 
 ing they prepared the way, there is no further need of 
 sacrificing treasure upon their objects. Censers of gold, 
 and incense of costly admixture, are no longer necessary 
 to represent the odor of prayer, or the sweet influences of 
 heaven upon man ; nor are hecatombs of burning victims 
 required to teach the doctrine of remission by the blood of 
 the cross. The daylight exhibition which is now made 
 of these things, has superseded the necessity of contem- 
 plating them by lunar reflection. Religion, as it is no w 
 revealed, makes no requirement of heavy expenditure upon 
 its exterior adorning. If a people, therefore, choose to lay 
 out heavy sums of money upon a house of worship and its 
 fixtures, for the purpose of embellishing their town, or to 
 keep pace with the refinements of art, it is no more to be 
 set to the account of religion itself, than what they expend 
 upon pleasure grounds, monuments, or other works of 
 ornament. So much as is necessary to secure accommo- 
 dations for the worship of God — and these should doubt- 
 less be fully equal to the general style of architecture 
 among the people by whom they are provided — or so 
 much as results from a pious wish to attract the giddy 
 throng within the limit of the preacher's voice, may be 
 set to the account of religion. Though, as before 
 rem arked, it is by no means a charity, when a man and 
 his family reap in their own person the consequent benefit. 
 
OBJECTS OF BENEFICENCE. 297 
 
 As religion, therefore, makes few exactions upon us 
 for its rituals or external adorning, it leaves us the more 
 to expend upon the improvement of the human character 
 and condition. This is the point to which every gratuity 
 and every rill of mercy should flow. And, indeed, they 
 ought to have reference chiefly to the moral and intel- 
 lectual character of men. 
 
 The prevalence of Christianity has wrought so great 
 a change in the policy of governments, that, whereas 
 before its establishment they made no provision for the 
 alleviation of suffering in any of its forms, now hospitals 
 for the sick, alms-houses for the poor, asylums for the 
 insane, personal comfort even for prisoners, and many other 
 plans of beneficence are subjects of legislative patronage. 
 It is judiciously observed by a certain writer, that " public 
 charitlcis and benevolent associations for the gratuitous 
 relief of every species of distress, are peculiar to Christi- 
 anity ; no other system of civil or religious polity has oru 
 ginated them ; they form its brightest praise and charac 
 teristic feature ; an order of benevolence so distinguished 
 and so exalted, looking before and after, could no more 
 have preceded revelation," than vegetation the genial 
 warmth of heaven. In addition to the care and patronage 
 which governments exercise over plans of physical allevi- 
 ation, are their provisions of instruction in the rudiments of 
 learning, and even in its higher departments. And we 
 have reason to expect that they will in future do still more 
 in this way, than they are now doing. The same causes 
 which have wrought the past change in their policy, if 
 allowed to operate unchecked, would lead to vastly more 
 
298 PLANS OF BENEVOLENT EFFORT. 
 
 efficient measures for extending education and elevating 
 the mass of mind. 
 
 Are rulers so stupid as to expect from matter laurels 
 ttiore unfading than from the undying mind ? Is not the 
 embellishing of intellect, the teaching of its unfledged 
 energies to soar with eagle pinion to the skies, and the 
 lighting up with the beams of knowledge every hamlet of 
 a nation, a more illustrious field for legislative enactment, 
 than the removing of obstructions to its navigation ; the 
 leveling of its mountains ; the exalting of its valleys ; or 
 any other changes which it may effect upon its material 
 existence ? Oh, when will governments attain their pro- 
 per elevation as the means of unburdening human 
 nature of its woes, and of chiseling out its obscured veins 
 of intellectual power and pre-eminence ? The amount, 
 however, which they at present accomplish in this depart- 
 ment, leaves the church at liberty to be more select in her 
 objects of gratuitous expenditure, confining herself more 
 exclusively to the work of moral and religious improve- 
 ment. This is her appropriate field, the one assigned her 
 by her great Founder, though she should by no means 
 disdain to come down, when occasion calls, to the level of 
 physical alleviation, and to the most menial offices for the 
 good of mankind. 
 
 With these remarks upon the object of our pious con. 
 tributions we turn our attention to the channels through 
 which they should flow, or to plans of prosecuting the 
 work of beneficence. On this point it becomes us to 
 speak with caution. Far be it from us to disparage those 
 plans which now claim the support of the public. They 
 
PLANS OF BENEVOLENT EFFORT. 299 
 
 are, doubtless, as perfect as could be expected from the 
 recency of their origin, and the circumstances which have 
 attended their progress. That the consequences of im- 
 maturity, of crude conceptions carried into practice by 
 inexperienced hands, and of a too general absence of 
 system, should occasionally show themselves, is what 
 nothing short of a miracle could have prevented. The 
 danger is lest these evils, unless checked in the infancy 
 of our plans, should distort and enfeeble their maturity, 
 and thus occasion even centuries of delay to the consuma- 
 tion at which we aim. No one can think of those distor- 
 tions, which, immediately after the death of the apostles, 
 appeared in the Christian church, but with concern for 
 the fate of every new scheme of benevolence and 
 mercy. If an institution so perfect, could be converted 
 to the purpose of bringing on a millenium of the thickest 
 darkness that ever hung over the human mind, what may 
 we not fear fi'om our crude and imperfect plans ? The 
 leaders of our benevolent enterprises should not forget 
 that they act for posterity ; and that the force of their 
 example will do as much to perpetuate the errors of their 
 system, as its excellences. Who will ever occupy so 
 advantageous a position for the correction of those errors 
 as the generation with whom the system itself took its 
 rise? Let us, therefore, labor, pray, and exert every 
 endeavor to leave with posterity a pure patrimony. 
 
 It is but of late that the present benevolent movement 
 took its rise. Yet, so great was the force of the causes 
 from which it originated, that it has already acquired 
 astonishing momentum, and has thrown its wake into 
 
300 PLANS OF BENEVOLENT EFFORT. 
 
 every section of the globe. It was long after the reform- 
 ation had shed its light upon the church, and she had 
 commenced coming up out of the wilderness, before she 
 began to take decided measures either for the alleviation 
 of suffering or the propagation of her faith. What with 
 warding off the attacks of Rome without, and quelling 
 the turbulent elements of schism within, she had, for a 
 century or two after that period, little remaining vigor or 
 leisure to embark in plans of conquest. The materials, 
 however, were collecting — by the study of the Scriptures 
 
 by the publications of pious men — by the example of a 
 
 few such spirits as Baxter, Whitefield, and others — by the 
 advance of the church in knowledge and holiness, and by 
 the general march of mind in the career of dignity and 
 improvement ; and as soon as the favorable crisis came, 
 they broke out into our present crude and unfinished forms 
 of benevolence. The origin of this movement cannot 
 perhaps, be better illustrated than by comparing it to 
 those convulsions which might be supposed to occur in the 
 material universe. It is as if the elements of combustion 
 collected in the heart of one of the planets in undefined 
 quantities, should suddenly explode, upheaving and dis- 
 parting its solid mass into a thousand formless parts 
 flying in their random courses through immensity, till 
 each should be brought to its proper bearing in the scale 
 of nature's forces, and, clothed again with verdure and 
 life, should describe its regular and appropriate orbit 
 through the boundless ether. Thus, the elements of the 
 present benevolent movement had for ages been collect- 
 ing under the solid surface of society, till, becoming ripe 
 
PLANS -OF BENEVOLENT EFFORT. 301 
 
 for combuslion, all that was needed to bring on an explosion 
 was the flinty contact of such spirits as Schwartz, Bucha- 
 nan, or Carey, and thus to throw the crude masses far and 
 wide. The work of regulating their motions, and cover- 
 ing them with order and beauty, requires time for its ac- 
 complishment. None but the unthinking can regard our 
 present systems of charity otherwise than in the light of 
 an experiment, to be altered and matured by the force of 
 future circumstances, till they shall have attained the 
 ideal of earthly perfection. 
 
 They are thrown out by a force, that, no longer able 
 to remain dormant, must give being to some sort of 
 movement ; but thanks to God, the powers we believe are 
 at work, that will in the end direct this movement into 
 the wisest and most beneficent orbits. Those who decry 
 It altogether because it is intermixed with eccentricity and 
 imperfection, might bettef vent their scorn at the appa- 
 rent irregularity of bodies moving under the force of 
 nature's laws ; or complain that a great river does not at 
 once arrange its deposites into the fairest, most seemly 
 and most elevated country in the world. The boasted 
 strength of these Sanballats and Tobiahs will end in im- 
 potence, and their puny efforts will go down to the scorn 
 of posterity. He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh ; 
 the Lord shall have them in derision. That intelligence 
 is advanced, morals improved, and piety increased by the 
 present benevolent efforts, at a rate beyond all parallel 
 since the first age of the church, notwithstanding the im- 
 maturity of our plans, is what no impartial mind can fail 
 of discovering. 
 
 26 
 
302 DIVISION OF TOPICS, 
 
 It may be impossible to form in anticipation, plans 
 that will be adapted to the varying circumstances of real 
 life. It is like attempting to anticipate the inequalities of 
 nature, in the formation of machinery that must prove 
 useless, if our anticipations are not correct. In this, as 
 in some branches of the arts, instead of working by gen- 
 eral rules, we must content ourselves to cut and fit. 
 Still there are certain principles of action that may be 
 settled beforehand as the outlines of the picture, leaving 
 its nicer shades and minuter features to be filled vp accord- 
 ing to circumstances. It is in reference to these broad 
 principles, therefore, that our present suggestions will be 
 made. The topics upon which we propose to touch, are 
 the origination of benevolent funds — manner of collecting 
 them — principle of concentration — and the executive man' 
 agement of such funds. 
 
SECTION I. 
 
 Origination of Benevolent Funds. 
 
 In regard to originating the funds of the church, the 
 true principle is to provide for it in the manner of her 
 organization. This may be thought impossible since the 
 church is not a civil polity, and consequently has no 
 power to control the management of estates. But this 
 objection is founded in mistake ; for though she is not 
 made a judge or a divider over the temporal affairs of 
 men, yet she has a right to prescribe her own terms of 
 membership. And if she cannot force men to a compli- 
 ance with those terms ; still, when they have once com- 
 plied from their own choice, she can then enforce their 
 assumed obligations on pain of a separation from her fel- 
 lowship. It is with this as with every thing else, the 
 obligation is not legal, but religious— not constrained, but 
 voluntary. If her members break the Sabbath, withdraw 
 from her assemblies, or commit any misdemeanor, the 
 church can do no more as such, than simply to separate 
 them from her fellowship. The rest, she must leave to 
 the civil authorities. And as much as this, she can do in 
 
304 ORIGINATION OF 
 
 relation to those who will adopt no system of beneficence 
 in the use of earthly substance. 
 
 Ecclesiastical organizations, to be conformed to the 
 primitive model, and to the genius of Christianity, must 
 be constructed, not merely with a view to the spiritual 
 edification of their own members, but for aggressive 
 movement upon the empire of darkness. Christ, the 
 Captain of our salvation, conducts his people to their final 
 glorification through contested ground, where their indi. 
 vidual force may be brought into concentrated action in 
 extending, still further and further, the limits of his own 
 dominion upon the precincts of sin and death. Their con- 
 version to himself was designed for the double purpose of 
 their own salvation, and that of a world lying in wicked- 
 ness. Had not the latter object been associated with the 
 former, their translation to more congenial climes, would, 
 doubtless, have been simultaneous with their conversion. 
 That there are Christians, therefore, to be organized into 
 churches left upon this battle-field of the two worlds, is 
 an indication, not to be mistaken, that God designs that 
 they should come into some system of concentrated and 
 aggressive movement upon those influences by which so 
 many millions of their race are enslaved and doomed to 
 hell. The church is an illuminated city upon a hill to 
 irradiate the present territory of darkness with truth, 
 virtue, 'peace, and good will towards men ; the salt of the 
 earth, embodying all the conservative principles which 
 Heaven has lodged among the moral elements of this 
 world. How then can she act in keeping with her cha- 
 racter, or the design of her Lord, without an organization 
 
' BENEVOLENT FUNDS. 305 
 
 adapted to bring into effective operation all her resources 
 of mind, and heart, and body, upon the single object of 
 subjecting the world to her dominion ? How can she re- 
 ceive to her bosom any but such as are willing to give 
 pledges of making her own advancement, or the salvation 
 of a lost world, a paramount object in their intellectual 
 efforts, in their moral influence, and in their physical 
 labors ? Her hopes of ultimate triumph over the nations 
 of the earth will prove as baseless as the fabric of a 
 dream, till the whole company of the redeemed thus sub- 
 ject their earthly existence to the brighter and holier 
 sanctions of their heavenly calling. 
 
 If the church were to require at least so much as the 
 adoption of a liberal system of beneficence in the use of 
 earthly substance as a condition of membership, it would 
 naturally lead to frequent exhibitions of the reasons of the 
 duty. These reasons would be spread out before candi- 
 dates for membership ; and thus conscience would be 
 brought to bear upon the subject, a subject which she has 
 hitherto hardly dared approach. By inspecting the con- 
 duct of members, also, whose benefactions are manifestly 
 disproportioned to their means, she would still further 
 arouse attention to the subject, and set the sin of such dis- 
 proportion in their true light. In this way a public con- 
 science on the subject will be created in the church, 
 which her members would be as fearful of violating, as 
 they now are to break the Sabbath, or to be guilty of 
 other misdemeanors. 
 
 A general effort should also be made to exhibit the 
 principles of the duty from the pulpit, and by every other 
 26* 
 
306 
 
 ORIGINATION OF 
 
 consistent means, that thus it may attain in our view its 
 proper standing in the list of our obligations. By such 
 exertions rigorously prosecuted, we might hope to produce 
 a constant flow into the treasury of the church of the ade- 
 quate means of doing good. 
 
 In the absence of such a spontaneous and regular sup- 
 ply, those pious and enterprising men, who could not rest 
 without attempting something for the good of mankind, 
 have contrived such plans for creating the means as expe- 
 dience has suggested. The public mind uninstructed on^ 
 the subject of giving, and no funds at command to carry 
 forward their benevolent designs, they have been forced 
 to divide their exertions between the two objects of crea- 
 ting the means, and appropriating them to the work of 
 human improvement. And of the two, it may be hard to 
 say which has proved the more difficult task. Their situ- 
 ation has been an arduous one ; and whatever defects 
 may have accompanied their movements, yet, being to a 
 certain extent the result of a defective organization of the 
 churches, and the want of instruction on the subject of giv- 
 ing, and hence unavoidable, a merciful God has seemed 
 to regard them with a lenient eye ; and has made them 
 the means of greater good, perhaps, than has been 
 accomplished by almost any other body of men since the 
 first age of Christianity. 
 
 Still, if the same men who have been chiefly concern- 
 ed in our benevolent operations for the last half century, 
 could have had the money which they have actually 
 receifed, poured into their hands by the spontaneous out- 
 burstinga of a charitable principle in the churches, so that 
 
BENEVOLENT FUNDS. 307 
 
 they should have been left free from the care and expense 
 of collecting it, how much more good might they have 
 done ! And if it was the duty of those with whom this 
 money originated, to give, in obedience to their call, it 
 was doubtless their duty to give without that call. The 
 object of a call upon the church for the means of doing 
 good is not to create the obligation of bestowing, but to 
 enforce an obligation which stands on a basis entirely 
 independent of the call itself If the church understood 
 her duty, therefore, and were disposed to do it, much of 
 the labor of agencies would be superseded. That it 
 would not be wholly superseded, however, we have rea- 
 son to believe, since agencies for the collection of benevo- 
 lent funds began with Paul and his coadjutors, and have 
 always been connected more or less with the prosperous 
 days of the church. But they might be confined within 
 narrow limits, and directed chiefly to the communication 
 of intelligence, if a benevolent principle could be esta" 
 blished among Christians, as the fountain from which all 
 their charitable contributions should flow. Hence, the 
 importance of seeking to establish such a principle, and of 
 making the serving of Christ by the liberal contribution of 
 money for the advancement of his cause, a prerequisite to 
 membership in the churches. 
 
 The course which we have hitherto been under a sort 
 of necessity of pursuing, is but too much like that of a 
 man who erects a splendid array of hydraulic machinery 
 in a ravine where no water exists, merely because he has 
 convinced himself that it is a place which some river 
 ought to select for its channel. When his machinery is 
 
308 ORIGINATION OF 
 
 once up, he exercises all the power of which he is master, 
 to force the streams in its neighborhood, to concentrate 
 their waters in that ravine for its benefit. Thus enter- 
 prising individuals form plans of benevolence that cannot 
 be prosecuted short of fifty or a hundred thousand dollars 
 a year ; when perhaps there is scarcely a dollar flowing 
 in that direction. But when their names become identi- 
 fied with the enterprise, and their hearts enlisted in it, 
 they will overturn every stone in the land, but that they 
 will find the means of carrying it forward. Agents are 
 sent out, not always of characters the most discreet, who 
 cry up the object to the stars ; represent it as casting 
 every collateral enterprise into the shade, and by pulling 
 upon every string succeed, perhaps, to collect barely suf- 
 ficient to keep the cause from sinking. 
 
 The temptations to corruption in such an agency are 
 almost too much for any human being. The agent, con- 
 scious that his reputation, and perhaps his living, depend 
 to a great extent upon the amount which he brings into 
 the treasury of his employers ; and finding an almost 
 universal reluctance on the part of the people to meet the 
 demand, one having this and another that excuse, sets 
 himself at work to make out as glowing a story concern- 
 ing his object as possible ; and to make it appropriate to 
 the various classes upon whom he has to operate, he now 
 touches the pride, — now the sympathy, — now the emula- 
 tion, — ^now the fear of a coming judgment, — now the van- 
 ity, — and now the self-respect of his auditors ; and watch- 
 ing his opportunity, when the crisis comes, he causes the 
 boxes or cards to fly through the house, lest a moment's 
 
BENEVOLENT FUNDS. 309 
 
 reflection should dispel the magic of his wand, and thus 
 diminish the amount of the contribution. At such an ap- 
 peal for money infidelity sits in the pulpit, and the devil 
 laughs in the gallery. The consequence is, that the peo- 
 ple, not being instructed in the duty of giving, and having 
 no principle of action, feel like a man after a fit of intox- 
 ication, vexed at their own excitement, and hence they 
 begrudge the money which it has caused them to bestow. 
 Far be it from us to represent such as the universa 
 course of agents ; we only say that they have too many 
 temptations to such a course, and it is but too often pur- 
 sued ; and unless a timely remedy is applied, a reac- 
 tion is to be feared that will throw the heaven-born cause 
 of charity, a century in the rear. There is too much art 
 and contrivance in such a method of originating benevo- 
 lent funds to be adapted to nature. The public will not 
 long endure to be thus jaded, teazed, and hood-winked. 
 We say these things, not in a tone of complaint, but be- 
 cause the cause of benevolence is too dear to our hearts, 
 to admit of our being silent to what threatens to do it so 
 serious an injury. 
 
 The church ought to be so instructed in the duty of 
 honoring the Lord with her substance, that pecuniary 
 gratuities for the good of the world should enter into the 
 ordinary calculations of life among her members ; and 
 then the- temptations to such ill-judged measures will no 
 longer exist. If there are streams under ground in a 
 country high above the level of the ocean, it may be an 
 object of enterprize to obstruct their subterranean passa- 
 ges, and to open channels for them to the upper world, that 
 
310 ORIGINATION OF FUNDS. 
 
 they may flow over the soil to enrich, refresh, and beau- 
 tify its living tenants. Such is our work in regard to the 
 origination of benevolent funds. There is money enough 
 in the hands of pious men for all our objects, that is now 
 left to flow through the subterranean channels of this 
 world. All we have to do is to afford them such instruc 
 tion in the duty of giving upon system, and to effect such 
 a change in the organization of the churches, that these 
 funds shall be spontaneously poured into the treasuries of 
 mercy and good will. And if they cannot be obtained 
 in this way, it is questionable whether the world would 
 not suffer more by obtaining them in any other, than it 
 would by doing without them altogether. Shall we sacri- 
 fice the interests of religion within our own borders, for 
 the sake of getting money to promote them in foreign 
 lands ? 
 
SECTION II. 
 
 Manner of collecting Benevolent Funds. 
 
 When the above principle for originating the means 
 of doing good comes to be established, it will be an easy 
 task to determine the manner of collecting them. There 
 is little difficulty in taking advantage of the face of a 
 country to change the bed of a river that flows through 
 it, compared with that of finding the sources of one that 
 does not exist. The difficulty of collecting under the 
 present system arises chiefly from the fact, that the one 
 who undertakes it has to originate what he collects. He 
 is both assessor and tax-gatherer — has to awaken the feel- 
 ing of obligation to give, as well as gather up the results 
 of that feeling, when it is awakened. It is owing to this 
 that qualities of such a peculiar character are necessary 
 to ensure success in an agency. That is no calling for a 
 man who is not adroit in touching the nice springs of 
 action, or who is ungifted with that witchery of persua- 
 tion, which ensures for the impulses of one's own mind 
 corresponding impulses in the mind of others. He must 
 be»'eagle-eyed in detecting the ruling passion of those upon 
 
312 MANNER OF COLLECTING 
 
 whom he would operate, that he may take advantage of 
 it in unclenching the avaricious passions, and causing 
 at least a temporary suspension of their power. And 
 should he perform his office even with an angel's skill, 
 those passions no sooner resume their hold, than he be- 
 comes an object of abhorrent recollections, and ten 
 thousand curses are his only earthly reward, perhaps, for 
 his self-denying labors. Though many an agent may 
 have had a better fate than we here assign him, yet 
 the number is not small whose experience will enable 
 them to testify to the reality of the evils which we depict. 
 Hence, there is a wrong either on the part of those who 
 embark in enterprises of benevolence, or in the feeling and 
 sentiment of the religious public. It must be manifest, 
 therefore, that a change is required ; but what it is, or 
 to how it is be effected, are problems of difficult solution. 
 We can point out a course which we think adapted to 
 reason and Scripture ; but how to bring those who seem 
 to be devoid of the one, and destitute of confidence in the 
 other, to pursue it, we cannot pretend to decypher. This 
 is, for the churches to make out their own gratuities with 
 only so much foreign aid as may be necessary to enable 
 them to distribute them judiciously ; to inspire them with 
 motives to a consistent liberality ; or occasionally, per- 
 haps, to assist them in making the collection itself. Such 
 appears to have been the course of the primitive churches. 
 The apostles brought objects of beneficence to their view, 
 either in person, or by letter, urged upon them the motives 
 to liberality, and sometimes sent brethren to assist in col- 
 lecting their bounty. At other times they were doubtless 
 
BENEVOLENT FUNDS. 313 
 
 left to make up their bounty without foreign aid. This 
 would appear from the apology which the apostle makes 
 to the Corinthian church for sending brethren among 
 them to assist in this service.* He informs them that he 
 did it, not because he suspected their willingness to meet 
 the call, but because he feared that they might not be 
 ready to do it ; and so, hie boasting of their liberality 
 should be found in vain. Lest haply they of Macedonia 
 come with me and find you unprepared, we (that we say 
 not you) should be ashamed in this same confident boast- 
 ing. Such an apology would not have been made, had it 
 been a uniform practice with Paul to send brethren to 
 assist the churches to collect their pious gratuities. Little 
 foreign aid would be necessary in the work of collection, 
 if the churches were properly instructed in their duty, and 
 a consistent beneficence were provided for in the terms of 
 their organization. 
 
 We should, no doubt, find it to our advantage to 
 improve upon the apostle's hint, to make our collections 
 on the first day of the week. The provision of a chest 
 like that which Jehoiada placed beside the altar, to receive 
 Ihe pious gratuities of the people who came into the tem- 
 ple, added to the present furniture of the Christian sanctu- 
 ary, to receive the portion in money or written pledges, 
 which each member of the church may have consecrated 
 to' God from the income of the week, that thus his alms 
 might go up with his prayers, however it might be regard- 
 ed by the fastidious and unthinking, would seem to be the 
 
 ^ * 2:Cor. ix. 
 
 27 
 
314 MANNER OF COLLECTING 
 
 most natural and appropriate method that could be de. 
 vised for bringing our offerings into the store-house. To 
 present thus regularly the means of alleviating wo, of 
 dispelling ignorance, and of sending abroad those influen- 
 ces by which the world is to be blessed and saved, and 
 in this way to give a tangible form to our mutual devo- 
 tions, would be a spectacle on which the eye of benignant 
 Heaven could not fail to loak with approbation. To think 
 of the millions who have passed from death unto life visit- 
 ing the sanctuary every Lord's day, with offerings of this 
 substantial character in their hands, to aid the triumph of 
 his cause who died for them and rose again, to effect the 
 salvation of those who are now dead in sin, as they once 
 were, must produce in every well regulated mind, feelings 
 of unspeakable suitableness, and unquaUfied approval. 
 The celestial messenger, whom the prayers and alms of 
 Cornelius won from his seat in heaven, with his shining 
 associates, would often seek their pastime among the 
 scenes of earth, did such spectacles exist to attract their 
 flight this way. Then, infidelity would be forced to con- 
 fess that the sacrifices of Christianity for the good of the 
 world are no longer an ideal picture, confined to the fic- 
 tions in which the history of its Founder is invested ; but 
 that, however unsubstantial may be the cause, the effect 
 is real. 
 
 Weekly contributions have this advantage, that they 
 keep the subject of charity as continually in view as our 
 prayers. It will also enable us to set the Lord before 
 our face in all our plans for acquiring or expending 
 worldly property. The longer it is neglected, the more 
 
BENEVOLENT FUNDS. 315 
 
 sordid we become, and the more unwilling to give the 
 claims of humanity due regard in the use of what God 
 bestows upon us. A man should no more think of paying 
 off his religious gratuities in the gross, than he would 
 think of offering his prayers in this manner. The fre- 
 quent repetition of them will afford the greater security 
 for the performaqce of the duty. If it be neglected some 
 months, it will run the hazard of a final neglect. Not 
 only so, it is by weekly contributions alone that any thing 
 like a fair proportion can be secured between the donation 
 and the ability of the donor. The income of a large portion 
 of church members, especially in the case of those with 
 whom it depends upon direct efforts, is subject to weekly 
 variations, and their gratuities to be " as God prospers 
 them," must undergo the same variations. Besides, this 
 plan will lead to habits of economy, which they could 
 hardly expect to acquire by any other course. It will 
 turn many a dollar, that would otherwise be wasted upon 
 trifling gratifications, into channels of mercy. Hence, by 
 retrenching upon that part of our expenses, which is of 
 the least use, we should perhaps make the gratuity a 
 positive benefit to our pecuniary interests. And the 
 whole amount of our charity for one year, divided into 
 fifty-two parts, and given on as many occasions, would 
 doubtless be attended by a less reduction to our income, 
 than half the amount given only once in the year. This 
 principle is true in theory, and will be found so in practice. 
 We all have many little ways of letting money slip from 
 us that might be prevented, if the consciousness that we 
 are only stewards of what we possess were ever present 
 
316 MANNER OF COLLECTING 
 
 to our minds, and we had a vivid sense of those wants 
 and woes which it might help us to relieve. And even 
 the bare consciousness that we are pledged to give away 
 one, two, or five dollars in a few days, will lead to cau- 
 tion in the use of our money, and so our habits of charity 
 will probably produce a saving, rather than a loss to our 
 estates.* 
 
 And the notion that it is unsuitable to have pecuniary 
 considerations come to view on the Lord's day, is owing 
 to the carnal habit of disassociating them from religion 
 itself. But, as we serve God with our voices, with our 
 time, with our attention, with our eyes and our ears on 
 that day, why may we not serve him also with our 
 money ? The apostle had no such nice fears of obtru- 
 ding worldly matters upon the sanctity of the Lord's 
 day, by making it the day of pecuniary offerings. Now 
 concerning the collection of the saints, are his words, — as 
 I have given order to the churches of Galatia, even so do 
 ye. Upon the Jirst day of the week let every one of you 
 lay by him in store, as God has prospered hinij that there 
 be no gathering when I come. And when I come, whom- 
 soever ye shall approve by your letters, them will I send 
 to bring your liberality unto Jerusalem. And if it be 
 
 * The course here marked out, is better suited to the poor and 
 the middle classes in regard to wealth, to which the greater part of 
 church-members belong, than to those whose extreme opulence 
 makes it their duty to support a missionary, or carry forward any 
 other enterprise of benevolence, out of their own resources. The 
 weekly offering on the part of these rich brethren, of their tens, their 
 twenties, or their fifties, need not foreclose the giving of their thou- 
 sands on rare occasions. 
 
BENEVOLENT FUNDS. 317 
 
 meet that I go also, they shall go with me. These 
 instructions, it would seem, were given a considerable 
 length of time before it was expected that the gra- 
 tuity of the Corinthian church would be made out. 
 The apostle, therefore, directed them to set about it 
 immediately, that thus the necessity of making the 
 collection after his arrival might be superseded. He, 
 doubtless, preferred to have the time that he should spend 
 among them for other objects, than the collection of their 
 gratuity for the poor at Jerusalem. To facilitate them 
 in this work, he directs them to lay by them in store, or 
 to deposite in a common treasury, on the Jirst day of each 
 week, an amount proportioned to the gains which each of 
 them may have enjoyed from his business on the previous 
 week, that in this way the whole amount might be ready 
 against his arrival. And then, he would send their offer, 
 ing to Jerusalem, by whomsoever they might think pro- 
 per to entrust with the service, and if it should bo 
 thought best for him to go also, he would take them with 
 him. 
 
 Now, why do not these instructions concerning the 
 manner of collecting pious and charitable offerings, con- 
 tain the force of law upon the Christian church ? They 
 had first been given to the churches of Galatia, which 
 was a province of considerable extent ; and are now 
 repeated to the church of Corinth. Hence they must 
 have been generally acted upon by the primitive churches. 
 They were delivered in the same tone of authority for 
 which all the apostolic decrees are distinguished ; they 
 settle principles founded in reason — that gratuities should 
 27* 
 
318 COLLECTING BENEVOLENT FUNDS. 
 
 often be repeated, and should be proportioned to the various 
 success of those by whom they are presented ; and why 
 they are not more generally followed by the Christian 
 church of the present age, in making her pious collec- 
 tions, does indeed appear singular. Thus, the Scriptures 
 concur with the dictates of common sense in rendering it 
 obligatory upon Christians to bring with their weekly 
 prayers to the sanctuary, their weekly gratuities, to 
 improve the character and condition of a lost world. Let 
 the churches adopt such a method of collecting the funds 
 of benevolence, and much of the present trouble and ex- 
 pense of agencies would be superseded ; while each 
 would be continually pouring forth its rill to swell the 
 river of mercy which is destined to flow to all lands. 
 
SECTION III 
 
 The principle of concentration as applied to charitable contributions. 
 
 The propriety of this principle in this apph'cation of it 
 is too well understood, perhaps, to require remarks. The 
 question is, whether a man who undertakes to act upon 
 a liberal system of beneficence shall do it wholly by 
 himself, giving only to those objects of want that come 
 under his immediate observation ; or whether he shall 
 do it in concert with others, by putting his gratuities into 
 a common treasury with theirs, to be subject to the ma- 
 nagement of such individuals as they may mutually 
 agree to entrust with the concern. The same reason for 
 concentration exists in this case, as for the union of 
 Christians in churches. A man may, perhaps, lead a 
 life of religion, who refrains from all connection with 
 other Christians ; but would he be as likely to do it ? If 
 he should, would not his good be confined to himself, or 
 circumscribed by limits too narrow to be of essential 
 service to the world ? 
 
 If all Christians were to act on this principle, the 
 design of our Saviour in organizing the church would 
 
320 PRINCIPLE OF CONCENTRATION 
 
 fail, and incalculable benefits would be lost to mankind. 
 They could no more conquer the world to their faith, or 
 even the smallest portion of it, in such a disconnected 
 state, than an unorganized mass of men could subdue a 
 well-disciplined army. In like manner, to give bread to 
 this hungry man, and lodging to that stranger; to furnish 
 this or that vagrant with money, who for aught we can 
 tell will make it the means of intoxication at the next 
 resort of drunkards, is very far from performing our 
 duty in the use of our income. Thousands of dollars 
 might be wasted in this manner, with no other result than 
 an actual diminution in the virtue and happiness of man- 
 kind. In a country like ours there is rarely a case in 
 which a wandering mendicant is deserving of charily. 
 He might earn his living if he would, or if he could not, 
 he might obtain it from the provision which our legisla- 
 tures make in such cases. There may be exceptions to 
 these remarks ; but as a general thing, a person who 
 wishes to perform a deed of mercy by himself had better 
 seek out the poor, the widow and the fatherless in his own 
 neighborhood, where he may watch over the use which 
 is made of his benefactions. 
 
 But, as to doing any thing efficiently for instructing 
 the ignorant and reclaiming the vicious, by acting thus 
 disconnectedly, it is utterly impossible. Few are able to 
 command the resources which are necessary to support 
 a missionary in a pagan land, or to carry forward any 
 other benevolent project. These things can be done 
 only by the united contributions of many ; and hence 
 could not be done at all were it not for the principle of 
 
APPLIED TO CHARITABLE FUNDS. 321 
 
 concentration. By bringing the resources of the bene- 
 volent to bear upon given points, as the sun's rays are 
 condensed to a focus through a burning glass, a decided 
 impression may be made upon the moral and intellectual 
 interests of man. In this way luminous points may be 
 produced amid the thick darkness of paganism, each of 
 which shall act as a sun in its own little system, around 
 which lesser lights will revolve, and thus extended 
 inroads may be made upon the moral night that broods 
 over the nations. Nor will the time be distant, should 
 the resources of the church be called irnto requisition 
 and wisely directed, ere these radiant points will fling 
 their beams within each other's limits, and thus the light 
 of the knowledge of the glory of God will fill all lands. 
 The conquered territory will supply fresh troops to the 
 victorious army, and by increasing the coalition of virtue 
 and truth, will accelerate the march of man in the 
 career of dignity and improvement. Yea, what is more, 
 the establishment of civilization within the present pre- 
 cincts of barbarism, will open new marts of trade, and 
 so will pour back into the coffers of the nation from 
 which the influence emanated, an amount perhaps more 
 than equal to what she sent abroad upon this errand of 
 mercy. Who can calculate the extent of commerce that 
 would be thrown open to human enterprise, by overspread- 
 ing Africa, for instance, with the institutions of civilization 1 
 Who can estimate the increase of those articles of trade 
 for which we now depend upon nations in a state of 
 nature, or a state little better, if those nations were to 
 
322 PRINCIPLE OF CONCENTRATION 
 
 feel the impetus which a pure Christianity gives to the 
 human mind? 
 
 That the earthly condition of man is susceptible of 
 vast improvements, the late discoveries in science and 
 art leave no remaining doubt. We have succeeded 
 wonderfully in annihilating distance ; and points on the 
 earth's surface once remote from each other are brought 
 into the same neighborhood. And yet the application of 
 those principles by which this result is secured has but 
 just commenced. With such an infancy, therefore, what 
 may we not expect from its adult age ? If a present tenant 
 of the world were allowed to visit it some five hundred 
 years hence, he might, perhaps, be as much surprised at 
 the rapidity with which men will have then contrived to 
 fly over space, as Archimedes would be at the velocity 
 of our movements. At all events, if the velocity at that 
 future period be no greater than at present, the fixtures 
 will, doubtless, be provided by which it will be spread 
 over a much wider extent of surface. If the Indies 
 could be visited, or the antipodes meet each other, at the 
 same rate of movement with which the space between 
 Liverpool and Manchester is passed, we can hardly cal- 
 culate the changes which it would produce in the interests 
 and the condition of man. The principles of virtue and 
 truth might have a rapid circulation among the moral 
 elements of the world, and might possibly produce per- 
 manent sympathies between the distant portions of the 
 human species. For, notwithstanding the deteriorating 
 influence which sin has exerted upon the character of 
 man, it still retains its respect for truth, and whenever it 
 
• APPLIED TO CHARITABLE FUNDS. 323 
 
 is in a condition to be fairly touched by the arguments 
 which support it, will succumb to their power. 
 
 The friends of truth, therefore, have only to combine 
 their energies and resources to increase the means of 
 communicating it, whether it respect natural, historical, 
 or divine science ; and have only to avail themselves of 
 the facilities which modern invention has put into their 
 hands for sending it abroad ; and the favorable results 
 upon the human character and condition will be rapid and 
 decided. The possibility that the church may experience 
 a consummation of her pious wish for the happiness of 
 this world, appears scarcely less from the natural fea- 
 tures of the earth itself, and from the constitution of^ 
 man, than from the predictions of the Bible. The great 
 outlines of geography, which show the possibility of 
 shortening the distance by more than one half from center 
 to center of the eastern and western continents, by open- 
 ing a passage through the two great isthmuses that 
 chain together the grand divisions of those continents, — 
 recent developments in the means of increasing the velo- 
 city of movement over space, and the talent and re- 
 sources which are now centering upon this point, — the 
 principles of human nature which show a tendency to 
 association, — added to the express predictions of revela- 
 tion, are every year producing greater and greater cer- 
 tainty that the different portions of the human family, 
 whatever their present hostility of principle, custom, or 
 feeling, are destined to an ultimate blending into one. 
 Who, therefore, that has the feelings of a Christian, 
 or even the heart of a man, will not come up to the work 
 
324 CONCENTRATION. 
 
 of consummating an object so clear to the heart of God, so 
 favorable to the v/elfare of man — a work invested in all 
 that is morally beautiful or sublime? Who will not pro- 
 secute his plans of acquiring property with this in view ? 
 To what point can money be directed with brighter 
 prospects of a glorious harvest ? 
 
SECTION IV. 
 
 Executive management of benevolent funds. 
 
 The great thing to be secured on this point, is efficient 
 cy and incorruptibleness of conduct. Without the former 
 nothing can be done answerable to the iniportance of the 
 great cause of benevolence; and vi^ithout the latter, 
 the public cannot be expected to furnish the means of pro- 
 secuting that cause. In what way both these objects can 
 be secured, and secured with the greatest economy, or with 
 the least possible diversion of moneys from the great object 
 to which they are given, it may be difficult to determine. 
 Our remarks must be of a general character, and intended 
 rather to show what would be best, provided public 
 sentiment were properly regulated, than what is feasible 
 in the actual state of things. 
 
 As a general principle, it is necessary to the efficien- 
 cy of a power that it be condensed into as few hands as 
 possible. If the present loose, disconnected, and unfi- 
 nished forms of benevolence were to give place to those 
 which should be duly adjusted to each other and united 
 28 
 
326 EXECUTIVE MANAGEMENT. 
 
 by a common tie, while a saving might be made on the 
 score of expense, they might be wielded, by fewer hands, 
 perhaps, with vastly greater efficiency. We can con- 
 ceive it possible that they might be so condensed that 
 seven men, each to have a distinct department, with so 
 many agents under him as should be needed to do the 
 business, would be amply qualified to direct the benevo- 
 lent operations of any of the great denominations of this 
 country, or of them all, if they were amalgamated. Our 
 picture may perhaps be an ideal one, and not adapted to 
 the actual state of man and of the world. Be it so. Let 
 us for a momet omit the consideration of present imper- 
 fections in the character of church members, and fancy to 
 ourselves a state of things in which these are melted away 
 by a nearer approach to the Sun of Righteousness, and a 
 more direct reception of His beams ; and what organiza- 
 tions of mercy would then be admissible ? Perhaps the 
 following might be regarded as the rude outlines of the 
 ideal picture : that individuals be received to the church 
 on the express condition of bringing weekly gratuities, in 
 money or in pledges, proportioned to their means, into a 
 common coffer of benevolence — that the church, by its 
 elders, deacons, or by chosen men, be the judge whether 
 they are thus proportioned — that a refusal to listen to the 
 voice of the church on this point, be regarded as a case 
 demanding vigorous discipline — that quarterly remittances 
 be made to the common treasury of the churches acting 
 in concert — that this treasury be the general receptacle 
 of all their pious offerings beyond their personal charities 
 and the support of religion at home — that the distribution 
 
COLLEGE OF BENEVOLENCE. 327 
 
 of this general fund among the different objects of bene- 
 volence be left to a few men of age and wisdom, of tried 
 integrity and maturity in holiness, and men who are not of 
 the clerical profession should doubtless be preferred — that 
 this executive board occupy some locality remote from the 
 cities, yet conveniently situated in regard to post-roads, 
 where it should have buildings and all the necessary fix- 
 tures, constituting a college, not of cardinals, but of bene- 
 volence — that it have its depots and agents in all the 
 great cities of the country, wielding in this manner the 
 energy and resources of millions, so as to make them bear 
 the most extensively upon the interests of mankind — and 
 that they send abroad weekly reports through a common 
 organ, of moneys received and disbursed, to all those 
 churches with whom they originated, that every contri- 
 butor, by understanding the movements of the mighty 
 engine of mercy of which he forms a part, may be the 
 better qualified to send up to heaven his prayers, together 
 with his alms. The prerogatives of the men having 
 charge of the general treasury being of course chiefly 
 secular, to make the picture complete, the action of a col- 
 lateral organization, or perhaps of pastors by virtue of 
 their office as such, would be necessary in the selection 
 and ordination of ministers and missionaries, and in the 
 transaction of all affairs of a purely spiritual nature. 
 The executive board of which we speak would derive 
 its power from the contributors as its ultimate source, 
 though their election would be effected by the delegates 
 of the churches in convention assembled, or otherwise, as 
 might be judged expedient. 
 
328 EXECUTIVE MANAGEMENT. 
 
 We do not say that the present state of the world, or 
 of the church, would admit of an organization of this cha- 
 racter ; but that such are the rude outlines of one that 
 would seem to promise the greatest efficiency, provided 
 things were as they should be. There is no source from 
 which Protestant Christendom as a whole, or even any 
 one of its great divisions in its separate action, suffers 
 greater obstruction to its progress, than from the discord 
 among the elements that enter into its composition, or the 
 total absence of a subordination of parts to a common cen- 
 ter. Its movements more resemble the muscular contor- 
 tions of a dead body at the touch of the galvanic fluid, 
 than those of living forms, animated, directed, and con- 
 trolled by the presiding and intelligent agency of volition. 
 Why is it that the Catholic church has done so much 
 more to send abroad her corruptions of Christianity, than 
 we have to diffuse the pure elements of our faith ? Is it 
 not because she has a more perfect organization, and a 
 more condensed and efficient executive power ? One 
 spirit animates the whole, from him who fills the chair of 
 St. Peter, at Rome, to the Irish emigrant who is thrown 
 by the charities of his parish upon the wilds of Ame- 
 rica. All are parts of one vast confederation, contributing 
 their money and their influence to the same objects, and 
 through the same channels. The children of this world 
 are wiser in their generation than the children of light. 
 
 There is no Protestant denomination that has embo- 
 died this element of efficiency to the same extent with 
 our Methodist brethren. And the result is well known. 
 Though last in the field, they have risen to be one of the 
 
METHODISM ITS ORGANIZATION. 329 
 
 most numerous and powerful Protestant denominations. 
 What a splendid work have they done ! a work that 
 doubtless places them high in the records of heaven, 
 towards spreading the saving principles of Christianity- 
 over the sparse population of this vast, but newly settled 
 country ! How manifestly does their success depend, 
 under God, upon the simple fact, that they have an effi- 
 cient organization ! The whole machine is wielded by a 
 few bishops, not arbitrarily, but with the advice and con- 
 currence of the wisdom of the denomination in conference 
 assembled. 
 
 These remarks upon the desirableness of condensing 
 all our benevolent operations into one organization, to be 
 managed by a few safe men who shall be wholly devoted 
 to the business, are made in full view of the past evils 
 arising from the abuse of such powers, and of the danger 
 that they might be reacted under the system which we 
 contemplate. We are not without hope, however, that 
 Christians may hereafter attain to such an elevation of 
 piety and moral worth, as to secure them against such 
 abuses ; or that some plan may be devised to have orga- 
 nizations condensed and efficient, and at the same time 
 free from undetected and irremediable corruptions. We 
 are no advocates for such a condensation of benevolent 
 action, in the present state of the world, but would hold it 
 up as the mark of the prize at which the church should 
 aim in her onward career. Who does not see and feel 
 that Christians ought to be so much like their Master, and 
 consequently so similar among themselves, that one spirit 
 should animate the whole, in the work of bringing this 
 28* 
 
330 EXECUTIVE MANAGEMENT. 
 
 world into captivity to their principles ? Who does not 
 know, that the bare fact of such a union would furnish 
 one of the most powerful arguments to the superiority of 
 their religion, and would itself do much to secure the tri- 
 umph of their cause ? 
 
 Though it would at present be inexpedient to attempt 
 to harmonize all Protestant Christians in plans for the 
 propagation of their faith, and though no denomination 
 may be ripe for including all their benevolent operations 
 in one system, under one executive board, yet it is ques- 
 tionable whether a number of the denominations are not 
 in a condition to appoint a few men with definite powers, 
 as a committee of general supervision over all their 
 respective institutions of benevolence. There are cer- 
 tainly many evils arising from the separate and indepen- 
 dent action of our benevolent societies. Nor can they be 
 obviated, without some more perceptible and efficient bond 
 of union between those societies, than any that now exists. 
 It is always dangerous to set ponderous bodies in motion, 
 without the regulating influence of some principle in 
 common, to pr«serve them from interference and collision. 
 What security do we enjoy, as our societies now exist and 
 act independently of each other, against the war of pre- 
 eminence between them, and the anarchy of contending 
 interests ? Capaciousness is a quality too foreign to the 
 human mind, to admit of our becoming deeply enlisted in 
 one, without losing sight of the relative importance of 
 other and collateral organizations. Those who have 
 failed to discover indications of this non-capaciousness — 
 this collapse upon partial interests — in those who stand at 
 
RIVALRY OF SOCIETIES. 331 
 
 the head of our organizations of benevolence, are little in 
 the habit of reading men from the volume of real life. 
 
 * They are each the head of the best families in the whole 
 neighborhood — no children are like their children 
 — no rights are equal to theirs — and wo be to the 
 presumer who dares pretend to a heritage so chosen, so 
 illustrious, as that which they transmit to posterity !' If, 
 in the course of events, new powers are to be created, and 
 new channel^f benevolent contributions opened, they ought 
 of course to flow to them, because, in the language of each, 
 
 * Our board is first — is wisest, discreetest, best !' And this 
 exclusive spirit breathes throughout, from him who sits in 
 the secretary's chair, to him who scours the outposts in 
 quest of means : the cry of all is, * Our object is first ; 
 others are good, but ours transcends the whole !' Now, 
 these indications show but too clearly, that those who are 
 thus exclusively occupied with partial interests require to 
 be ranged under a common board, that shall occupy asub- 
 limer and serener elevation — an elevation like that of the 
 impartial father over his family, who alike regards the 
 interests of all his children, into whatever errors the sel- 
 fishness of each may betray him, in judging of his own 
 claims in comparison with others. Perhaps somewhat 
 might be accomplished in this way towards obviating sec- 
 tional prejudices, and bringing all the forms of mercy now 
 in the field to bear, with united and concentrated power, 
 upon the great point which each has in view, of improving 
 the character and condition of man, and advancing the 
 glory of God. 
 
 It is possible, also, that some plan might be devised to 
 
332 EXECUTIVE MANAGEMENT. 
 
 relieve our brethren who live near the respective centers 
 of operation to our great societies, of those unrequited 
 labors which are now devolved upon their hands. The 
 necessity of entrusting the executive control of benevolent 
 funds to men whose attention is divided between their own 
 business on the one hand, and their official duties as mem- 
 bers of a board on the other, instead of giving it up to 
 those who shall make it their sole business, is certainly 
 very questionable. It may be necessary, to secure pub- 
 lic confidence, to check the tendency to extremes into 
 which men exclusively occupied in a thing are liable to 
 fall, and to gain other valuable ends, and it may possibly 
 be superseded in a way to gain all these ends, in addi- 
 tion to that of vastly greater efficiency. What man of 
 business can do his part of the official duties of a board — 
 can attend its frequent meetings, and go through with its 
 protracted discussions — can acquire that information con- 
 cerning the vast field spread out before him, which is 
 necessary to qualify him for devising the best modes of 
 operating upon it — without a culpable infringement upon 
 his own private affairs ? How can the merchant, with 
 the cares of an extensive traffic upon his hands, do this 
 benevolent work, without neglecting his indispensable 
 calls? How can the mechanic, with perhaps a dozen 
 apprentices, and as many journeymen, give up his time in 
 this way, without serious detriment to his affairs ? Indi- 
 viduals thus situated, might better pay liberally to have 
 this work done for them, than attempt to do it themselves. 
 The truth is, when they attempt it, it is often wholly 
 neglected, or done with too much haste to be done well. 
 
DRAFTS UPON CITY PASTORS. 333 
 
 And were it not that as many as one or two salaried offi- 
 cers are connected with the boards of our principal soci- 
 eties, who give up their whole attention to the business, 
 the public would have little security for its proper trans- 
 action, merely because the others have not the leisure to 
 give it the attention which it demands. 
 
 It is generally expected that the pastors of churches 
 in the cities, when our benevolent societies carry on their 
 operations, will do a large share of their secular business. 
 But they are really no better quaUfied to do it, nor even 
 as well. And if they give up the time necessary to 
 qualify themselves, they must infringe upon their pastoral 
 duties, or perform a service that no human constitution 
 can endure. The numerous engagements of this sort in 
 which the pastors of metropolitan churches allow them- 
 selves to become involved, are breaking down their 
 health, enfeebling their energies, distracting their atten- 
 tion, and unfitting them for their hoi}'- calling. The time 
 that ought to be spent in the sick and death-rooms of 
 their congregations, or in preparing beaten oil for the 
 sanctuary, is wasted, perhaps, upon the calculation of 
 dollars and cents. Their studies are neglected, their 
 sermons hastily composed, their productions superficial ; 
 and with such a burden of unofficial cares upon them, how 
 can they be expected to maintain the pre-eminence of the 
 pulpit in an age like this ? Thus, by devolving the pas- 
 toral office and the executive control of benevolent funds 
 upon the same men, we provide to have the duties of both 
 neglected ; or to destroy the health and energies of those 
 
334 
 
 EXECUTIVE MANAGEMENT. 
 
 who suffer themselves to become the dupes of our indis- 
 cretion. 
 
 It may not be possible to correct these erils at once ; 
 but it is by no means impossible to inquire whether they 
 may not be corrected. Are we bound to admit that plans 
 which have not been subjected to the test of fifty years* 
 experience, have already attained to the acme of perfec- 
 tion? Must our inquiries on this subject be repelled by 
 pleading the danger of innovation, or the authority of 
 venerable names ? The men, whose authority we quote, 
 were the last to consider the plans perfect to which they 
 gave the weight of their names ? They selected them as 
 the best that their inexperience could devise ; or as the only 
 ones that their circumstances would allow. Had those men, 
 at the commencement of their labors, found a thousand 
 spontaneous rills pouring into the treasury of benevolence, 
 or had they found the churches in a condition to appreciate 
 their duty in the use and pursuit of money, and disposed 
 to bestow upon the removal of existing evils in the cha- 
 racter and condition of man, their hundreds of thousands 
 a year, they would, doubtless, have formed their plans on 
 a widely different scale. In that case, a large share of 
 that part of their labor which respected the production of 
 means would have been superseded. Is it too much 
 to hope that a board of general supervision would find 
 means of obviating, in part or in whole, the evils arising 
 from this source ? 
 
 It does not fall within the scope of our design to point 
 out the particular powers to be entrusted to such a board. 
 
BOARD OF SUPERVISION. 385 
 
 Nor could they be well defined till such a state of things 
 should accrue, as would follow from the united action of a 
 large number of churches, upon the principles in regard to 
 a provision for beneficence, which are advocated in these 
 pages. Their labors in the beginning might consist, 
 chiefly, in condensing the present plans of action into a 
 more systematic and compact form. To enable them to 
 perform this work, the different societies would, no doubt, 
 find it to their own advantage, as well that of the general 
 cause, to concede to them certain powers, according to 
 the policy which governed these States in the forma- 
 tion of the Federal Union. Could all the benevolent 
 operations of any one of the great denominations of 
 Protestant Christendom, be thus united under an efficient 
 head, who should be left to adjust the relative claims of 
 each to the public patronage, and assign it that station 
 among the means of mercy to man, which would render 
 the joint power of all the most formidable, how much 
 more good might we hope to realize with the same 
 amount of means, than can be expected from our present 
 disconnected and often discordant organizations ! In this 
 way we might hope to be secured against the imposition 
 of those petty charities, which are springing up like mush- 
 rooms all over the land, and, on the credit of a few names, 
 extorting from the public, moneys of which they are utter- 
 ly unworthy, and greatly to the detriment of the cause of 
 benevolence. And that objection to such a great com- 
 pact, which is founded in the supposition that Christians 
 need the stimulus of those corrival calls upon their 
 contributions, which arise from the separate action of our 
 
336 EXECUTIVE MANAGEMENT. 
 
 great societies, in order to make them liberal, will be ob- 
 viated when they come to act upon the principles of their 
 avowed consecration to God. 
 
 Such an organization as we here contemplate might 
 doubtless be rendered as secure against maladministra- 
 tion, as those which now exist. We might here add a 
 chapter to make this appear, as also to consider objec- 
 tions, and to go still further into detail ; but the subject is 
 so remote from the present course of things, that with 
 these few hints we must leave it for the more lucid com- 
 ments of future experiment and observation. 
 
 With a few remarks concerning the manner of secur- 
 ing the management of benevolent funds against corrup- 
 tion, we shall dismiss this part of our work. The most 
 effectual method of attaining this security is to guard 
 against accumulations. Provision should be made to 
 have the last cent drawn off from the treasury of benevo- 
 lence by the operations of every successive year. Have 
 our organizations of mercy so little faith, that they dare 
 not venture forward, unless a golden pavement is prepared 
 to sustain their tread ] Must they have a solid basis of 
 real estate, of bank-stock, or money at interest, of which 
 they can make no use beyond the proceeds, to enable 
 them to prosecute their work of mercy ? Did our Sa- 
 viour and his apostles demand a capital in gold and silver, 
 to enable them to embark in their enterprises of benevo- 
 lence 1 Did He not, on the contrary, instruct his disciples 
 to provide themselves neither gold, nor silver, nor brass 
 in their purses, nor scrip for their journey, neither two 
 coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves 1 The bad policy, 
 
DANGER OF ACCUMULATIONS. 337- 
 
 and utter abomination of attempts on the part of benevo- 
 lent societies, to accumulate any thing beyond what m.ay 
 be invested in the fixtures, necessary to prosecute their 
 operations, will appear from the following considera- 
 tions. 
 
 1. It is the same as attempting to supersede the ne- 
 cessity of continued contributions, 'and so to leave with 
 posterity a temptation to restrict their liberality, whos3 
 strength will be exactly proportioned to the degree of our 
 success. 
 
 Can it be expected that our children will feel the same 
 interest in contributing to a benevolent institution, which 
 they found with immense accumulations in its treasury, that 
 they would to one, which we had taught them to love and 
 respect, but which they found with no other resources 
 than what their liberality should supply ? On this point 
 there can be no doubt. Oar attempts, therefore, at leav- 
 ing religious accumulations behind us, are virtual attempts 
 to counteract and enfeeble the energy of benevolent prinr. 
 ciple in those who may succeed us. 
 
 2. We cannot discharge our duty to a suffering world 
 without bringing to their relief, both principal and interest, 
 of what we have to bestow. Suppose it would require 
 ten thousand dollars to provide the inhabitants of a certain 
 island, over whose vegetation a blight had passed, with 
 the means of subsistence — that this amount were raised, 
 but instead of expending all upon their immediate relief, it 
 were put into a fund, and only the interest used, what could 
 we expect but that thousands would perish as a conse- 
 quence 1 After Christians have given all they ought and 
 
 29 
 
3J^8 EXECUTIVE MANAGEMENT. 
 
 can, there will still remain a vast destitution in this region 
 of famine and woe. And now, shall we collect our gra- 
 tuities, put them into funds, and then dole out only the pro- 
 ceeds of the miserable pittance, when millions upon mil- 
 lions are perishing for want of both principal and inte- 
 rest ? Oh ! if there is any one practice on this earth 
 more strongly marked than others, with the dark lines 
 of hell in its features, it is this accumulating policy on the 
 part of charitable institutions ! It is the element which 
 the devil has contrived to infuse into them, to neutralize 
 their power and to corrupt their managers. 
 
 3. Benevolent accumulations are rarely managed 
 with the same economy with that which marks the opera- 
 tions of a society, which is left to depend upon the con- 
 tinued exercise of liberality in the churches. They breed 
 a feeling of independence in those with whom they are 
 entrusted, and give them confidence to say, ' why this 
 society is rich, and there is no propriety in my serving it 
 for so miserable a salary. I must have more or I will 
 do nothing.' Nor is the same amount of prayer and faith 
 to be expected in men thus situated, with accumulated 
 thousands at their disposal, as in those who manage a 
 treasury upon which the calls are so urgent that it cannot 
 afford a day's rest to a single farthing. 
 
 4. All the experience of past ages admonishes us against 
 allowing religious funds to accumulate upon our hands. — 
 Look at the immense estates which were poured into the 
 coffers of the church, upon the accession of Con- 
 stantino to the throne; and observe the assumptions 
 of power into which the clergy were immediately betray- 
 
EXPERIENCE AGAINST ACCUMULATIONS. 339 
 
 ed ; the carnal policy that governed them ; and the utter 
 annihilation of the distinctive elements of Christianity 
 from the pretended church, which soon followed. Owing 
 to her wealth, in connection with other causes, she 
 became a mass of corruption ; the atmosphere above her 
 was fetid ; and such symptoms of moral disease, and such 
 forms of crime showed themselves among the nations 
 subject to her sway, as had not been known from the 
 foundation of the world. And through a line of ages, 
 even down to our own times, the immense wealth of the 
 monastic orders, together with the other estates and reve- 
 nues of the church, have been a pregnant source of those 
 revolutions which have deluged the old world with blood. 
 Could those kings, nobles, and rich men in ages past, 
 who, under the deluded notion of procuring for their souls 
 a quiet retreat in heaven, thus endowed the church ; could 
 they have foreseen the vast expense of blood, crime, and 
 misery to this world, at which their supposed purchases 
 in the next were effected, methinks that from motives of 
 patriotism, if no other, they would have foregone their 
 individual prospects of happiness, for the sake of the pub- 
 lic weal. Such a foresight would at least have begotten 
 in them a doubt, whether any thing could be gained in 
 another world, by entailing so blighting a curse on this. 
 Nor is there any more to hope from future accumulations 
 in the hands of the church. Money retains all its wither- 
 ing powers, and human nature all its susceptibilities to be 
 affected by its blighting influence. Hence, if all the 
 funded property now in the hands of the church, beyond 
 what is invested in the necessary fixtures for her wor- 
 
W^ EXECUTIVE MANAGEMENT. 
 
 ship, were buried in ocean's lowest caverns ; if all her 
 prospects of state revenue were cut off, and she were left 
 to subsist wholly by the vigor of the voluntary principle 
 in her own members, her prospects of future pre-eminence 
 and extension would be vastly more promising. We 
 know churches, not a few, who have funded property suf- 
 ficient in part, in whole, or more than sufficient for their 
 own support ; and the invariable consequence is, a spirit 
 of illiberality in their own members, or of indifference to 
 their interests — as it is not to be expected that men will 
 feel much interest in what costs them nothing. And the 
 same reasons against accumulations exist in benevolent 
 societies as in churches, since they are and must be vir- 
 tually, if not in name, ecclesiastical organizations. The 
 present generation might as well think of doing all the 
 praying for several generations to come, as to pro- 
 vide at their hands the means of exercising charity. 
 The latter duty, to answer the design of heaven, must be 
 personal as well as the former. 
 
 5. It is impossible for us to leave property to any par- 
 ticular form of benevolence, with any certainty that it 
 will not be diverted from our design ; or that there may 
 not be even a necessity to infringe upon the terms of our 
 devise. The instances are rare in which, in the course 
 of ages, there is not an illegal and unjust diversion of 
 benevolent funds from the design of the donors. Though 
 this country has not been an abode of civih'zed men for 
 half a millenary, yet how numerous are the complaints, 
 and how frequerit the law-suits that arise from those 
 complaints, that ecclesiastical or literary funds are not 
 
DIVERSION OF FUNDS FROM THEIR DESI&N. 341 
 
 used according to the specified intention of those by 
 whom they were bequeathed ! Are not these abuses so 
 common, at least, as to destroy confidence in those who 
 may think of leaving property for benevolent purposes, 
 with the view of having only the interest used year by 
 year? Would they not be much more secure of their 
 object, if they placed their estates where principal and 
 interest should both be used as fast as the demands of the 
 cause might require ? 
 
 And then, how can a man foresee all the forms of be- 
 nevolence that may spring up in time to come ? As well 
 may he anticipate all the varieties of figure that will 
 show themselves upon every successive turning of the 
 kaleidoscope. Who knows but that something may yet 
 be contrived to supersede our present Bible, tract, mis- 
 sionary, and education societies, that would make it seem as 
 awkward in the church to continue them as it now would, if 
 she should require every copy of the Scriptures to be 
 made by manual transcription ? Suppose Philemon and 
 Aquila had left their estates, with an express provision 
 that the interest should be used in all time to come, in 
 paying men for copying the Bible with the pen — should 
 we not now find it necessary to violate the terms of the 
 devise ? Or, would not both principal and interest have 
 been used long ere this, for the purpose of propagating 
 worse evils than those which Philemon, and Aquila, and 
 Paul labored to destroy ? The dying man, who under- 
 takes to say how the men of a thousand years hence 
 shall use the interest of his estate, what forms of benevo- 
 lence it shall support, what creed it shall perpetuate, ox 
 
 29* 
 
342 EXECUTIVE MANAGEMENT. 
 
 in what channels charity shall then flow, does in effect 
 forge chains for the human mind to obstruct its onward 
 career. Millions are, at this moment, held in durance by 
 those golden chains, which previous ages have thus forged 
 for their feet ; and because the adoption of a more consist- 
 ent faith, of a more enlightened practice ; or, in the civil 
 world, because plans of government more compatible with 
 the rights of man cannot be advocated, without a sacri- 
 fice of interest ; the relics of former ignorance, imbecility, 
 or wickedness are vindicated with a warmth worthy ot a 
 better cause. Well may we say to him who would give 
 his estate in this manner, Thy money perish with thee* 
 
 Accumulations for literary purposes, except what is in- 
 vested in libraries and other means necessary to the cul- 
 tivation of mind, are of equally questionable propriety. 
 If those in a course of actual training in our colleges and 
 other seats of learning, do not receive a value sufficient 
 to justify them or their patrons, in paying such an amount 
 as may be needed to support these establishments, there 
 is no reason why otliers should make up the deficiency, by 
 placing at their disposal the annual proceeds of funded 
 property.* We grant that such property might be of 
 
 * Perhaps some exception may be made in regard to infant 
 institutions, which, to do justice to the public, find it necessary to 
 employ a complete faculty^ when the number of pupils is not suffi- 
 cient, with a fair charge for education, to give them a just compen- 
 sation. If funds are provided, however, to meet such an emergency 
 instead of doing it by yearly subscription, they should not be perma- 
 nent, but so arranged as to run out in a few years, and then, if 
 they have been expended in a way to produce their value and se- 
 cure public confidence, there will be no difficulty in reviving 
 them again, provided they should still be found necessary. 
 
FUNDS FOR LITERARY PURPOSES. 343 
 
 service in keeping up the institution, in the event of its 
 falHng under the supervision of an inefficient and in- 
 competent faculty, who should be incapable of returning 
 to the public the value of their own salaries. But this, 
 so far from being a reason why they should be thus en- 
 dowed, is one of the most conclusive arguments for our 
 own theory. What motive is there for keeping up an 
 institution, which has lost the power of conferring on tho 
 public a value sufficient for its own support ? Must we 
 provide to feed a hive of literary drones ? An institution 
 of learning is something more than brick, mortar, and 
 stone ; than the classical names of Oxford, Cambridge, 
 or Yale ; or even than a collection of books, philosophi- 
 cal apparatus, and other means of knowledge ; it is an 
 engine for developing the powers of youth — for teaching 
 them to think, to reason, to act — for transfusing the con- 
 tents of highly gifted and richly endowed minds through the 
 intellectual atmosphere of a coming age. Now, where the 
 power of thus acting upon mind exists, whether it be in con- 
 nection with a classical locality or not, there is the college 
 and the university, which the public may well affiDrd to sus- 
 tain, and which they will sustain, fvithout the aid of any 
 other literary fund, than what may be invested in the build- 
 ings, books, and other necessary fixtures of its operation. 
 If literary and scientific institutions were left to stand 
 wholly upon their own merits, and not by the weight of 
 former reputation, nor by the strength of ample accu- 
 mulations, a fair chance for competition would then exist 
 between those who set up for teachers ; effort for real merit 
 would be on the alert, and the wreath of pre-eminence 
 
344 EXECUTIVE MANAGEMENT. 
 
 would flosirish only on the brows, to which by right 
 it belonged. It is the men — the amount of mind embodied 
 in an institution, and not its wealth, that must decide the 
 question of its claims upon public patronage. Who does 
 not know that in the better days of Grecian history, seats 
 of learning were little more than aggregations of mind 
 created by gifted spirits around themselves — the train that 
 waited on the march of nature's noblemen. Such men as 
 Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, embodied in themselves all 
 the elements of a university, acting like a charm upon 
 the mass of mind, and rendering any locality which they 
 might select the classical resort of gifted young men. 
 As monied accumulations, therefore, can never supply 
 the place of mind in our seats of learning, and viay be 
 the means of making them splendid impositions upon the 
 public, it is not desirable that they should be sought any 
 further than the requisite fixtures may make them neces- 
 sary. These rem.arks have no reference, of course, to 
 the subject of gratuitously paying the price of education 
 for worthy and promising young men. If the price is only 
 paid, it makes no difference to the institution itself, whether 
 it be with money giv^ to its pupils by their parents, or 
 by a cbaritable society. 
 
 We should not have indulged in this digression upon 
 institutions of learning, but for their intimate connection 
 with those of benevolence. We are enemies of accu- 
 mulations for all such objects. The temptations to cor- 
 ruption, in one form or another, which they hold out, are too 
 much for human nature long to withstand. We have many 
 reasons, besides those already offered, for leaving succes- 
 
EACH GENERATION ITS OWN PURVEYOR. 345 
 
 sive generations to pay the price of their own charities ; 
 their own intellectual, moral, and physical good, out 
 of the fruits of their own application and industry. At 
 all events, confident that no quality, which now renders 
 our benevolent organization useful to men, or pleasing in 
 the eye of God, could long survive a rich endowment 
 of funded property, we shall hope and pray, while we 
 have breath, that they may never rise above a condition 
 of continual dependence upon ^the contributions of pious 
 men. 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
 We have not allowed ourselves, in the foregoing 
 pages, to anticipate a period, when the present conflicting 
 interests of Protestant Christendom shall be amalgamated ; 
 but have uniformly spoken on the principle of its being 
 desirable, in the present state of human nature, that each 
 of the denominations should have within itself an organi- 
 zation of benevolence, distinct from all the rest. We 
 cannot forbear adding a few remarks, however, as ex- 
 pressive of our conviction, that this dissevering of inte- 
 rests that ought to be united in one, so far from aiding the 
 cajuse of man, is the foulest blot upon its escutcheon, the 
 most formidable obstacle to the triumph of truth in the 
 earth. With the reason, and argument, and intelligence, 
 and favorable bearing upon the rights of man, and con- 
 sequent sympathy enlisted in her behalf—with the arts, 
 science, literature, enterprise, and wide spread commerce 
 of Protestant Christianity, she might, if the principle of 
 concert and concentration were at the basis of her move- 
 ments, soon achieve brilliant deeds of benevolence and mer- 
 cy to the world. But, broken up into a thousand fr^g* 
 
348 UNION OF PROTESTANT SECTS. 
 
 merits, and each exerting more power to crowd the others 
 out of their course, than to drive the devil from the worl^, 
 their energies are wasted, paralyzed, lost. With the 
 pure eye of God, and the suspicious gaze of the world 
 upon us, how dare we indulge this sectarian arrogance^ 
 this secret heart-burning, these vile attacks upon each 
 other's honest peculiarities, this struggle for pre-eminence, 
 and this untruced war among ourselves ; when we have 
 common enemies to assail, from whom we all have so 
 much more to apprehend, than we have to fear from each 
 other? Infidelity, paganism, Rome, the Moslem, and 
 hell are a coalition, which, ranking us in the same line of 
 opposition, without regard to the little peculiarities of which 
 we make so much account among ourselves, aims at con- 
 signing us all to the same undistinguished ruin. While, 
 therefore, we form a common front upon which this 
 Xerxes is concentrating the countless files of war, it be- 
 hooves us to forget that we belong to hostile states, and to 
 march forth under the broad banner of the common weal, 
 conquering and to conquer. Oh, when will the advocates 
 of all that is saving in revealed truth harmonize in mutual 
 plans of operation 1 
 
 Perhaps it is too much to hope that for a century or 
 two to come these conflicting interests will be amalgama- 
 ted. The progress of improvement is too tardy, the 
 principle of persistance in the wonted course too strong, 
 and prejudice too invincible, to allow of such a hope. 
 But, granting that Protestant Christianity must exist in its 
 present dissevered state for one or two centuries to come ; 
 yet, how much might be gained to the cause of human- 
 
BENEVOLENCE NEVER MADE THE BASIS OF A SECT. 349 
 
 ity, if each of the great divisions would practise a little 
 more courtesy to the others, would cease from its con- 
 flict with them, and form within itself a compact and vi- 
 gorous system, of labor and expenditure for the good of 
 mankind ! When one looks at the arguments, which sus- 
 tain the duty of systematically sacrificing on the altar of 
 beneficence, one cannot but be surprised, that among the 
 numerous founders of sects, no one has hit upon this as 
 his grand peculiarity, and made it the sine qua non of 
 membership and communion. How should it happen 
 that visible rites, theoretical dogmas, and even peculiari- 
 ties of diction and costume should have been magnified 
 into the basis of conscientious dissent ; while no denomi- 
 nation, (unless the Moravians have won that enviable dis- 
 tinction,) has ever yet made a regard to the claims of hu- 
 manity the rallying point of its separation. This shows 
 that men are more tenacious of opinions, than of good 
 works. 
 
 Had there been but one instance, in which the regular 
 sacrifice of treasure upon the altar of humanity had been 
 made the Shibboleth of a party, it might have provoked 
 investigation, and led to results positively beneficial. 
 One, of a thousand volumes which have been written upon 
 the rites or abstract points of our faith, directed to this sub- 
 ject, might, ere this, have materially changed the entire 
 aspect of the world. Should some one, with the ambition 
 of becoming a sectarian leader, begin his work by brush- 
 ing away the cobweb theories of his predecessors — should 
 he trample under foot the useless tomes on free will, ne- 
 cessity, and other abstract questions, in which, if we 
 30 
 
350 IDEA OF A SECT THAT SHOULD BE SO FORMED. 
 
 might judge from the pretensions of their authors, all the 
 secret things of God are brought to light — should he allay 
 the spectres which have been called up from their tombs 
 by the metaphysical sorceress — and then, should he em- 
 body, in the basis of his organization, a principle which 
 should call into action all the energies of his followers, 
 upon the single point of raising man to the dignity of 
 virtue and truth, and of impelling him to those labors and 
 sacrifices, by which his woes may be alleviated, his igno- 
 rance dispelled, his infidelity counteracted, and his con- 
 flicts healed ; and by which the current of his feelings 
 may be made to set in favor of all that can exalt, eno- 
 ble, and beautify his own condition ; this would be a secta- 
 rian leader before whom the nations would do well to rise 
 up, and under whose banner every religious faction might 
 march out to achieve its trumphs on earth. Let him fix 
 upon a rule at the outset, which should forever bar his 
 followers from sectarian conflicts,* which should render 
 
 * Controversial writings have, for the most part, resulted from a 
 radical mistake concerning the principles of our nature. We are so 
 constituted, as to be unconsciously thrown into an attitude of resist- 
 ance, by an avowed assault upon our favorite principles. Hence, 
 whatever is presented to us with the air of controversy, forecloses 
 the possibility of a fair and candid examination ; and in nine cases 
 out of ten, however conclusive the arguments against us, we are only 
 confirmed by them in our former opinions. If, therefore, the object 
 is to advance truth, why have we not learned ere this, to employ 
 some means of securing it adapted to the purpose, instead of forever 
 resorting to those which can never fail of defeating our design 1 As 
 long as controversy is perpetuated, our prayers for the union of 
 Christians, will be as unavailing, as it would be to pray for life and 
 health, while in the act of drinking arsenic. 
 
IMPORTANCE OF BENEVOLEIsCE TO OUE NATION. 351 
 
 both their ears deaf, to the syren voice of those who 
 would perpetuate them, which should put them upon the 
 investigation of whatever in the Scriptures, (and it all 
 bears on this point,) may serve as an incentive to holy 
 living, and which should teach them to adopt such a sys- 
 tem of labor and expenditure, as would bring these incen- 
 tives into as speedy a contact as possible with every hu- 
 man mind. Thus, if the merciful tendency of our holy 
 religion were allowed to absorb every interest, and all 
 sects were intent upon being the most holy — upon enjoy- 
 ing a Christianity as free as possible from the alloy of hu- 
 man passions, and upon doing the greatest amount of 
 good, how long ere the present walls of separation would 
 be crumbled down, and that argument for the divine ori- 
 gin of our Saviour's mission be presented to the world, 
 which arises from all Christians being one as the Father 
 and the Son are one 1 When the followers of Christ be- 
 come absorbed in labors of mercy and good will, they 
 will find little leisure for indulging their mutual animosi- 
 ties ; and thus, the union for which their Master prayed 
 on the evening before his crucifixion, will meet with a 
 speedy consummation. 
 
 Finally, we cannot feel satisfied to dismiss the subject, 
 without adding a few thoughts upon the favorable influ- 
 ence which the principles advocated in these pages would 
 exert, if generally reduced to practice, upon the interests 
 of this nation. Nothing is more important in a civil 
 point of view, than that the surplus treasures in the hands 
 of this nation, should find vent for themselves in some way 
 that shall benefit others without injuring ourselves. It is 
 
352 CAUSES OF PBOSPERITY, THOSE OF PERIL 
 
 only by giving play to the benevolent emotions that we 
 can hope to withstand those incitements to inebriation, ef- 
 feminacy, and luxury, to which we stand exposed. Inha- 
 biting a country, that stretches from shore to shore ot the 
 two great oceans of the world — a country spread out be- 
 tween the northern tropic, and that parallel of latitude 
 which terminates the injurious severity of polar frosts — a 
 soil of unbounded luxuriance, covering every variety of 
 mineral wealth, and sustaining forests that abound in 
 almost every useful timber — a climate of great salubrity — 
 with all these advantages for acquiring wealth above, 
 beneath, around — conjoined to a passion for it, that renders 
 us proverbial among the nations of the earth, and ex- 
 empted from all restraints in the pursuit of our object, 
 from the institutions under which we live — how can we 
 fail of becoming hereafter exposed to all the dangers 
 with which illimitable abundance comes attended ? 
 
 Upon the deteriorating influence of vast accumula- 
 tions, history affords an exposition too lucid to require the 
 aid of our pen. To the eye accustomed to survey the 
 past, and to penetrate into the inherent tendency of things, 
 even the glowing hopes of this nation, and more than all 
 the actual reasons for those hopes, cannot fail to present 
 a most portentous aspect. When our vast forests come to 
 be cleared, to give place to the array of civilized life ; 
 when our ocean-prairies are covered with the products of 
 cultivation, and our soil is forced to pour into the lap of 
 industry the immensity of its annual resources ; when 
 our lakes and rivers receive all the improvements, of 
 which they are capable for internal navigation, and are 
 
AS WELL. LESSONS OF THE PAST. 353 
 
 made to float an amount of wealth and population, as great 
 in proportion to what this country is capable of sustaining, 
 as the amount they now float is to the present wealth and 
 population ; when our mines are wrought to the greatest 
 perfection ; and, in fine, when all our sources of wealth are 
 opened and taxed to their full extent, what arithmetic, 
 what numbers can calculate the mighty result ? 
 
 Hence, unless we can throw in among these elements 
 of future magnificence, those conservative principles 
 which shall prevent the exclusive use of this abundance, 
 and counteract its tendency to inebriation, the fate of Tyre, 
 of Babylon, of Persepolis, and of Rome, will be ours ! 
 The wave of pollution and infamy, yea, of final extinc- 
 tion will roll over our whole land. Our posterity, riot- 
 ing amid the ample means of luxury, which we have taught 
 them to acquire, will urge their way to a returnless dis- 
 tance from the restraints of virtue and piety ; and so, 
 will ingulf the institutions for which our fathers bled, 
 together with themselves, in one common ruin. Oh, to 
 think of a period when future travellers will walk over 
 the ruins of our cities, and sitting on their broken col- 
 umns, under the pale beams of the disconsolate moon, 
 shall listen to the owl, the bittern, the satyr, the dragon, the 
 vulture, and each doleful creature, rioting in the cham- 
 bers from which the riot of our children expelled them ; 
 and howling from windows through which wanton 
 beauty once cast her poisonous glance upon tho 
 passer-by — to think of giving being to a nation of drunk- 
 ards and debauchees, whose inebriating habits shall dis- 
 qualify them for preserving, or appreciating the princi" 
 
354 POWER OF OUR RESOURCES, WELL EMPLOYED. 
 
 pies which are the glory of our age, or even a nation 
 whose energies shall be cramped by a load of unused 
 and useless wealth, must be in the highest degree ab- 
 horrent to every bosom that feels the pulsations of a 
 Christian, or even an American heart ! Let us teach it 
 to our children, and to our children's children, that wealth 
 is not to be used exclusively upon ourselves, that our only 
 security consists in moderately enjoying the pleasures 
 which it enables us to procure, and that it is given us 
 to be employed upon the improvement of the human cha- 
 racter and condition, as much as upon the support of our- 
 selves and families. 
 
 If a fair proportion of the future resources of this 
 country could be turned into channels that should render 
 it the means of affording instruction to every child on earth ; 
 of multiplying copies of the Bible, till they should equal the 
 number of its inhabitants, — that should give missionaries 
 to every district, — that should mitigate the rigors of pov- 
 erty, and alleviate the pains of sickness and sorrow :— 
 it would accomplish the double purpose of securing us 
 against plethoric abundance, and procuring for the world 
 an amount of good beyond all parallel. The task of 
 giving it such a direction may seem insurmountable j 
 but still it is really not more so, than to secure the tri'. 
 umph of any virtue. And Christians are taught, not to be 
 deterred from a good undertaking by the obstacles that 
 lie in its way. Who had less reason that commends 
 itself to human calculation, to expect the triumph of their 
 cause, than the founders of our faith ? And yet, did they 
 shrink from their work ? It is not so difEcult as may 
 
EFFORT AT GUIDING THEM, A DUTY. 355 
 
 seem, to imbue the mind of this nation with correct sen- 
 timents in regard to the use of money. Let children be 
 earl)* inured to a system of charity, and instructed in the 
 principles of the duty ; let it receive the attention it de- 
 serves, in Sunday Schools ; let it be a subject of calm 
 discussion and faithful appeal, from the pulpit ; let this be 
 done, as disconnected from the direct purpose of obtaining 
 contributions; in fine, let it be an element of universal edu- 
 cation, as much as the science of numbers, or the existence 
 of God ; and an impression may in time be produced, that 
 will affect all the pecuniary interests of this nation, and 
 roll back the tide of desolation, which now threatens to 
 overwhelm us. 
 
 Indeed, a great point will be secured towards the 
 achievement of this result, when all the members of the 
 church in this land come to act upon the principles of 
 their religion, and the vows of their consecration to 
 God, in the use of their earthly treasures. In this way 
 religion, science, virtue, civilization, and every influence 
 calculated to bless and beautify the soul and society of 
 man, will go forth from our land as brightness, and the 
 glory of the Lord as a lamp that burneth. 
 
EXTRACTS OF LETTERS 
 
 TO THE 
 
 PUBLISHERS. 
 
 Uev. Mr. Church has read to me in manuscript a large 
 part of his treatise on the Philosophy of Benevolence, and I have 
 examined other portions of the work, so that I am, in some 
 measure, prepared to form an opinion of its character. 
 
 Its object is to determine the right use of property, or to 
 ascertain and define the fundamental principles of benevolent 
 effort — its plan is to investigate the dictates of nature and the 
 teachings of revelation relative to the subject, in order to thence 
 deduce these principles — its leading maxim is, tliat industry and 
 acquisition should be directed to the development and culture of 
 the intellectual and moral nature of man, at least, as much as to 
 the sustentation and convenience t)f his animal nature— and its 
 manner of illustration is, by disquisition, examples in real life, 
 and supposed cases, and in a form novel, various and mteresting, 
 so that a theme naturally dry is rendered highly attractive. 
 
 This objpct W\\\ commend itself to the approval of all, who 
 are duly concerned for the moral and intellectual elevation of 
 their species. The plan is truly philosophical and accordant 
 with nature— the principles will be approved by those whose 
 sentiments agree with the general harmonies of truth — and the 
 illustrations will render its perusal pleasant. 
 
 All, who have thought much on the subject, have felt the 
 necessity of investigation, in order to ascertain and fix the true 
 principles of benevolent action. Here, then, is a wide field for 
 research and comparison and deduction. And Mr. Church is 
 among the first to attempt its culture. As he travels an almost 
 untrodden path, if he, occasionally, should err in a department 
 where experiment must test the correctness of theory, still, the 
 attempt itself is praiseworthy, and his eminent success in it will 
 be alike honorable to himself, and beneficial to the community. 
 
 The Author has reviewed some departments of political 
 economy, and detected numerous defects in the structure of 
 society, and in the operations of governments. He has shown, 
 too, that there is much deficiency in the Christian character of 
 the present age, when compared with the elevated standard of 
 the New Testament. He avers that the accumulation of wealth 
 is a pregnant source of danger to this country, and that its 
 beneficent appropriation to suitable objects, and on correct 
 
Extracts of Letters to the Publishers. 
 
 principles, is the only preventive of national and individual 
 
 disaster. 
 
 The work is ahly written ; the writer is patient in research, 
 accurate and lucid in his statements, logical in his reasoning, 
 and happy in his illustration. The reader will find several 
 beautiful and well sustained portraitures of characters, with 
 some historical sketches, and a large amount of pertinent 
 remark. 
 
 I consider the work highly seasonable ; it is presented pre- 
 cisely at the conjuncture when benevolent feeling is exxited, and 
 needs direction. Benevolence, at present, seems to be rather a 
 feeling prompting to effort, than the systematic action of prin- 
 ciple according to specific rules. And this work wisl impart 
 necessary instruction to those who are inclined to perform their 
 duty ; and it will greatly facilitate the labors of those who are 
 engaged in the management of our great public charities. 
 
 In my opinion, the publication and extensive perusal of the 
 Philosophy of Benevolence would gri.'atly promote the best in- 
 terest of the community; and I hope, therefore, that it will 
 soon pass through the press into the hands of the reading 
 public. 
 
 JONATHAN GOING. 
 
 The Subscriber has read, with much attention and interest, 
 the MS. of Mr. Church's work, on the principles which should 
 guide men in the employment of their property. The question 
 is a practical one of the highest importance, and yet, unlike 
 most questions of a practical kind, has been but seldom and 
 hastily treated, and is embarrassed with very considerable difficul- 
 ties. The sentiment has become a common one, that the principled 
 of the Bible, as to alms-giving, needed to be spread before the 
 churches, and that the feelings of the Christian public in this 
 matter needed both excitement and guidance. Mr. C. seems to 
 the subscriber to have expended upon the subject much time and 
 much careful study. His book bears throughout the traci^s of 
 original and vigorous thinking. The style is clear and simple, 
 rismg in parts into the truest eloquence. Many of the illustra- 
 tions are of the most striking kind, and the mjnd of the readier is 
 borne along without weariness, even wher3 the discussion must 
 have cost the xA.uthor the most elaborate thought. As an 
 attempt to bring the principles of a favorite science of our age 
 and nation. Political Economy, into captivity and subjection to 
 the law of Christ — as an endeavor to stimulate, into gr.ater 
 liberality. Christians not yet sensible of these obligations, and 
 to guide that liberality, where it already exists, more wisely 
 and successfully — as a work of research and yet of popular 
 
Extracts of Letters to the Publishers, 3 
 
 interest — and as a work well-timed to the confessed wants of 
 the age, the Subscriber, without adopting every position made 
 by the Author, would most cheerfully commend the treatise, as 
 one well deserving to be studied by all that would learn and dis- 
 charge their duties as the stewards of God, holding his posses- 
 sions but for the interests of his cause, and the general good of 
 their race. 
 
 WILLIAM R. WILLIAMS. 
 New-York, 5th April, 1836. 
 
 In the above recommendation I most cheerfully concur, 
 having perused nearly the whole manuscript with intense in- 
 terest. It is a work that cannot fail to meet with the approba- 
 tion of well-informed Christians of all denominations, and is 
 hiffhly calculated to excite popular interest in the coinmunity. 
 
 ARCHIBALD MACLAY. 
 
 I have heard various parts of a new work, entitled the Philo- 
 sophy of Benevolence, written by the Rev. Mr. Church, and so 
 far as I have had opportunity to examine it, I am highly pleased 
 both with the plan and its execution. In an age so interesting 
 as the present, when all the resources of the Church should be 
 brought into requisition for promoting the conversion of the 
 world, this work may, in my opinion, be eminently useful for 
 impressing the consciences and the hearts of Christians with 
 their obligation to consecrate not merely their influence, but a 
 large portion of their property^ for the execution of tho^ie 
 schemes of benevolence which involve the honor of their Master, 
 and the salvation of those hundreds of millions who are perish- 
 ing without vision or hope, and I therefore take great pleasure 
 in recommending this work to the patronage and perusal of the 
 religious public. 
 
 ALEX. PROUDFIT. 
 Col. Rooms, N. Y. April 8th, 1836. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Church has acquainted me with the general 
 plan of his work on the Philosophy of Benevolence, and has read 
 to me several chapters of it. The subject discussed is, obviously, 
 one of great importance. And I feel a pleasure in saying that 
 the plan of the work is well conceived ; the style spirited and 
 vigorous ; and the general execution of it, in my judgment, such 
 as to secure it an extensive patronage with the religious public. 
 It seems to me that the publication is well-timed. I trust it will 
 accomplish much good. 
 
 A. CASWELL. 
 Prof, of Math, and Nat. Philos., in Brown University. 
 
4 Extracts of Letters to the Publishers. 
 
 I cheerfully concur in the sentiments and commendatory 
 remarks of Rev. Prof. Caswell. 
 
 GUSTAVUS F.DAVIS. 
 June, 1836. 
 
 Having- been favored wish the perusal of a large portion oi 
 the manuscript of Mr. Church on the Philosophy of Benevolencei 
 I concur, with the Rev. Dr. Milnor and others, in commending 
 it to the public. Its desig-n appears to me to have been well 
 conceived, and its execution to be highly creditable to the intel- 
 lect and the heart of its Author. Such a work, at the present 
 time, will not fail to- be appreciated by the friends of religion, 
 and of the church of Christ, in its aspects towards the whole 
 world, while the variety of its topics and the vivacity of its dis- 
 cussions and illustrations, are well suited to interest and instruct 
 a large class of general readers. Let it be published, and it 
 will soon no longer need "letters of commendation from us." 
 
 ABSALOM: PETERS. 
 New-York, April 9th, 1836. 
 
 I have heard Mr. Church rend the outline of his manuscript 
 work, entitled the Philosophy of Benevolence, and I have had the 
 opportunity of examining it more fully, during the time it was 
 left with me. 
 
 The Philosophy of Benevolence is a subject of high impor- 
 tance, and is calculated, in this age of unusual moral enterprise, 
 to excite the intense interest of every man who loves his country, 
 and the cause of our blessed Redeemer. 
 
 No author, of course, asks any one to endorse every parti- 
 cular opinion and sentiment which he advances. It is with the 
 soundness of his theory, and the execution of his book, that we 
 have mainly to do, in recommending it to the favorable attention 
 of the public. Mr. Church has, I conceive, done great justice 
 to his subject. In advocating the best of causes, he appears 
 before us, uniformly, as a bold, uncompromising, sound, and 
 warm-hearted Christian ; and he reasons with the ease and the 
 tact Qf a well-disciplined philosopher. His way of treating his 
 subject is novel and interesting ; his manner is clear and sys- 
 tematic ; and he seldom fails to delight,, and even to captivate, 
 while he is intent on instruction. The whole book is a good 
 specimen of fine writing ; the style is uniformly simple and 
 polished, and often exhibits uncommon vigor and eloquence. 
 
 I know of no book on this subject at all to be compared with 
 this work of Mr. Church ; and having risen from the perusal 
 of it, delighted and instructed, I deem it merely an act of justice 
 to the Author, to express my persuasion that this book, from the 
 nature of the subject, from the attractive mode of the discussioQ 
 
Extracts of Letters to the Publishers. 5 
 
 sustained throughout, and from the masterly style of the whole 
 execution thereof, needs only to be known, in order to its be- 
 coming a very popular American work. 
 
 W. C. BROWNLEE. 
 New-York, April 6th, 1836. 
 With the same means of judging as those of Dr. Brownlee, 
 I am happy to express my entire concurrence in the sentiments 
 expressed above, in relation to the work in question. 
 ^ GEO. BUSH. 
 
 Having had the pleasure of hearing a considerable portion of 
 the above mentioned work read by its Author, I am free to de- 
 clare my opinion, that the commendations bestowed by the Rev. 
 Dr. Brownlee, in his recommendatory ^certificate, are by no 
 means exaggerated. There may be remarks to which full assent 
 cannot be given, bnt the general scope and tendency of its 
 design is excellent, and while the whole subject is admirably sus- 
 tained by argument and illustration, and the style in which it is 
 written above the common order of composition, its peculiar 
 adaptation to the circumstances of the present times, invests it 
 with a practical interest, that cannot but secure for the work a 
 very general perusal by all the friends of systematic Christiaa 
 beneficence of every name. 
 
 JAMES MILNOR. 
 New- York, 8th April, 1836. ' 
 
 I take great pleasure in saying, that after having heard con- 
 siderable portions of a work, by the Rev. Mr. Church, called the 
 Philosophy of Benevolence, I have formed a very favorable opinion 
 of the design of the Author and of the manner of executing it. 
 The reader, if I mistake not, in the progress of this volume, 
 will find himself instructed on a subject which has been greatly 
 overlooked, and greatly depreciated. 
 
 GARDINER SPRING. 
 New- York, April, 1836, 
 
XEAVZTT, XORD & CO., 
 
 PUBLISHERS AND BOOKSELLERS 
 
 Have in Press, and will immediately publish, 
 
 THE BAPTISTS IN AMERICA-being the Journal of the Dele- 
 gation from the Baptist Union in England to their sister Churches in- 
 America— by Drs. Cox and Hoey. 
 
 The ELEMENTS OF POLITICAL ECONOMY, by Rev. Fban- 
 cisWayland, D. D. 
 
 SACRED LYRICS, or DEVOTIONAL POETRY,-24mo. froia 
 the 13th London Edition. 
 
 A New Edition of BARNES' NOTES ON THE GOSPELS, re- 
 vised in accordance with? the views of the denomination of Baptist 
 Christians. The following is the preface of the Publishers to the Notes 
 on the Gospels. — 
 
 The Noles on ihe Gospels, prepared by Mr. Barnes, have been published (hree years, a*id have 
 obtained llie favor of the Chrisilaii pubhc sc far as lo men wiih a Tery extensive oircufation. The 
 fact thai iliey are adapted lo Sahbalh Scliools, has been the occaiion of their having been inlro- 
 daced nc only into schools connected with the religious denomination to which ^ r. Barnes 
 belongs, bill also extens vely into tho-^e connecU'd witli otherdenominaiions. Many of the teachers 
 of schools under the care of Baptist churclies, bad also introduced ihem, and were satisfied with 
 the general plan and execution of the " Notes " But it is weil known, that while between the 
 Baptist and other chnicbes there is no material difference of doctrine, yet they have differed in 
 their expositions of the texts in the New 'restameni, which relate to the subject ■ f ( hristian bap- 
 tism, and lIuHlhis difference is, in their view, of so much importance, as great]/ to obstruct the 
 onrrency of books in their denomination, wlijcb present an exptiaiiion different from theirs. It 
 ■was mggesled, iherefnre, lo the I'ublish rs, by much retpecled g. ntlenien connected with that 
 denominat on, that perhaps, while the main stmcture and form of the '• Notes" should be 
 retained, yet that a few changes inight be made that would remove this obstacle lo a free (tircula- 
 tion among them, and permit them to recommenti and use the work without this restriction. At 
 this stiKgestion, and with the con&eni of Mr. Barnes, ilie Hublishers have cuinmitted the work to 
 the Rev. Stow, who has careftdly revised it, and changed such expressions as would bring it into 
 accord<ince wiih the views of the Baptist denomination. 
 
 Of course Mr Barnes is not to be regarded as rc-spunsiblc f i r these changes, nor are they to be 
 understood as expressing liis views, or as implyii.g that his views have undergone any change on. 
 the proper interpieta'iun of these passages. He is responsible only tor giving permission, in a work 
 which is still essentially and almost entirely'his, for Chriaiian liberty, to bretiiren of another deno- 
 mination, to express their views in a work of his, on a matter that he does liot dcim vital in regard 
 to Chtislian doctrine. His views are expressed in the original edition ; Ihe views expressed in thin, 
 on these points, are to be regarded as those of Mr. Stow, nnd of tlie Baptist denominHtii!n. 
 
 In this edition, the changes wnich have been made by Mr Stow are ind cated at ilie commence- 
 ment and the close by brackets, | ]. 'I he chanties refer simply and solely lo tlie places 
 which speak of b up t i s in. The other parts of the work are struck Irom the Stereotype plates 
 which have been used n the former editions The changes which have been made bv .vir. Stow 
 occur in the f' llowing pages, viz vol i. pp. 31 33, 34, 37, 39. 189, 310, 341, 342, 37.5, 37£, and vol. 
 ii. pp. 166, 190, 197, 198. Thr.neh the number of pages that have been nwjtJified may appear lo 
 be considerable, yet both the Reviser ai.d tlie l-'ublishers have been surprised that it was needful lo 
 change so small an amotinl of mailer In the first vohime the aggregate of liie chai.ges made by 
 Mr. Stow does not exceed one page and a half, and in volume second amounts lo less 
 tbnn one page. 
 
 To prevent the pos-ibility of error in purchasing the volumes, the Publishers have changed the 
 title page so as to indicate prominently the edition, and have also indicated il on the back of the 
 Tolume. 
 
 The Publishers are gratified for Ihe favor with which the work has been received by he Chris- 
 tian public. They have only to ejtpress the wish, that, under the Divine blessing, il may be still 
 made extensively the means of enlightening the rising general. on in tlie knowledge if divine uu;h, 
 and guiding them in the way of holini ss and life< 
 NEW-yURK, ISO Broadway, June, 1836. LEAVITT, LORD & CO. 
 
 Mr. Baenes has also prepared a volume on the ACTS OF APOS- 
 TLES and one on ROMANS, with Question Books for the use of Bible 
 Classes and Sabbath Schools. Nearly 50,000 vols, of these remarkably 
 popular commentaries have been sold within a short time of their pub 
 lication. 
 
Works Published by Leavitt, Lord <^ Co. 7 
 
 RECOMMSNDATIONS OF BARNES' NOTES. 
 
 From Abbot's Religious Magazine. 
 
 We have previously, in a brief notice, recommended to our readers 
 Barnes' Notes on the Gospels. But a more extended acquaintance 
 with that work has very much increased our sense of its value. We 
 never have opened any commentary on the Gospels, which has afforded 
 us so much satisfaction. Without intending in the least degree, to dis- 
 parage the many valuable commentaries which now aid the Christian 
 in the study of the Bible, we cannot refrain from expressing our grati- 
 tude to the Author, for the interesting and profitable instructions he has 
 given us.— The volumes are characterized by the following merits. 
 
 1. The spirit which imbues them is highly devotional. ]t is a de- 
 TOtion founded on knowledge. It is a zeal guided by discretion. 
 
 2. The notes are eminently intellectual. Apparent difficulties are 
 fairly met. They are either explained, or the want of a fully satisfac- 
 tory explanation admitted. There is none of that slipping by a knot 
 which is too common in many commentaries. 
 
 3. The notes are written in language definite, pointed and forcible. 
 There is no interminable flow of lazy words. Every word is active 
 and does its work well. There are no fanciful expositions. There ie 
 no tedious display of learning. 
 
 There may be passages in which we should differ from the writer 
 in some of the minor shades of meaning. There may be sometimes 
 an unguarded expression which has escaped our notice. We have not 
 scrutinized the volumes uith the eye of a critic. But we have used 
 them in our private reading. We have used them in our family. And 
 we have invariably read them with profit and delight. 
 
 We have just opened the book to select some passage as an illustra- 
 tion of the spirit of the work. The Parable of the rich man and Laza- 
 rus now lies before us. The notes explanatory of the meaning of the 
 parables, are full and to the point. The following are the inferences, 
 which Mr. Barnes deduces. 
 
 " From this impressive and instructive parable we may learn, 
 
 " 1. That the souls of men do not die with their bodies. 
 
 " 2. That the souls of men are conscious after death ; that they do 
 not sleep, as some have supposed, till the morning of the resurrection. 
 
 " 3. That the righteous are taken to a place of happintss immedi- 
 ately at death, and the wicked consigned to misery. 
 
 " 4. That wealth does not secure us Irom death. 
 
 " How vain are riches to secure 
 Their hau^-hty owners fioni the grave. 
 
 ' " The rich, the beautiful, the gay, as well as the poor, go down 
 to the grave. All their pomp and apparel ; all their honors, their 
 palaces and their gold cannot save them. Death can as easily find his 
 way into the mansions of the rich as into the cottages of the poor, and 
 the rich shall turn to the same corruption, and soon, like the poor, be 
 undistinguished from common dust, and be unknown. 
 "5. We should not envy the condition of the rich. 
 
 " On slippery rocks I see them stand, 
 And fiery billows roll below. 
 
 " 6. We should strive for a better inheritance, than can be possessed 
 in this life, 
 
 «' ' Now I esteem their mirth and wine, 
 Too dear to purchase with my blood, 
 Lord 'lis enough that thou art mine, 
 My life, my portion, and ray God.' 
 
8 Works Published by Leavitt, Lord <^ Co, 
 
 RECOMMENDATIONS OP BARNES' NOTES. 
 
 " 7. The sufferings of the wicked in hell will be indiscribably great. 
 Think what is represented by torment, by burning flame, by insuppor- 
 table thirsl, by that state when a single drop of water would afford 
 relief. Remember that all this is but a representation of the pains of 
 the damned, and that this will have no relief, day nor night, but will 
 continue from year to year, and age to age, and without any end, and 
 you nave a faint view of the sufferings of those who are in hell. 
 
 '• 8. There is a place of suffering beyond the grave, a hell If there 
 is not, then this parable has no meaning. It is impossible to make any 
 thing of it unless it is designed to teach that. 
 
 "9. There will never he any escape from those gloomy regions. 
 There is agulf fixed— ^.reri, not moveable. Nor can any of the damned 
 beat a pathway across this gulf, to the world of holiness. 
 
 " 10. We see the amazing folly of those, who suppose there mpy be 
 an end 10 the sufferings of the wicked, and who on that supposition 
 seem willing to go down to hell to suffer a long time, rather than go 
 at once to heaven. If a man were to suffer but a thousand years, or 
 even one year, why should he be so foolish as to choose that suffering, 
 rather than go at once to heaven, and be happy at once when he dies 7 
 
 " 11. God gives us warning sufficient to prepare for death. He has 
 sent his word, his servants, his Son ; he warns us by his Spirit and 
 his providence, by the entreaties of our friends, and by che death of 
 sinners. He offers us heaven, and he threatens hell. If all this will 
 not move sinners, what would do it? There is nothing that would. 
 
 " 12. God will give us nothing farther to warn us. No dead man 
 will come to life, to tell us what he has seen. Jf he did, we would not 
 believe him. Religion appeals to man, not by ghosts and frightful appa- 
 ritions. It appeals to their reason, their conscience, their hopes, and 
 their fears. It sets life and death soberly before men, and if they will 
 not choose the former they must die. If you will not hear the Son of 
 God, and the truth of the Scriptures, there is nothing which you will 
 or can hear; you will never be persuaded, and never will escape the 
 place of torment." 
 
 If we have any influence with our readers, we would recommend 
 them to buy these volumes. There is hardly any Christian in the land, 
 who will not find them an invaluable treasure. 
 
 Extract of a Letter from, a distinguished Divine of New England^ 
 
 It (Barnes' Notes) supplies an important and much needed deside- 
 ratum in the means of Sabbath School and Bible Class instruction. 
 
 Without descending to minute criticism, or attempting a display of 
 learning, it embraces a wide range of general reading, and brings out 
 the results of an extended and careful investigation of the most impor- 
 tant sources of Biblical knowledge. 
 
 The style of the work is, as it should be, plain, simple, direct ; often 
 vigorous and striking; always serious and earnest. 
 
 It abounds in fine analyses of thought and trains of argument, ad- 
 mirably adapted to aid Sabbath School Teachers in their responsible 
 duties; often too, verv useful to Ministers when called suddenly to 
 prepare for religions meetings, and always helpful in conducting the 
 excercises of a Bible Class. 
 
 Without vouching for the correctness of every explanation and senti- 
 ment contained in the Notes, its author appears to have succeeded very 
 happily in expressing the mind of the Holy Spirit as revealed in those 
 parts of the New Testament which he has undertaken to explain. 
 
Works Published by Leavitt, Lord ^ Co. 9 
 
 RECOMMENDATIONS OF BARNES' NOTKS. 
 
 The theology taught in these volumes, arawn as it is from the pure 
 fountain of truth, is eminently common sense and practical. 
 
 It has little to do with theory or speculation. 
 
 Th^ author appears not to be unduly wedded to any particular school 
 or system of theology, but to have a mind trained to habits of indepen- 
 dent thinking, readily submissive to the teachings of inspiration, but 
 indisposed to call any man master, or to set up any thing in opposition 
 to the plain testimony of the Bible. 
 
 We would here say, once for all, we consider Barries' Notes the 
 best commentary for families we have seen.— A^. E- Spectator. 
 
 If the degree of popular favor with which a work of Biblical instruc- 
 tion is received by an intelligent Christian community be a just crite- 
 rion of its value, the volumes which the Rev. Mr. Barnes is giving the 
 Church are entitled to a high place in the scale of merit.— N. Y. Evang^ 
 
 From Review of the Gospels in Biblical Repertory. 
 
 We have only to say further, by way of introduction, that we ad- 
 mire the practical wisdom evinced by Mr. Barnes in selecting means 
 by which to act upon the public mind, as well as his self-denying dili- 
 gence in laboring to supply the grand defect of our religious education* 
 Masterly exposition, in a popular fora., is the great disideratum of the 
 Christian public. 
 
 The Notes are always readable, and almost always to the point. 
 Nothing appears to have been said for the sake of saying something. 
 This is right. It is the only principle on which our books of popular 
 instruction can be written with success. Its practical value is evinced 
 by ttie extensive circulation of the work before us, as well as by the 
 absence of that heaviness and langor, which inevitably follow from a 
 verbose style, or the want of a definite object. 
 
 Mr. Barnes' explanations are in general brief and clear, comprising 
 the fruit of very diligent research. 
 
 We have been much pleased with his condensed synopsis of the 
 usual arguments on some disputed points, as well as with his satisfaC" 
 lory solution of objections. 
 
 But Mr. Barnes has not been satisfied with merely explaining the 
 language of the text. He has taken pains to add those illustrations 
 which verbal exposition, in the strict sense cannot furnish. The book 
 is rich in archaeological information. All that could well be fathered 
 from the common works on biblical antiquities, is wrought into the 
 Notes upon those passages which need such elucidation. 
 
 In general we admire the skill witli which he sheds the light of 
 archaeology and history upon the text of scripture, and especially the 
 power of compression which enables him to crowd a mass of know- 
 ledge into a narrow space without obscurity. 
 
 While the explanation of the text is the primary object kept in view 
 throughout these notes, religious edification is by no means slighted. 
 Mr. Barnes' devotional and practical remarks bear a due proportion to 
 the whole. 
 
 From what we have said it follows of course, that the work before 
 us has uncommon merit. Correct explanation, felicitous illustration, 
 and impressive application, are the characteristic attributes of a suc^ 
 cessful commentary. Though nothing can be added in the way of com- 
 mendation which is not envolved in something said already, there are 
 two detached points which deserve perhaps to be distinctly stated- W© 
 
10 Woi^ks Published by Leavitt, Lord 4* Co. 
 
 are glad lo see that Mr. Barnes not only shuns the controversial mode 
 of exposition, but often uses expressions on certain disputed subjects, 
 which, in their obvious sense, convey sound doctrine in its strictest form. 
 What vanity of meanmg these expressions may admit of or are likely 
 to convey, we d > not know ; but we are sure that in their simple, ob- 
 vious meaning they are strongly Calvinistic in the good old sense. 
 
 The other point to which we have alluded is Mr. Barnes' frankness 
 and decision in condemning fanatical extravagance and inculcating 
 Christian prudence. 
 
 With rpspect to Mr. Barnes' style we have little to say beyond a 
 general commendation. The pains which he has wisely taken to be 
 brief, have compelled him to write well. 
 
 PRIVATE LIFR OF GEN. LAFAYETTE, by (his intimate 
 friend and surgeon) Mr. Jules Cloquet, 2 vols 12mo This very inte- 
 resting work IS composed of materials left the distinguished wriier by 
 the general himself. It abounds with characteristic anecdotes, original 
 letters, and other documents, which cast a new and pleasing light on 
 the character of one of the greatest and best benefactors of the human 
 race. The volumes are embellished with numerous engravings (45) 
 executed m Paris, where the translation of the original work was made 
 under the eye of the author. It is published simultaneously in Paris, 
 London, and New- York. 
 
 CHEEVER'S DEFENCE, a defence in abatement of judgment 
 for an alleged libel, in the story entitled, " Inquire at Amos Giles' 
 Distillery." 18mo. 112 pp. 
 
 THE FLOWER GARDEN— a new botanical work. 1 vol. 12mo. 
 4 colored plates, 180 pp. This is a monthly Calendar of practical direc- 
 tions for the culture of flowers, adapted to the climate of the U. S. 
 with notes and observations by L. D. Gale, M. D., Professor of N. Y. 
 College of Pharmacy ai d University of the City of New-York. 
 
 PASTOR'S DAUGHTER, or the Way of Salvation explained ta 
 a young Inquirer, from reminiscences of the conversations of the late 
 Dr. Payson and his daughter. This work is ably written, and con- 
 tains illustrations of truth, and narratives of incident, which cannot 
 fail to awaken a lively interest and impart valuable instruction. 
 
 FEMALE STUDENT, (12mo. 400 pages) or LEC'lURES to 
 YOUNG LADIES, comprising Outlines and Applications on the difie- 
 rent branches of Female Education. For thf^ use of F.male Schools 
 and private Libraries ; delivered to the Pupils of the Troy Female 
 Seminary. By Mrs. Almlra H. Lincoln Phelps, late Vice-Principal 
 of that Institution : Author of Familiar Lectures on Botany. &c. 
 
 ZINZRNDORFF, (a new original poem,) with other poems ; beau- 
 tifully printed. By Mrs. L. H. Sigourm y. 1 vol. 12mo. 
 
 ZinzendorfT was the founder of a sect of Christians, who in their 
 labors of self-denying benevolence, and their avoidance of the slight, 
 yet bitter cause of controversy, have well preserved that sacred test of 
 discipleship, " to love one another." 
 
 SHIP AND SH(^RE, or Leaves from the Journal of a Cruise to 
 the Levant— by Rev. Waller Coltou, U. S. Navy. 
 
 Another contribution from a source to which nobody would have 
 thought of turning, but a few years ago; but which is now beginning 
 to yield fruit abundantly and of excellent flavor, sound, wholesome 
 and trustworthy ; not those warm-cheeked and golden pippins of the 
 Red Sea, which turn to ashes on the lips, but something you may bite 
 
Works Published hy Leavitt, Lord <^ Co. 11 
 
 with all your strength, of a grapy, and sometimes of a peachy flavon 
 The preface itself is a gem.— New England Galaxy. 
 
 Tiie more we see of the author, the better we like him. The Ship 
 and Shore ought to be generally read ; if not, alas for the public.~/6. 
 
 This book is written with sprightliness and ease, and may justly 
 claim to he considert-d an agreeable as well as an instructive compa- 
 nion. It is inscribed, in a brief but modest dedication, to Mrs. E. D. 
 Reed, a lady of uncommon refinement of manners and intellectual ac- 
 complishments. The descriptions of Maderia ana Lisbon are the best 
 we have read. The pages are uniformly enriched with sentiment, or 
 enlivened by incident.— The author, whoever he is, is a man of senli- 
 ment, taste and feeling.— -^os/on Courier^ 
 
 MEMOIRS OF MRS. WIN SLOW, late Missionary to India, by 
 her husband, llev. Miron Winslow— in a neat r2mo. with a Portrait. 
 
 MEMOIR OF HARLAN PAGE, 18mo. wuh a likeness. 
 
 We consider it very important that every indlvidval in our land, 
 who has consecrated himself to the Lord, should nad it and keep it as 
 a manual, that he mav know how to labor for the salvation of the souls 
 of men. — Christian Intelligencer. 
 
 CHILD'S BOOK OxN THE SABBATH. 18mo. 
 
 Christian part-nts will find it an excellent volume to place in the 
 hands of iheir children, to assist in forming just views of the nature 
 and value of the Sabbtth : and it ought to have a place in every family 
 and Sabbath School library. — Connecticut Courant. 
 
 THE SOCIAL FIRE-SIDE LIBRARY. 
 
 FIRE-SIDE SERIES.- A seri'-s of ISmo volum s, (of a popular and 
 practical character,) of original and select works prepared expr- ssly 
 for it, illustrating the religious and moral duties of life, family duties 
 and responsibilities, especially those of parents to children, and 
 children to parents, &lc. These volumes consist of 250 pages, retail 
 at 50 cents, and are sold singly or in selSj as preferred. 
 Vol. I.— Fire Side Piety. 
 Vol. II.— 7 he Mother's Friend. 
 Vol. 111. — China and the English. 
 
 Vol. IV. — Real Dialogiw.f on the Evidences of Christianity, 
 Vol. V. — Pastor's Daughter. 
 A GUIDE TO YOUNG DISCIPLES, by J. G. Pike. 18mo., and 
 RELIGION AND ETERNAL LIFE, or Irreligion and Perpetual 
 Ruin, by J. G. Pike. 18mo. Very valuable books by a popular writer. 
 PRACTICAL VIEW OF CHRISTIANITY, by the late Wm. 
 Wilberforce, Esq , M. P. I8mo., stereotyped ed., with a portrait and 
 introductory essay by Wilson. 
 
 THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION, Natural and Revealed, by 
 Joseph Butler, D. D , stereotype ed., with an introductory essay by 
 Rev. Albert Barnes* 12mo. 
 
 The two latter works are, perhaps, the ablest and most celebrated 
 of the kind in anv language. I'ens of thousands of each kind have 
 been circulated in" this country, as well as in Great Britain. 
 
 ELEMENTS OF MENTAL AND MORAL SCIENCE, designed 
 to exhibit the original susceptibilities of the Mind, and the Rules by 
 
12 Works Published by Leavitt, Lord <^ Co. 
 
 which any of its slates or feelings should be judged ; by Geo. Payne, 
 D. D., 2 ed. 1 vol. 12(no. 
 
 RHETORICAL HEADER, consisting of instructions for regulat- 
 ing the voice, with a rhetorical notation, illustrating inflection, enipha-* 
 sis and modulation ; with a course of Rhetorical Exercises, designed 
 for Academies and High Schools j by Ebenezer Porter, D. D., itth ed. 
 1 voK 12nio.^ 
 
 A PHILOSOPHICAL TREATISE ON THE WILL, by Thomas 
 C. Upham, 400 pp. Bvo. 
 
 ELEMENTS OF MENTAL PHILOSOPHY— by T. C. Upham, 
 Bowdoin College. 
 
 This work is printed in two forms ; the larger in two volumes, 
 designed for colleges ; the smaller, in one volume of 600 pages, de- 
 signed for academies and high schools. The work is too well known 
 to require remarks. 4000 copies have been published, and the editions 
 are nearly exhausted. 
 
 Without affrming that we agree with Professor Upham, in every 
 minute point of speculation, we have no hesitation in saying, that his 
 work is one of great value to the literary and religious community. 
 It indicates throughout not only deep and varied research, but p^-o- 
 found and laborious thought, and is a full, luciu and able discussion 
 of an involved and embarassing subject. The ttyle, though generally 
 diffuse, IS always perspicuous, and often elegant— and the wcrk, as a 
 whole, will add much to the reputation of the author, and entitle him 
 to rank among the ablest metaphysicians of our country. — Lit. and 
 Theolog. Rev. 
 
 RATiO DlSCIPLINiE, by T. C. Upham, I2mo.— This work gives 
 a more full view than any other of the doctrines, principles of govern- 
 ment, and usages of the congregationr'l churfhos. It has always been 
 regarded, so far as we have be. n able to learn, as a valuable authority 
 by the ministers and councils oi that uenomiiiation. Nearly out of 
 print. 
 
 A GRAMMAR OF THE HEBREW LANGUAGE, with a brief 
 Chrestomaihy lor the use of beginners, by George Bush, Prof. Heb. 
 and Orient. Lit. in the N. Y. City Univ. isiiy. 
 
 We hail sincerely this finely exocuted volume, with its tasteful dis- 
 play o( the University front labelled in gilt on the back, i'ut the out- 
 ward dress is a matter of minor moment. It is the marrow oi the 
 book which gives us pleasure. That it is calculated to be an important 
 accession to the eLjinentary works on Hebrew, no one acquainted with 
 the ripe scholarsliip of Prof. B., cm doubt, much less any one who 
 has examined the t^ook. The main objtc: of the author in preparing 
 it, as we learn from his well written preface, was to faciiitase the acqui- 
 sition of the holy tongue by the oimplijicalion of its elements. With 
 this book as a guide, the studen' will find the enir nee ipun the lan- 
 guage, instead of difficult and repulsive, easy afd inviiinr. Taken 
 altogeihi^r, we regard the grammar of Prof. B. as eminenuy adapied 
 to tne use of students in our Theological Seminaries ; an I we see not 
 why it should not successfully compute with the ablest of its predeces- 
 sors. In addition to its intrinsic merits, it has moreover the iccommen- 
 dation of being sold at the low price of $1 25.— iV. Y. Evangelist. 
 
Princeton Theological Seminary Libraries 
 
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