^/'^f 'M'Z 
 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. _ 1 
 
 
 
 , 
 
INFLUENCE OF THE BIBLE 
 
 IN IMPROVING THE 
 
 UNDERSTANDING 
 
 MORAL CHARACTER. 
 
 BY JOHN MATTHEWS, D. D. 
 
 President of the Theological Seminary at South Hanover, Indiana. 
 
 WITH A 
 
 PRELIMINARY ESSAY 
 
 BY ALBERT BAR^^. '' J_9^ ';^- 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: ^ 
 
 HARRISON HALL — 47 SOUTH THIRD STREET. 
 
 1833. 
 

 - \ 
 
 ■-0 
 
 yy^f. 
 
 Entered according to act of congress, by Harrison 
 Hall, in the year 1833, in the clerk's office of the district 
 for the eastern district of Pennsylvania. 
 
 A. WALDIE, PRINTER. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Preliminary Essay, 7 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Sect. 1. — Self-examination improves the under- 
 standing, 25 
 
 Sect. II. — Exhibitions of wisdom improve the 
 
 understanding, 43 
 
 Sect. III. — Exhibitions of greatness improve 
 
 the understanding, 74 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Sect. 1. — Economy and industry, taught in the 
 
 Bible — promote human happiness, 95 
 
 Sect. II. — Intemperance — Importance of truth, 
 justice, honesty — Effects of sinful 
 passions, 122 
 
 Sect. III. — Discontentedness, peevishness; pious 
 
 affections secure peace of mind, 150 
 
 Sect. IV. — Meekness, forbearance, kindness, &c. 
 
 promote human happiness, 179 
 
 Sect. V. — The gospel furnishes support in afflic- 
 tion — Influence of faith, hope and 
 love, 205 
 
 Sect. VI. — The religion of the Bible, the true 
 
 happiness of man, 229 
 
 1* 
 
PRELIMINARY ESSAY. 
 
 The following work on the ^' Influence of 
 the Bible on the intellectual and moral cha- 
 acter" was originally published in numbers, 
 in the Evangelical Magazine, conducted by 
 the late Rev. Dr. Rice. It is now, with the 
 consent of the author, collected and published 
 in this form, with the hope of diffusing more 
 extensively the views which it expresses in 
 regard to an important influence of the Sa- 
 cred Scriptures. 
 
 The work, it will be perceived, is written 
 in a chaste, correct, and manly style ; and 
 the argument is one which, it is believed, has 
 not been extensively pursued in the common 
 
books on the character and design of the Bi- 
 ble. So prominent, and important is what 
 may be called the decidedly religious influ- 
 ence of the Bible; so direct is its aim to se- 
 cure the conversion and salvation of men ; 
 that its collateral, or incidental, influences 
 are apt to be passed by or disregarded. The 
 ministers of religion are, from the nature of 
 their oflice, accustomed to present the former 
 influence ; and there have been few who 
 have been qualified or disposed to appreciate 
 the latter. A splendid passing eulogium, like 
 the celebrated commendation of Sir William 
 Jones, on the eloquence, and sublimity, 
 and fine writing of the sacred volume, is 
 about all the tribute which intellectual men 
 have been disposed to pay to the book of 
 God. The human mind seems almost to 
 have been satisfied with such a tribute ; and 
 men, in cultivating their own intellects and 
 moral feelings, have had recourse to other 
 fountains of knowledge. They have lavished 
 their encomiums on the ancient literary re- 
 mains of other nations than the Jewish ; and 
 have attributed the main or sole celebrity in 
 
writings of taste, poetry, and eloquence, to 
 the states of Greece, or to the happier days 
 of Ronae. One would almost fancy that there 
 had been a studied effort, having some sort 
 of resemblance to pious feeling, to maintain 
 the point that the sacred writings were con- 
 fined entirely to the business of religion ; and 
 that to use them for any other purpose, or to 
 introduce them into schools, or conversation, 
 or writings of taste, as adapted to elevate the 
 intellect, would be a kind of desecration and 
 perversion from their high design. It can- 
 not be denied that the cause of infidelity, and 
 wickedness would gain much, if these opin- 
 ions could be cherished. If the whole in- 
 tellectual world, if all the regions of fancy, 
 taste, and moral feeling, can be secured 
 by the writings of men who are destitute 
 of religion ; — if the impression can be 
 kept up, that the Bible is to be confined 
 simply to the iprowince o( religion^ scepticism 
 would consider its object as substantially 
 gained. In the view of most men, the reli- 
 gious department of human conduct is very 
 small and unimportant; and hence the de» 
 
10 
 
 sire which has been felt to maintain the po- 
 sition that the Bible is to be supposed capable 
 of extending its influence over that depart- 
 ment alone. It would augur most favourably 
 for the advance of religion, if the human 
 mind could be disabused of this belief which 
 infidelity so much delights to cherish. And 
 perhaps there would be no indirect way of 
 spreading religion so effectual, as by the cir- 
 culation of books adapted to show the intel- 
 lectual and moral tendencies of the Bible. 
 In all the departments of sacred learning, 1 
 know of none that opens a finer field than an 
 argument contemplating such an exhibition : 
 and designed to show that the scriptures are 
 adapted to all the original endowments of the 
 human intellect, and fitted to satisfy the ut- 
 most developements of the judgment ; the 
 most delicate sensibility of taste ; the far- 
 thest flights of the imagination ; and the 
 loftiest contemplations of the human intellect. 
 Such an argument could not be attempted in 
 the limits of an introduction like this. A few 
 mere hints are all that are allowable. 
 
 The following observations will commend 
 
11 
 
 themselves as true, and may serve as hints to 
 aid such reflections. 
 
 1. The Bible originated with a people 
 who had little intercourse with other nations. 
 No nation was ever more isolated than the 
 Jew^s. What knowledge they had, and 
 what they have exhibited in their books, was 
 not exotic, but sprung up, from some cause, 
 in the bosom of the nation itself. It is well 
 known that the Grecian philosophers tra- 
 velled extensively into foreign nations for the 
 avowed purpose of gaining knowledge. But 
 no Jew ever left his own land for this. It 
 was the policy, as well as the religion of the 
 nation, to remain separate from all other 
 people ; and their poets, and prophets, and 
 law-givers, never evinced the slightest doubt, 
 that they had within themselves — whatever 
 might be its source — all that was requisite to 
 guide them in matters of state, of morals, and 
 of religion. — The only qualification that 
 could be made to this remark, would arise 
 from their long residence in Egypt. But this 
 applies only to the founder of the Jewish 
 state, and not to the mass of the writers of 
 
12 
 
 the Old and New Testaments. David, So- 
 lomon, Isaiah, Jeremiah, &lc. were Jews ; and 
 their views, now recorded in the Scriptures 
 grew up in their own land — unformed by 
 foreign influence, and unaided by foreign 
 literature. 
 
 2. The Bible originated with a people 
 who made no pretensions to literature, and 
 who possessed little science or refinement of 
 manners. Their literature we have in the 
 single volume which we call the Bible, it 
 is the collection of all their history, their elo- 
 quence, and their songs ; the writings of all 
 their seers, sages, historians, and bards. Yet 
 there are here no pretensions to science; 
 and no evidence that they surpassed, or even 
 equalled, the writings of other past nations. 
 If we look for beautiful productions in the 
 arts, we cast our eyes not to Judea, but to 
 Greece. If we ask for profound investiga- 
 tions on moral and intellectual subjects, we 
 go at once to Athens. If we wish to ascer- 
 tain the result of rich and profound investi- 
 gation into the laws of nature, we look to 
 modern times, and are amazed at the disco- 
 
13 
 
 veries of reason in the various departments 
 of science. For none of these things do we 
 look to ancient Judea ; and in none of these 
 points would a modern philosopher be likely 
 to refer to the writings of prophets or apos- 
 tles. 
 
 3. Yet, if the Bible be a revelation from 
 God, it is clear that it would be adapted to 
 the human mind in all stages of society, and 
 in all advances of the sciences and the arts. 
 It is to be fitted to the race as such ; and it 
 becomes a very interesting enquiry whether 
 this has been kept in view by the Author of 
 the book of revealed truth. Are views of 
 science and mental philosophy recorded 
 there which are totally at variance with all 
 modern science, and with all the established 
 laws of mind? When we read an ancient 
 book of philosophy, or medicine, or science, 
 we are constantly compelled to encounter 
 positions which modern science has ascer- 
 tained to be false. Even the works of Lord 
 Bacon cannot be perused without melan- 
 choly reflections on his now obvious errors 
 in regard to many of the main facts in the 
 2 
 
14 
 
 physical and mental sciences. The litera- 
 ture of no nation, and no period of the world, 
 can be examined for a lapse of time equal to 
 that which intervened between Moses and 
 the death of the Apostle John, without meet- 
 ing with the supposed establishment and suc- 
 cessive overthrow of several systems of 
 morals, and science ; without numerous 
 contradictory statements, and fluctuations of 
 opinions in those subjects — probably without 
 much angry controversy. Even in books 
 which have no professed reference to those 
 subjects, the influence will be seen to have 
 insinuated itself, and to have diffused its spi- 
 rit, or its direct doctrines. 
 
 4. Another fact pertains to most of the 
 writings of men. They are adapted to a 
 particular class, or age ; and having per- 
 formed their ofliice they are laid aside. One 
 class is composed for men of science ; ano- 
 ther for the department of morals ; another to 
 occupy the regions of fancy. They are 
 formed for a particular age or time, and out 
 of their sphere, they are useless. Books for 
 the race are rare — books that will be read 
 
15 
 
 with equal interest in all climes, and by all 
 classes of men. There is some reason to 
 think that Shakespeare is almost the only au- 
 thor whose writings have this characteristic 
 of universality. And of all nations we should 
 probably have least expected this character- 
 istic of the writings of the Jews. No people 
 ever had more feelings that were exclusive, 
 or that less sympathised with the common 
 habits and sentiments of mankind. 
 
 5. Yet the Bible is adapted to the science 
 of all times. It contradicts none of the dis- 
 coveries of modern science ; it advances no 
 theory which stands in the way of its univer- 
 sal advancement. — Nay, it prepares the way 
 for those discoveries. After reading the Bi- 
 ble, and contemplating its sublime descrip- 
 tions of the Great Creator ; its lofty flights 
 of poetry in describing his perfections, and its 
 account of the magnificence of the v/ork of 
 creation, we are prepared to contemplate the 
 discoveries of modern astronomy. The sys- 
 tem of worlds which the modern astronomy 
 has revealed to our view, is just such an one 
 as the scripture account of the character of 
 
16 
 
 God, and of the work of creation, would lead 
 us to expect, and prepare us to appreciate. 
 What a striking discordance would be ob- 
 served between the Bible account of the 
 work of creation, and the limited and narrow 
 system of the universe presented in the an- 
 cient views of astronomy. 
 
 One other observation cannot fail to strike 
 us. It is that the language of the sacred 
 writers is so employed as to be adapted to all 
 the advances of science. It is capable of such 
 an extension or amplitude of meaning as to 
 cover the whole ground. At the same time 
 that it conveyed definite notions to the Jews 
 according to their views of science, it is 
 equally adapted to convey distinct, though 
 greatly enlarged views to us according to our 
 views of science. For example, the expres- 
 sion " The heavens declare the glory of God", 
 " day unto day uttereth speech and night 
 unto night showeth knowledge," would con- 
 vey a distinct and sublime conception to any 
 mind that had ever contemplated the heavens. 
 The language is adapted to convey that under 
 any system of astronomy. But the language 
 
17 
 
 is equally adapted to the state of the science 
 as it now exists. And to a mind in modern 
 times, under the advantage of the discoveries 
 of modern astronomy, how much more im- 
 pressive and enlarged is the view which this 
 language conveys to him than it could have 
 been when the expression was first used by 
 the Psalmist. One of the greatest improve- 
 ments in the practical effects of reading the 
 Bible in the advanced periods of the world 
 may result from attaching the ideas of future 
 discovery to the language used long since 
 adapted to that age and to this, conveying dis- 
 tinct and sublime expressions iAen, and deep- 
 ening those impressions now by the additional 
 beauty and sublimity of the discoveries 
 which man shall make in the works of God. 
 6. The same remark may be made in regard 
 to mental science. The true system of mental 
 philosophy will yet be found to have been ex- 
 pressed by the writers of the Old and New 
 Testaments. All other systems have had a 
 theory to defend, and have fluctuated with 
 the change of theory, or have fallen. All 
 other systems have left the operations of mind 
 2"^ 
 
in religion out of view, and have had an es- 
 sential, and an ultimately destructive defect. 
 The operations of mind in religion are as im- 
 portant, and as really the operations of mind, 
 as on any other subject. Those operations 
 the Scriptures have detailed. They have 
 presented man as he is ; and as the best way 
 of learning the true science of mental philo- 
 sophy is to study mff?i, so the best mode of 
 gaining that knowledge from books is from 
 those which are most in accordance with na- 
 ture. No other book presents man as he is, 
 but the Bible. Here is no varnishing, no dis- 
 guise, no deception. And perhaps mental phi- 
 losophers may yet learn, what they have been 
 slow yet to apprehend, that the study o^God'^s 
 revealed views of 7nan may conduce to a cor- 
 rect knowledge of the human mind far more 
 than any mere theory of philosophy. 
 
 7. With equal truth these remarks might be 
 extended to political science. To whatever 
 causes it may be attributed, it is certain that 
 from no book are to be derived so elevated 
 views of the rights of man, as from the sacred 
 scriptures. The circulation of the Bible has 
 
19 
 
 been the most certain way of diffusing just 
 views of liberty, and of the nature of civil 
 government. The amount of true liberty 
 in the world might be designated with great 
 certainty on a map, by drawing a line around 
 those regions where the Scriptures have had 
 the most free and extensive circulation. For 
 this it would be easy to suggest causes, which 
 will probably occur at once to most persons. 
 But i\\efact is known to all ; and one great 
 truth, from that fact, is pressing itself on the 
 attention of this generation, that the true way 
 of teaching all men their rights, of diffusing 
 the love of liberty, and of putting an end to 
 tyranny, is to diffuse over all the world the 
 sacred scriptures. 
 
 8. These remarks are made as introductory 
 simply to the following work; a work design- 
 ed to illustrate the influence of the Bible on 
 the understanding of man. The whole of 
 this influence is indeed incidental-^ yet it natu- 
 rally results from the main design of the 
 Bible, to raise up man to purity, and heaven, 
 and to make the most of the lapsed human 
 powers. With this design, it was indispensa- 
 
20 
 
 ble that the plan should be adapted to mind 
 in any of its developemcnts; to be in advance 
 of the human intellect at any stage of the 
 recovering process ; and to be fitted to en- 
 large, guide, and exalt the powers of man, in 
 whatever stage of intellectual advancement 
 it might find him. It has not failed. Mind 
 it finds fallen ; but fallen mind, whether re- 
 covered from the degradation of the CafFra- 
 rian, or whether revelling amid the creations 
 of its own genius like Milton or Cowper; or 
 whether in profound meditation like Boyle, or 
 Bacon, or Locke ; or whether measuring dis- 
 tant worlds like Newton, the Bible has shown 
 its power to enlarge, and to elevate. It is 
 still in advance of man, and will evince its 
 power to satisfy the demands of the human 
 intellect, as really as to sanctify and console 
 the human heart. 
 
 It is not denied, indeed, that its main de- 
 sign is to propose to fallen man a plan of re- 
 demption. With reference to this, should 
 be the main purpose of its perusal. In what 
 way it should be perused in order most efifect- 
 ually to secure this design, would demand a 
 
21 
 
 more protracted statement than is allowable 
 in this Introduction. A few simple hints 
 only can be offered: — 1. It should be studied. 
 It is an ancient book, and of course, many 
 things require attentive thought and enquiry 
 to understand them. 2. It should be studied 
 regularly. It is believed that not much profit 
 will be derived from it, unless it be made a 
 part of the business of hfe. 3. It should be 
 studied with prayer, God has given this book; 
 he only can open the heart to understand 
 practically his own will, and dispose the 
 mind to follow it. 4. It should be studied 
 with all the helps that may be accessible to 
 understand the geography, customs and his- 
 torical events referred to in the Bible. 5. It 
 should be studied systematically and in order. 
 Great facility will be found where a harmony 
 of the Old Testament, or the New, can be 
 procured, and the various portions of the 
 Bible be read in the order of time in which 
 they were written. 6. Different portions of 
 the Scriptures are to be read for different 
 objects. Though not systematically arrang- 
 ed, yet there are portions that are fitted to a 
 
22 
 
 particular state of mind. For the deep calm 
 purposes^of devotion, a Christian naturally 
 looks to the book of Psalms, and finds his 
 feelings expressed in the words of the sweet 
 singers of Israel. For doctrinal instruction, 
 one naturally turns to the Epistles to ascer- 
 tain the statement of the details of the Chris- 
 tian scheme. To see how piety was exempli- 
 fied in its highest state, and scenes of obloquy, 
 and persecution, we naturally recur to the 
 Gospels, exhibiting it in the example of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. To ascertain the evi- 
 dences of personal religion, the Gospel and 
 Epistles of John are particularly adapted. 
 If it be asked to what part of the Bible shall 
 an anxious enquirer look to know what he 
 must do to be saved, we should still direct 
 him also pre-eminently to the Gospel of John. 
 On this point enquirers often err. Ignorant of 
 the Bible, they take it up and open it at ran- 
 dom, and they may be directed to the path of 
 life. But they commonly need some direct, 
 simple, and plain statement of the elements 
 of the way of return to God ; and perhaps if 
 most anxious sinners could be confined in 
 
23 
 
 their attention to the third chapter of the 
 Gospel by John, it would do more than all 
 human teaching can do, in conducting them 
 to the Saviour. 
 
 ALBERT BARNES. 
 
 Philadelphia, October, 1833. 
 
PART I. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Self-examination improves the understanding. 
 
 The great design of the Bible is to quahfy 
 men for the life to come ; yet in producing 
 this effect, it is pleasing to know and observe 
 the direct and powerful tendency which it 
 possesses and exerts in qualifying them for 
 respectability and usefulness in this life. 
 When it is understood and received in the 
 love of it, the character, both intellectual 
 and moral, will be improved ; and under its 
 influence and its guidance, those habits will 
 be formed on which the happiness and pros- 
 perity of civil society very much depend. If 
 it could be divested of its spiritual tenden- 
 cies, of its influence in producing that holi- 
 ness^ without which no inan shall see the Lord, 
 it is still worthy of our grateful acknow- 
 
26 
 
 ledgment on account of its numerous and 
 benign effects on human life. 
 
 It will contribute very much to the im- 
 provement of the understanding. The mind, 
 as well as the body, will acquire habits from 
 the frequent repetition of the same exercises. 
 Those parts of the body which are em- 
 ployed in the performance of w^ork, requir- 
 ing strength, will acquire an enlargement 
 and firmness of muscle, fitting them for the 
 task, which, without this exercise they would 
 not possess, and which will render them 
 rather disproportionate to the other parts of 
 the same body. Instances of this kind come 
 under the observation of every person. Such 
 is also the case wnth the mind ; its vigour 
 and enlargement depend very much on its 
 habitual exercise. If circumstances confine 
 its operations to but few objects, and these 
 requiring but little intellectual effort to un- 
 derstand them, the mind will be contracted 
 in its capacity, and feeble in its powers. 
 But if the objects about which it is em- 
 ployed are diversified and difficult of com- 
 prehension, the mind w-ill become enlarged, 
 and its faculties will be strengthened. Some 
 minds, indeed, possess a native, restless, irre- 
 pressible vigour which will burst through the 
 restraints thrown around it by the most un- 
 favourable circumstances. You might as 
 
27 
 
 well expect to suppress the subterranean 
 fountains from bursting forth, and urging 
 their way to the wide ocean, or to quiet that 
 ocean with a word, as to expect that such a 
 mind will rest till it finds its own element: 
 it will struggle, it will rise until it reaches a 
 theatre presenting it with objects which will 
 give it, at once, employment, delight, and 
 improvement. In general, however, the in- 
 tellectual character of man depends on the 
 circumstances with which he is surrounded. 
 The objects to which the mind is habitually 
 applied impart to it something of their own 
 character. — If they are few and simple, they 
 will contract and enfeeble the mind ; if nu- 
 merous and complicated, they will enlarge 
 and strengthen it ; if grand and sublime, they 
 will give it a pleasing elevation and expan- 
 sion. 
 
 For this reason classical studies should hold 
 their place in literary institutions. They 
 are valuable, not on account of the useful 
 and practical information which they furnish, 
 but for the mental discipline which they give ; 
 for the habits of discrimination and logical 
 reasoning which the student acquires ; habits 
 which cannot fail to be highly useful in every 
 department of life, in every exercise of the 
 understanding. For this reason the science 
 of astronomy is always delightful and im- 
 
28 
 
 proving; the order, the connection, the gran- 
 deur of the objects embraced in this study 
 cannot fail to elevate and expand the mind. 
 
 On this principle it is, we affirm that the 
 Bible will improve the intellectual character 
 of the Christian. The objects which it pre- 
 sents to his consideration, and about which 
 his thoughts must be, with more or less in- 
 terest, employed, are numerous, complicated, 
 and beyond conception grand and sublime. 
 Their number will give variety to the exer- 
 cise of his mind ; their complex nature will 
 increase the power of discrimination, and 
 strengthen the reasoning faculty ; their infi- 
 nite magnitude and importance, their attract- 
 ive majesty and glory will give a conscious 
 and pleasing elevation and enlargement to 
 the whole soul. 
 
 The Christian is required to be ready al- 
 ways to give an answer to every man that 
 asketh him, a reason of the hope that is in him, 
 with meekness and fear. This implies that 
 all genuine religious hope is supported by 
 certain reasons, or evidence, with which he 
 is to become acquainted, and which he is to 
 ascertain, not by intuition, nor by miracle, 
 nor by any immediate revelation from God, 
 but by frequently and closely investigating 
 his own heart, with all its varied and com- 
 plicated exercises and emotions. He is also 
 
29 
 
 required to examine himself whether he be 
 in the faith, to know and to prove himself. 
 Examination, with a view to a correct de- 
 cision, implies the comparison of various 
 things with each other, and with some ac- 
 knowledged standard. Were there no spu- 
 rious exercises of a religious nature, none 
 which so nearly resemble the true, as, with- 
 out the strictest investigation, to endanger 
 the great interests of the soul, this examina- 
 tion would be unnecessary. But this is not 
 the case ; there are such spurious exercises 
 of the heart : every feature of the Christian 
 character has its counterfeit. The object of 
 examination is to discriminate between the 
 spurious and the genuine exercise, between 
 the true feature and its mere resemblance. 
 He is to examine whether his faith be the 
 living word of God, with all its energies, 
 transferred and rooted in the soul, working 
 by love, purifying the heart, overcoming the 
 world ; or a mere painting of fancy, nothing 
 but the images and workings of the imagina- 
 tion, or nothing but a collection of ideas, 
 without any transforming effect on the heart 
 and on the life. The true Christian loves 
 God. But he is not to admit, without im- 
 partial enquiry, that every emotion which he 
 feels, that every joyous glow which warms 
 his heart, is that love. He must ascertain 
 3* 
 
30 " 
 
 whether its principle is selfish, or spiritual 
 and generous ; whether it regards the whole 
 character of God, displayed through the 
 cross of Christ in the salvation of sinners, 
 or merely what is supposed to be the mercy 
 of God, but which in truth is little more 
 than a human weakness, and especially 
 whether it leaves him satisfied with a par- 
 tial observance of only some few precepts 
 of the gospel, or by its holy and ceaseless 
 workings, prompts him to sincere and uni- 
 form obedience to all the will of God, to the 
 whole system of Christian duty. He is to 
 love his fellow-christians, not because they 
 hold the same creed, and belong to the same 
 denomination with himself, but because they 
 bear the image of their common Saviour. 
 In like manner, every other afifection of his 
 heart is to be submitted to the same scru- 
 tiny ; his repentance, gratitude, meekness, 
 (Szc. 
 
 In this investigation he not only compares 
 these feelings with each other, but he com- 
 pares them with the word of God, which 
 he adopts as the standard, the only infallible 
 Judge in such cases. There he learns the 
 nature of all affections truly devout ; there he 
 learns the effect they will have on the tem- 
 per of his mind, and on his life ; he there 
 hears the voice of the Spirit, testifying what 
 
31 
 
 are the characteristic features of a child of 
 God. With this he compares the witness 
 of his own spirit, obtained by this careful 
 investigation ; if they agree together, he con- 
 cludes that he is a child of God. On this 
 concurrent testinnony of his own spirit and 
 the spirit of God his hope rests as its found- 
 ation ; this is the reason which he is ready 
 to give for the hope which he entertains of 
 acceptance with God, and of final salvation. 
 Again ; although the precepts of the Bible 
 are remarkable for their plainness and ex- 
 tent, yet a thousand cases will occur for 
 which there is no explicit direction. To 
 expect this in the Bible would be most 
 unreasonable ; such instructions would swell 
 the volume to an useless size. Circumstan- 
 ces may often surround the Christian, in 
 which he is compelled to act, which require 
 much deliberation to discover what course 
 he ought to pursue. Jn this state he is often 
 conscious of painful suspense ; and, if per- 
 mitted, would offer up the prayer that a 
 voice from heaven would decide the doubtful 
 case, or that a pillar of cloud would move 
 in the direction he ought to take. Neither 
 voice nor cloud, however, decides the case. 
 Inclination may prove an unsafe guide, and 
 lead him widely astray. He must consider, 
 he must compare, he must reason, he must 
 
32 
 
 judge for himself where the path of duty hes. 
 He will keep in view the great principles of 
 Christian morals laid down in the gospel •, 
 he will consider what aid can be derived 
 from the example of the Saviour ; he will 
 reflect on the tendency of the proposed 
 course, the effect it will probably have on 
 others, and on the interests of the church ; 
 he will especially anticipate, as near as pos- 
 sible the decision of his omniscient Judge. 
 Thus he will deliberate ; and finally take 
 that course for which there is the greatest 
 weight of reason, which he judges to be upon 
 the whole, best. Sometimes as he advances, 
 he is more and more cheered with the con- 
 viction that his decision was correct, that he 
 escaped from his difficulties by the right 
 direction; sometimes he advances with pain- 
 ful hesitancy; and sometimes he is convinced 
 that, though honest in his enquiries, yet he 
 was mistaken in his conclusion. 
 
 Now we maintain that this is as real a 
 process of reasoning as the acquisition of 
 language, or the study of science ; and that 
 it is as well calculated to improve the intel- 
 lectual faculties as either of these are. The 
 method of reasoning, and of reaching the 
 conclusion, as far as the nature of the case 
 will admit, is the method of Newton. That 
 great philosopher took nothing for granted 
 
33 
 
 which could be tested by experiment ; he 
 built no theories on mere conjecture, drew 
 no important conclusions from mere assump- 
 tion. His conclusions were derived from 
 principles well established; while evidence 
 derived from experiments, from analogy, 
 and from induction supported his principles. 
 This is the method of the Christian ; he 
 takes nothing for granted ; his conclusions do 
 not rest on mere assumption or conjecture. 
 He has the advantage of an experience both 
 extensive and diversified. His whole life is 
 a scene of trials ; and every trial brings his 
 principles to the test of experience. By this 
 experience he obtains much valuable know- 
 ledge, becomes wiser, and better qualified for 
 future usefulness. The conclusion that he 
 is a child of God, and his hope of accept- 
 ance, rest on the evidence of induction from 
 a number of particulars. Indeed this is as 
 complete an exemplification of this method 
 as can be found in the whole range of phi- 
 losophy. His faith, his love, his repentance, 
 his gratitude, &;c. are all examined separately; 
 but his conclusion and his hope do not rest 
 on the evidence furnished by either of these 
 alone ; but on that furnished by all of them 
 combined. Newton, convinced that every 
 effect must have an adequate cause, often 
 discovered the cause by considering the 
 
34 
 
 effect : and having ascertained the nature 
 and properties of the cause, with safety in- 
 ferred the effect which would result from its 
 operation. This is pre-eminently the method 
 of the Christian. He who believes that the 
 grass and the flowers of the field receive 
 their nicest tints and diversified hues of co- 
 louring from the pencil of divine skill, that a 
 sparrow cannot fall to the ground without 
 the special design of Heaven, cannot, and 
 does not believe that the devout affections 
 and pious dispositions of his heart are the 
 result of chance or of accident. All these 
 affections are distinctly traced to the word 
 of God, as their instrumental cause. The 
 rejoicing of his hope is produced by the 
 doctrine of the atonement ; the love which 
 warms his heart and cheers his journey 
 through life is kindled by the truth, that God 
 is love ; that reverence which bows his soul 
 within him is the effect of beholding the 
 majesty and holiness of the Great Jehovah, 
 Having learned the nature and tendency 
 of this truth, he calculates with certainty on 
 all the various and happy effects it will pro- 
 duce on the minds of others. This conclu- 
 sion inspires him with zeal to diffuse the 
 knowledge of this truth through the earth, 
 and to bring all men to feel its power in re- 
 forming the heart and the life. When he 
 
35 
 
 hears of the repentance of a sinner, even in 
 the remotest corner of the earth, on the 
 principles of analogy, he knows what those 
 feelings are, and by what means they are 
 excited. Newton sometimes generalised ; 
 that is, ascribed varions effects to the same 
 cause. The planets, so various in magnitude 
 and the velocity with which they move, at 
 such immense distances from each other and 
 from their common centre, are bound to- 
 gether in one complete and harmonious sys- 
 tem by the principle of attraction. This 
 same principle holds together the particles 
 of this earth, gives to it its solidity and figure, 
 and causes all the detached bodies with 
 which it is surrounded to adhere to its sur- 
 face. This same principle of attraction 
 unites together, with more or less firmness 
 of cohesion, the particles of every species, 
 and every separate piece of matter. This 
 great principle pervades, unites, and governs, 
 subordinate to the design of the Supreme 
 Ruler, the whole material universe, from 
 the sun in the centre, to the remotest planet 
 which revolves around him, even to the 
 wandering comet which flies off into distant 
 regions, where human observation cannot 
 reach. Every species and shape which 
 matter assumes, from the mightiest globe to 
 the smallest atom, feel and obey its power. 
 
36 
 
 How striking is the analogy between this 
 attraction and the Christian's faith ! Jesus 
 Christ is the sun and centre of the Christian 
 systen:!, of the moral universe. All Chris- 
 tians are united to him by faith ; by the same 
 faith they are united to each other. They 
 may live in ages and in regions of this world 
 widely remote from each other ; but united 
 by this principle, they are members of one 
 body, are formed into one system, compose 
 one family. By the same faith, through the 
 atoning blood of a Divine Saviour, they 
 obtain the pardon of sin, acceptance and 
 reconciliation with God. While this faith 
 pervades and unites the whole system, it 
 operates, in the hands of God the Spirit, 
 with vital and transforming energy in the 
 heart of each individual. By the word of 
 God, the knowledge and belief of which is 
 faith, the soul is begotten, or quickened, 
 when dead in trespasses and in sins, is 
 roused from a state of insensibility, the first 
 impression of spiritual things is made, a new 
 direction is given to the thoughts, and a new 
 impulse to the feelings. By the word of 
 God the Christian is born again ; by faith 
 his heart is purified ; by faith he walks, or 
 regulates his life ; by faith he sees and feels 
 the importance of spiritual realities ; by faith 
 he overcomes the world ; by the power of 
 
37 
 
 God through faith he is kept unto salvation. 
 The effects of attraction in the material sys- 
 tem, are not more numerous, important and 
 diversified, than are those of faith in the 
 Christian system. In perfect accordance 
 with the design of him who worketh all 
 things after the counsel of his own will, this 
 principle unites all the countless millions of 
 the redeemed to each other and to Christ, 
 through whom it obtains their pardon and 
 acceptance with God ; in each individual, 
 separately, its reforming energy is felt ; all 
 the faculties of his soul, all the affections of 
 his heart, all the ceaseless workings and 
 movements of his thoughts, feel its purifying 
 and decisive control. Newton, on every 
 side, and at no great distance, met with bar- 
 riers over which he could not pass, beyond 
 which his investigations could not with suc- 
 cess, be carried. He assured his disciples 
 that there existed, in the material universe, 
 a principle which he called attraction ; but 
 that he could not define to them the abstract 
 principle, otherwise than by its effects. He 
 told them that there were properties of mat- 
 ter so recondite as to baffle all his efforts to 
 detect and describe them. When he came 
 to these barriers, with a noble modesty, he 
 acknowledged his inability to proceed far- 
 ther: he would not amuse their credulity 
 4 
 
38 
 
 with mere conjectures respecting the dark 
 regions, forbidden to human enquiry. This 
 acknowledgment evinces the greatness of his 
 mind as clearly as do the numerous and 
 important discoveries which he made. Yet 
 on this account his system is not rejected. 
 The facts which he ascertained by experi- 
 ment, the principles which he illustrated 
 and proved from their effects, are all admitted 
 and received. The Christian also states his 
 facts, ascertained from numerous and various 
 experiments ; he offers, in support of his 
 principles, illustrations and proofs, as satis- 
 factory to the candid mind, as those of 
 mathematics. Within certain hmits his 
 vision and his comprehension are clear ; be- 
 yond those limits, he acknowledges there 
 are some things incomprehensible. He be- 
 lieves in the existence and operations of the 
 Holy Spirit, though he can comprehend 
 neither his existence nor the manner of his 
 operations. He feels and he witnesses im- 
 portant and numerous effects which he as- 
 cribes to this agency, and for which this be- 
 lief furnishes a satisfactory account. Why 
 should the wisdom of this world show itself 
 by rejecting this system or any part of it, 
 for reasons which bear with equal, if not 
 greater force against the Newtonian system ? 
 Why should more be expected from the ad- 
 
39 
 
 vocate of Christianity than is expected from 
 Newton ? In both systems there is a series 
 of well authenticated facts ; in both there are 
 many things perceived and comprehended 
 with sufficient clearness to answer all useful 
 purposes ; in both are some things incompre- 
 hensible, which can be known only by their 
 effects. Let both systems be viewed with 
 the same unjaundiced eye, and modesty will 
 induce these wise men to admit and receive 
 both. Finally ; Newton laid down^r^^jonVi- 
 ciples from which he never departed ; and 
 which aided and guided him in all his inves- 
 tigations. By these he catechised every new 
 phenomenon which met his observation, 
 until he ascertained its origin, the cause 
 by which it was produced, and the class 
 to which it belonged, if once satisfied on 
 these particulars, the fact or the discovery 
 was laid up for usefulness in future, as occa- 
 sion might require. But if no satisfactory 
 account could be obtained, the matter is left 
 for the present, and no use is made of it. 
 Thus he proceeded with safety, and made 
 those large additions to the stock of useful 
 knowledge which have crowned his name 
 with deserved and lasting renown. The 
 Bible contains the Jirst principles of the 
 Christian. By these he is directed and aided 
 in all his enquiries ; examines all the aspects 
 
40 
 
 which religion assumes: all the various and 
 conflicting opinions and customs which pre- 
 vail in this mutable world ; tries the exer- 
 cises of his own heart, and the actions of his 
 own life ; judges the profession and the life 
 of others. In this balance he weighs the 
 world that now is, and that which is to 
 come. All that meets the approbation of 
 this judge, he receives and treasures up for 
 usefulness in future ; that which appears 
 doubtful, he lets remain for farther con- 
 sideration; that which is condemned, he ut- 
 terly rejects and avoids. Hence he loves 
 this book, and esteems it more precious than 
 treasures of gold. Thus he advances along 
 the journey of life, passes through its tempt- 
 ations and its snares, bears its afflictions and 
 trials with safety ; and thus he will receive, 
 if not the admiration and applause of this 
 world, what is infinitely more important, the 
 blessing and approbation of God, his Judge. 
 Such is the field of investigation presented 
 to the Christian, and such the exercise fur- 
 nished to his understanding in proving him- 
 self, in keeping his heart, in guarding against 
 deception, in building himself up in the 
 comfort of hope, in ascertaining the path of 
 his duty. Nor is this exercise of the intel- 
 lect, this process of reasoning to be carried 
 on merely for a day or a year; but for every 
 
41 
 
 day and every year of his life. Every day 
 the movements of his heart are to be watch- 
 ed and examined ; every day the path of 
 duty is to be sought and pursued through all 
 the perplexing and changing circumstances 
 which may diversify his life. Without this 
 he cannot feel that joy and peace which 
 cheer and encourage him to persevere ; he 
 cannot be useful to the church ; he deserves 
 not the name of Christian. 
 
 Now we think it evidently appears, that 
 if the study of philosophy, according to the 
 principles of Newton, is calculated to im- 
 prove the understanding, so is the study of 
 the Bible, more especially when it thorough- 
 ly penetrates the soul with its living power. 
 The Christian may know nothing of philoso- 
 phy, or of its principles ; yet in working out 
 his own salvation, his enquiries and his con- 
 clusions are according to these principles. 
 He d es not make these enquiries and pursue 
 this course with the design of improving his 
 intellectual faculties ; the improvement of 
 his heart is the great object; yet in pursuing 
 this purpose, his understanding is necessarily 
 exercised in such a manner, as cannot fail 
 to improve it. Thousands may be engaged 
 in the study of philosophy, whose object is 
 not the improvement of the mind, but to 
 quahfy themselves for usefulness, to gain a 
 4:* 
 
42 
 
 subsistence, or to gratify their own taste or 
 inclination ; yet from such study, the mind 
 will necessarily derive improvement. It is 
 not the design of the industrious mechanic 
 to enlarge and strengthen those parts of the 
 body which are habitually employed; yet 
 this will be the result of such employment. 
 By this discipline the faculty of perception 
 will be quickened, the power of discrimina- 
 tion and correct decision will be strengthened. 
 The Christian may know nothing of the 
 name or the meaning of metaphysics ; but 
 he is in reality a metaphysician. He is 
 habitually employed about abstract ideas, 
 addressed, not to his senses, but to his un- 
 derstanding. Mind, and its operations, en- 
 gage his close and constant attention. Thus 
 while his object is to prepare himself for 
 heaven, to secure for himself a crown of life, 
 his understanding brightens and improves by 
 the means which he uses to gain that high 
 and holy purpose. 
 
43 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Exhibitions of Wisdom improve tlic understanding. 
 
 Exhibitions of wisdom, in harmonising real 
 and apparent discordancies, and arranging 
 and bringing into operation, a series of means 
 for the accomphshment of some great and 
 good purpose, always furnish a pleasing and 
 improving exercise to the understanding. In 
 considering such displays, we make more or 
 less effort to follow the operations of that 
 mind whose wisdom we behold, in its deli- 
 berations, its arrangements and designs. If 
 there is hope of success in the attempt, we 
 exert our understanding to comprehend these 
 operations, and thus to equal the wisdom 
 which we contemplate ; or if this appears 
 impracticable, we admire that greatness 
 which we can neither equal nor compre- 
 hend. Such efforts will never fail to improve 
 the mind which makes them. 
 
 That the material creation displays, in a 
 high degree, the wisdom of God, is univer- 
 sally admitted. Every part of matter, ani- 
 mate and inanimate, from the insect of an 
 
44 
 
 hour, to the mightiest orb that pursues its 
 majestic round in the heavens, manifests a 
 wisdom worthy of the great Creator. But 
 while this is readily admitted, we affirm, 
 without hesitation, because we solemnly be- 
 lieve it, that the cross of Christ furnishes a 
 display of wisdom as much greater than this, 
 as the heavens are higher than the earth, as 
 mind is superior to matter. In its finest and 
 purest state, matter is too gross to receive 
 and display the greatest exhibitions of wis- 
 dom : an intelligent being, a moral agent 
 alone can answer this purpose. From the 
 hands of an artist, a block of wood may re- 
 ceive the shape, but never can receive the 
 polish of the finest marble, or the purest 
 metal. In the material creation, there is 
 nothing but mere inert, unresisting matter to 
 arrange and to govern : but in the moral 
 world, there is intellect, with its own designs 
 and decisions to manage ; there is thought to 
 guide ; there is passion, affection and dispo- 
 sition to control. An artist can give form 
 and proportion, and almost breath and ani- 
 mation, to the marble and to the canvass. 
 But the marble has no design of its own to 
 change and to govern, makes no objection, 
 offers no opposition to his will : the colours 
 form no scheme to thwart and disappoint his 
 design, but dwell on the canvass in that 
 
45 
 
 proportion of light and shade, which he is 
 pleased to give them. But how widely dif- 
 ferent, and how much more difficult is the 
 task, to form a moral character after a given 
 pattern ! Let the experiment be made on a 
 child and let it commence from the very 
 cradle. Let the pattern after which it is to 
 be formed be taken from the world ; one 
 whose heart is untouched and unreformed 
 by the gospel : one of the best specimens of 
 morality without vital piety. In accom- 
 plishing this task, it is not unintelligent, 
 unresisting, matter that is to be formed and 
 proportioned ; but there is an intelhgent 
 being, an unfolding mind, with all its own 
 views, conclusions and designs to manage : 
 here is a ceaseless flow of thought to direct, 
 and direct too at every hour; here spring- 
 ing up from within, are passions, desires, 
 hopes and fears, combined in a thousand 
 diversified forms and degrees, to control. All 
 parents who have been faithful to their chil- 
 dren ; all instructors of youth, who are wor- 
 thy the useful and honourable station which 
 they fill, will anticipate much that might be 
 said on this subject ; and will unite in declar- 
 ing, as the result of their experience, that 
 the task is extremely difficult, and in most 
 cases, surpassed their utmost skill and perse- 
 verance. Still more difficult would it be to 
 
46 
 
 change a character already formed after a 
 model, the reverse of that which you wouM 
 wish it to be. Seldom, indeed, does the wis- 
 dom and benevolence of man succeed in 
 this attempt. The hard lessons of adversity, 
 the recoil of past folly and imprudence, 
 sometimes effect considerable changes for 
 the better. But in general, the character 
 thus formed remains and is confirmed to the 
 last. The thoughts and passions, the most 
 essential features of moral character, with 
 extreme reluctance forsake their accustomed 
 channel, to ffow in one entirely new. To 
 form the character of a child after the model 
 of the gospel, is as much more difficult than 
 the former case, as the morality of the gos- 
 pel is more pure and more perfect, than that 
 of the world. In this attempt, insurmount- 
 able obstacles meet and frustrate the best 
 directed efforts of human agency. Most of 
 all is it difficult to change a character, form- 
 ed and confirmed by the practice and indul- 
 gence of many years in vice and sin, and 
 bring it to bear the image of Jesus Christ. 
 Among the best efforts which man can make 
 ,r, with this view, are his humble confessions 
 
 !i of utter inability, and his earnest prayers for 
 
 1 that divine power which alone can answer 
 
 this purpose. Now, this is the very change 
 which the gospel proposes, and which the 
 
47 
 
 gospel accomplishes, in every case where it 
 is cordially received. 
 
 While, therefore, the world of matter gives 
 bright and striking displays of the divine wis- 
 dom, far brighter and more striking are the 
 displays of that wisdom, furnished in the cross 
 of Christ. The gospel is truly and emphati- 
 cally the wisdom of God. We admire the 
 wisdom of creation; we more than admire, 
 we adore, the wisdom of redemption. 
 
 Every department of nature will amply 
 repay the dihgent student of her mysteries 
 with the improvement of his understanding, 
 and with the benefits to mankind which often 
 result from his investigations. The physician 
 has a field of enquiry more than sufficient to 
 engage his attention through life, in the ana- 
 tomy and diseases of the human body, and in 
 the nature and properties of those remedies 
 which he provides for these diseases. The 
 metaphysician and the moralist are the phy- 
 sicians of the mind ; they dissect its parts, 
 arrange its faculties and its powers, point out 
 its diseases, and prescribe the remedies for 
 these diseases. The astronomer bounds from 
 the surface of this little earth to the remotest 
 planet, measures its distance and its magni- 
 tude, calculates its orbit and its velocity. 
 He chases the comet in its retrograde flight, 
 till it disappears and leaves him gazing on 
 
48 
 
 empty space. He turns his view to the 
 faintest star which can be made to twinkle 
 on his eye through the best optical instru- 
 ment. Aided by analogy, he surrounds each 
 of these luminous points with a system of re- 
 volving planets, like that to which he belongs. 
 Each of these behold, with admiration and 
 delight, the wisdom of God — the astronomer, 
 on a grander scale, but not in more diversi- 
 fied forms, nor in clearer displays, than the 
 anatomist. The Christian, without neglectinsj 
 these studies, takes his stand at the cross of 
 a Divine Saviour; there, with devout adora- 
 tion and the purest delight, he beholds the 
 brightest displays of divine wisdom that ever 
 were made to intelligent beings. 
 
 The object proposed is not only great and 
 good, but the greatest and the best — the glory 
 of God, the manifestation of his own infinite 
 excellence. This purpose is answered, in 
 part, by the work of creation ; but in a much 
 higher degree, by the work of redemption. 
 The power, wisdom, and goodness of God, 
 are exhibited in creation ; in addition to these, 
 the mercy, compassion and forbearance of 
 God are displayed in the salvation of sinners. 
 None but intelligent creatures, or moral 
 agents, can be guilty, for they alone can 
 transgress a moral law ; and none but the 
 guilty can be objects of mercy, compassion, 
 
49 
 
 and forbearance. Matter, therefore, in its 
 sublimest order and arrangement, in its most 
 complex organisation, never could be the 
 channel of communication for these divine 
 perfections. In the cross of Christ alone 
 they are displayed, and surround the charac- 
 ter of Deity with its mildest majesty and most 
 attractive glory. What will be the character 
 of the new heavens and the new earth, men- 
 tioned in scripture, we cannot tell ; but the 
 heavens and the earth which we now behold 
 are doomed to change, and to pass away. 
 But every sinner, redeemed by the blood of 
 Christ, shall remain an everlasting monument 
 of the wisdom as well as the mercy of God. 
 Wisdom is perceived not only in the object 
 which it proposes, but also in the appoint- 
 ment and arrangement of means adapted to 
 the accompHshment of this object. Here we 
 are lost in pious astonishment at the displays 
 of intinite wisdom in these arrangements. 
 There are numerous and diversified series of 
 means, involving each other, connected with 
 each other, and subordinate to each other. 
 The first series is in subordination to the 
 great and ultimate object. With regard to 
 the second series, the first is a primary object, 
 for the accomplishment of which the second 
 is wisely adapted. The second, while it ope- 
 rates in subordination to the first, is, with 
 5 
 
50 
 
 regard to the third, a primary object, for the 
 promotion of which the arrangements of the 
 third are made. The third series again is a 
 primary object with regard to the fourth, and 
 the fourth to the fifth, and so on through the 
 whole gradation. The fifth, by promoting 
 the fourth, promotes the third, and thus also 
 the second, and the first, and ultimately the 
 great pre-eminent purpose. Take away the 
 fifth, and the fourth will not answer the in- 
 tended purpose ; for want of the fourth, the 
 third will be deprived of its energy ; the 
 second, of course, will be affected for want 
 of the third ; and the first again for want of 
 the second ; and thus the great object will be 
 prevented by the failurejof any part of those 
 means on the operation of which it depends 
 for its accomplishment. The wisdom of 
 God, however, has effectually guarded against 
 the possibility of any such failure. Every 
 series, and every part of that series, operates 
 in perfect order and at the proper time. 
 Nothing is premature ; nothing is tardy ; no- 
 thing is excessive ; nothing is deficient. Thus 
 a great system is formed, embracing a vast 
 concatenation of causes and eflfects, all con- 
 verging to one point, all promoting one grand 
 object. 
 
 The death of Jesus Christ was necessary 
 as far as we can judge, as the means of dis- 
 
51 
 
 playing the divine glory in the salvation of 
 sinners. This harmonised the justice and 
 mercy of God ; and thus furnishes a very 
 striking exhibition of the wisdom of Deity. 
 Before their union was demonstrated by this 
 event, they might have been supposed irre- 
 concilable. Mercy can only be exercised in 
 the pardon of sin ; but sin deserves punish- 
 ment ; and justice requires the infliction of 
 deserved punishment. The sinner cannot 
 be pardoned, if he suffers the demerit of his 
 crimes ; for pardon is deliverance from such 
 punishment. In the cross these apparently 
 discordant attributes unite in perfect har- 
 mony ; and by their union increase the 
 glory of each other : God is just as well as 
 merciful, in the pardon of sin. 
 
 While the death of Christ is the means of 
 manifesting the divine glory, it is itself a great 
 object, to which a vast variety of arrange- 
 ments are subordinate. Had man, by his 
 wisdom, been required to fix on the proper 
 time for this event, he would probably have 
 erected the cross immediately after the fall. 
 Let the remedy, he would probably have 
 said, be provided and be known, as soon as 
 the disease is felt. Let the knowledge of the 
 atonement descend and spread with the de- 
 scending and spreading contagion of sin. 
 The wisdom of God, however, determined 
 
52 
 
 otherwise. For many ages, but few and 
 faint intimations of his merciful designs were 
 given ; and the world was left to make a 
 grand experiment on its own principles — an 
 experiment which we need not wish to see 
 repeated. The wickedness of men became 
 so great, that even the patience of God could 
 tolerate them no longer on the earth : they 
 were swept off by the deluge. That period 
 at which the crucifixion of the Saviour was 
 to take place, is called, in Scripture, the ful- 
 ness of time ; that is, when the world was 
 prepared for it. Either sooner or later, 
 there is reason to believe, would not so well 
 have answered the purpose in view. Ex- 
 pectation was to be excited. With this 
 view, Abraham w^as called ; the Jews were 
 separated ; the ceremonial law was given, 
 every rite and offering of which had a refer- 
 ence, more or less direct to Christ: these 
 were the shadows, he was the substance. 
 Thus expectation of his advent was excited 
 and confirmed. Holy prophets were to pre- 
 dict the manner of his birth, his life, and his 
 death, and the glorious consequences which 
 should follow. This expectation is not only 
 confirmed, but kindles into desire and hope. 
 The nations are to be overturned, to prepare 
 the way of the Lord. Then, and not till 
 then, the wisdom of God determined that 
 
the Saviour should die ; when it would make 
 the best impression on the world, produce 
 the most glorious effects through time and 
 ihrough eternity. 
 
 Christ having died, this fact is to be made 
 known to tlie world — another grand object 
 for the accomplishment of which a variety 
 of circumstances offer their concurrent ope- 
 ration. The fulness of time, no doubt, had 
 a reference to this event, which was to com- 
 mence immediately after the death of the 
 Saviour. During many preceding ages, a 
 succession of events had been taking place, 
 to bring the world into that state most fa- 
 vourable to the promulgation of the gospel. 
 Kingdoms had risen and fallen in succession, 
 like waves of the ocean, till at this time the 
 Roman empire embraced in its limits what 
 was then called the whole world. The Old 
 Testament had long been translated into the 
 Greek language ; the polite and learned lan- 
 guage of that day. The Jews, carrying the 
 Scripture with them, were dispersed in every 
 province, and in almost every city and village 
 of the whole empire. They built their syna- 
 gogues, or had their appointed places where 
 prayer was wont to be made. Every one 
 must see wliat facilities this state of things 
 furnished to the first heralds of the cross. 
 Every where they found a synagogue, or a 
 5^ 
 
54 
 
 place of prayer to which they resorted; they 
 found Jews, their own countrymen, to whom 
 they made the first proclamations of mercy ; 
 they found the oracles of God which they 
 read and expounded, and out of which they 
 reasoned, proving that Jesus was the Mes- 
 siah, foretold and expected by the old pro- 
 phets. This opened their way to the Gen- 
 tiles, to whom they offered salvation. If any 
 of these circumstances had been wanting, 
 great, if not insuperable difficulties would 
 have been met in preaching the gospel. 
 The wisdom, then, of this whole arrange- 
 ment is obvious and striking, and cannot 
 fail to impress all attentive observers. 
 
 The first preachers of the gospel were to 
 be selected and prepared for the duties of 
 their office. Much more depends on the 
 wisdom of this choice, than will meet the 
 view of superficial observers. The office is 
 the most important that can be filled by man. 
 If ever the gospel required faithful men, who 
 were able to teach others, it required them 
 now. For several years after the death of 
 Christ, during which the gospel was exten- 
 sively made known, there was no written 
 account of the life and doctrines of the Sa- 
 viour ; no record of undoubted authority, to 
 which, as to an infallible judge, doubtful 
 cases in doctrine and practice could be re- 
 
55 
 
 ferred for decision. No part of the New 
 Testament was then written. The want of 
 such a record would make a very great dif- 
 ference. If an error in doctrine is now ad- 
 vanced, we have our Bible at hand ; we can 
 turn to the passage which refutes that error. 
 If any thing criminal in practice appears, we 
 can point out the precept which condemns 
 that practice. How different would be the 
 case, if all such decisions depended on the 
 mere opinion and authority of men ! And 
 when the first narrative was written, for 
 want of the art of printing, its circulation 
 must have been very limited, compared with 
 what it might have been by the aid of this 
 art. The truth and genuineness of the gos- 
 pel depended on the knowledge and fidelity 
 of its first preachers. During these years 
 the apostles and first preachers were to the 
 churches and to all men, what the New 
 Testament is to us — the supreme authority 
 in doctrine and practice. The gospel was 
 to make its first impression on the world ; 
 and it was highly important that this should 
 be a just impression. This work required 
 men of sound minds, of accurate and exten- 
 sive knowledge in all things relating to their 
 oflice, and especially of deep and ardent 
 piety. Such were the men selected by the 
 wisdom of God for this important purpose. 
 
5G 
 
 Of this fact, their preaching and their writ- 
 ings, which have come to our knowledge, 
 furnish the most ample testimony. True, in 
 the current version of the Acts, two of them, 
 Peter and John, are represented as ignorant 
 and unlearned men : and the opinion of some 
 is, that this ignorance is similar to that, 
 which, among ourselves, by its blunders and 
 mistakes, so frequently disgraces the church 
 and grieves the pious and judicious. Such 
 an opinion, however, is a libel on their 
 character, and a shameful impeachment of 
 the wisdom which selected them. The pas- 
 sage, in the original, means that they were 
 nol chosen from the nobility, or the high sta- 
 tions in life ; and that they had not received 
 their education in the public seminaries of 
 polite literature. They were at first selected 
 from the whole number of disciples, and 
 w^ere carefully instructed for several years, 
 by one " who taught as never man taught." 
 Thus qualified, they did not need the wisdom 
 of this world ; nor did the gospel require it. 
 The gospel is wretchedly perverted when it 
 is made the channel of communication for 
 the learning and the wisdom of men ; its 
 glory belongs to God, and not to man. Paul 
 was a chosen vessel for this important pur- 
 pose. For a time he might run mad with 
 the spirit of persecution ; might breathe out 
 
57 
 
 slaughter and death against the disciples : 
 yet from his birth, in the design of heaven, 
 he was selected and separated unto the gos- 
 pel. While sitting at the feet of Gamaliel, 
 he was acquiring that knowledge which ren- 
 dered him an able minister of the New Tes- 
 tament. The wisdom of God endowed them, 
 indeed, with miraculous powers, to meet the 
 exigencies of that time. But miracles are 
 never introduced to accomplish those pur- 
 poses which can be answered in the ordi- 
 nary way. The wisdom of God is mani- 
 fested in selecting for the first preachers of 
 the gospel, men of sound minds, capable of 
 clear perceptions and correct decisions ; 
 men of accurate and extensive knowledge 
 in all things pertaining to their office, who 
 would not disgrace themselves and injure 
 the cause they had espoused by the shame- 
 less blunders of ignorance ; men of deep and 
 fervent piety, who would preach, and live, 
 and suffer, and die, for the glory of their 
 Divine Master. 
 
 The death of Christ, and the preaching of 
 the gospel could not be in vain. He shall 
 see of the travail of his soul ^ the word of God 
 shall not return to him void^ it shall accom- 
 plish his pleasure. Millions of immortal 
 souls shall be washed in the blood of the 
 cross ; changed and purified by that gospel, 
 
58 
 
 proclaimed by the apostles and their succes- 
 sors. The salvation of each individual of all 
 these countless millions, was a distinct and 
 important object in the eternal purpose of 
 God. In the great plan for promoting the 
 divine glory is included a series of means, 
 appointed and arranged by unerring wisdom, 
 adapted to the character and circumstances 
 of each individual. All, indeed, are saved 
 by grace ; but none are saved by miracle, or 
 without the use of means. These means 
 were not appointed and arranged by chance 
 or by accident, neither of which, in the views 
 and plans of God, have either meaning or 
 existence: but with special design, to answer 
 a particular purpose. Each series is a com- 
 plete system in itself, embracing a number 
 of parts, operating in perfect order and sub- 
 ordination to each other, all promoting the 
 great object, the salvation of the soul. One 
 part of these means, is to operate after an- 
 other has produced its effect. One will have 
 no good effect, until the mind has been first 
 prepared by another. As the seasons of 
 spring, summer, and autumn, by their united 
 and successive influence, bring to maturity 
 the fruits of the earth, so the different parts 
 in each series of means, operate in building 
 up the soul in its most holy faith. In its 
 great outline, each series resembles all the 
 
59 
 
 others : but each one, in its details, is diver- 
 sified by more than ten thousand pecuharities. 
 Here we think, is a grand display of the wis- 
 dom — //le MAxiroLD wisdom of God, 
 
 But lest we should be lost in so wide, 
 though delightful a field, or wander through 
 it with less advantasje, let us take one single 
 individual, and fix our attention on his case. 
 This man is to be a vessel of mercy, is to be 
 prepared to show forth the riches of divine 
 glory. Let his birth be where it may ; let 
 his wanderings through the world be what 
 they may; sooner or later, he must become 
 acquainted with the gospel ; for he cannot 
 be saved without faith in Jesus Christ. He 
 may fly from the command of God, like 
 Jonah ; but he will be overtaken and sub- 
 dued. He may fight and persecute like 
 Paul; but he will bless God for redeeming 
 grace and sovereign mercy. He may too, 
 like Paul, blaspheme; but he will embrace 
 and cherish the faith which once he des- 
 troyed. He is surrounded by a series of 
 means, arranged and set in operation before 
 he was born, from which he cannot escape, 
 by which, through divine agency, he is to 
 become a new creature. Such is the case 
 with every individual who shall, through the 
 blood of the cross, reach the joys of heaven. 
 
 One object to be accomplished, in the 
 
60 
 
 salvation of a sinner is, to make him acquaint- 
 ed with the gospel, another is, by that 
 gospel, to change his heart. In order that 
 we may perceive the wisdom of God in 
 adapting the means, and rendering them 
 effectual to this purpose, we must consider 
 the character on which the change is to be 
 produced. The man who is to be the sub- 
 ject of this great work, is an intelligent 
 creature ; capable of perception, of thought, 
 of reasoning and of judgment ; of course, 
 though not an independent, yet he is a free 
 agent. The operations of his mind are free, 
 and subject to no compulsion, except through 
 the medium of perception. Perception is 
 produced by impressions from external 
 objects on the bodily senses, by statements 
 made to the mind, and by its own exercise. 
 These perceptions are the materials of 
 thought ; reasoning is the comparison of these 
 thoughts with each other, and with a given 
 standard ; judgment, or decision, is the result 
 of that comparison. The mind also possesses 
 what are called moral powers. Its percep- 
 tions, thoughts, reasonings and decisions, 
 produce, in a greater or less degree, excite- 
 ments of various kinds, or what are generally 
 called affections or passions. These again 
 have an important influence on the exercise 
 of the intellectual faculties. They spread 
 
 1 
 
61 
 
 themselves, like an atmosphere, before the 
 vision of the mind. They obscure or warp 
 all its perceptions ; of course affect, in a 
 correspondent degree, all operations of the 
 mind, depending on perception. Hence the 
 most erroneous conclusions and incorrect 
 decisions are made. Yet erroneous and in- 
 correct as they are, they will excite their 
 correspondent atfections. These affections 
 are the great motives of action ; they direct 
 the conduct. The man's life is the index to 
 his affections, as his affections are to his 
 thoughts and perceptions. In order to 
 change his life, you must change his heart, 
 or his affections ; this can only be done by 
 changing his thoughts and his conclusions ; 
 this again can be effected in no other way 
 than by furnishing him with new materials 
 of thought, by fixing attention, which is a 
 strong effort of thought, on objects, in their 
 nature calculated to produce this change. 
 These materials of thought can be introduced 
 in no other way than through the medium 
 of perception ; for that which does not enter 
 the mind in this way can neither employ 
 the thoughts, nor modify the affections. 
 
 This man is also a moral agent. He is 
 
 capable of perceiving the nature and demands 
 
 of a law, intended to regulate all his conduct, 
 
 all his affections, and all his thoughts, and 
 
 6 
 
62 
 
 therefore called a moral law. God, his ma- 
 ker, has given him such a law, demanding, 
 through his whole life, perfect conformity to 
 its precepts in all his actions, affections, and 
 thoughts. To such obedience the Great 
 Law-giver has promised the reward of his 
 approbation, and threatens every transgres- 
 sion with his heavy displeasure. The trans- 
 gression of this law is sin, and the liability to 
 suffer its penalty is guilt. Now, the man be- 
 fore us is a sinner, and is guilty. He, as all 
 men are, is depraved. This depravity we 
 will not at present attempt to define. Its 
 nature and reality are illustrated and proved 
 by numerous and melancholy facts, which 
 meet the observation of all, and can be de- 
 nied by none. All men have sinned ; there 
 is none righteous, no, not one. This man 
 has transgressed this law ; he does transgress 
 it, not occasionally, but habitually ; not acci- 
 dentally, but designedly. The demands of 
 this law are reasonable, its tendency is good ; 
 but there is not this belief in him : he be- 
 lieves these demands to be unreasonable, and 
 this tendency to be inconsistent with his in- 
 terest. He calculates on more happiness 
 from transgression than from obedience. The 
 law condemns him as a sinner, and threatens 
 him with its penalty ; he, therefore, hates this 
 law with positive hatred. The character of 
 
63 
 
 God, in part, is made known through the 
 law ; he, therefore, hates that character, and 
 the Being to whom it belongs. He loves 
 sin, and neither intends nor desires to change 
 his heart or his life. Hence it becomes his 
 interest, as he conceives, to forget this law ; 
 and God is not in all his thoughts ; he is with- 
 out God in the world. For all his transgres- 
 sions and hatred, there is not the shadow of 
 excuse; nothing which he can plead in miti- 
 gation of his guilt. He is, therefore, in a 
 state of just and fearful condemnation. Nor 
 is it, by any efforts of his own, possible for 
 him to escape, though he may forget this 
 condemnation. The gospel offers him a way 
 of escape, and invites him to accept of its 
 provisions. But he rejects the offer, because 
 he hates the provisions. He would accept 
 of pardon, that is, exemption from punish- 
 ment, if it was not connected with repent- 
 ance. But this pardon is inseparably con- 
 nected with repentance and reformation of 
 heart and life. This pardon, therefore, he 
 does not desire; all he desires is, permission 
 to sin, to follow the inclination of his own 
 heart with impunity. He loves those sins 
 which repentance requires him to forsake ; 
 he has an utter aversion to the spirit which 
 the gospel requires him to cherish, and to 
 those duties, in the discharge of which he is 
 
64 
 
 to spend his future life. His deliberate and 
 fixed intention is never to forsake these sins, 
 never to cherish this spirit, never to discharge 
 these duties. He nnay, as thousands have 
 done, and as thousands are now doing, de- 
 ceive himself with the supposition, that he 
 intends, at some future period, to repent; 
 but, in the nature of things, it is impossible. 
 Such an intention cannot co-exist in the mind 
 with a deliberate intention to live, at present, 
 in sin. Light and darkness, Christ and Belial, 
 might as soon dwell in harmony together, as 
 two such intentions. To suppose it possible 
 for a man to intend to repent in future, when 
 at present he pursues and enjoys the plea- 
 sures of sin, is a dangerous delusion. 
 
 Such is the character that is to be changed. 
 This life is to be reformed ; this spirit is to 
 be renewed ; these affections are to be placed 
 on heavenly and spiritual objects ; these 
 thoughts are to flow in a new channel ; these 
 perceptions are to be corrected. In the ac- 
 complishment of this work, God manifests 
 himself mighty in strength and in ruisdom. 
 Let us consider the means by which it is ef- 
 fected, and the manner in which they are 
 employed. 
 
 The work is performed by the agency of 
 the Holy Spirit; not in a miraculous way, 
 but by the use of means, and chiefly by the 
 
65 
 
 instrumentality of truth. These means are, 
 in themselves, wisely and powerfully calcu- 
 lated to have this etfect. The gospel is the 
 power of God unto salvation to every one who 
 believeth, the word of God is quick and power- 
 ful. Indeed, the change is sometimes as- 
 cribed to the word : Of his own will begat 
 he us with the word of truth ^ being born 
 agaiii — of the word of God — the ingrafted 
 word, zvhich is able to save your souls. Though 
 it is effected by the use of means, it is as 
 really the work of the spirit, as if no means 
 were employed. It is frequently ascribed to 
 the spirit without any reference to the means. 
 Such is the ignorance of the mind, and the 
 opposition of the heart, that these means 
 would be effectually resisted, were they not 
 accompanied by divine energy. 
 
 The sinner is commanded to believe and 
 obey the gospel ; but he feels an utter aver- 
 sion to it, and disobeys the command. The 
 spirit does not, by compulsion, bring the 
 mind instantly to submission; but in a way 
 perfectly consistent with its free agency, 
 brings it, step after step, to choose and de- 
 light in this submission. He will never change 
 his life till his affections are changed. For 
 it is not to be expected that he will volunta- 
 rily forsake those practices which all his af- 
 fections prompt him to pursue. This would 
 6* 
 
66 
 
 be inconsistent with the (ree agency of an 
 intelligent nnind. These affections are gene- 
 rated by his conclusions and his thoughts, 
 and cannot be changed without first chang- 
 ing his thoughts ; for in vain do you expect a 
 change in the effect, while the cause of that 
 effect is left, with undiminished vigour, in full 
 operation. There is but one way, consist- 
 ently with free agency, to change the thoughts; 
 that is, by furnishing the mind with new ma- 
 terials of thought ; with objects for their em- 
 ployment of the same nature with the affec- 
 tions which are to be excited. Control the 
 thoughts, and you control the affections ; 
 control the affections, and you regulate the 
 life. Suppose this order to be reversed, and 
 if the same effect is produced, it must be by 
 mere compulsion, by violating the free agen- 
 cy of man. But God, who has endowed him 
 with this agency, will not destroy his own 
 gift. This is the order which the wisdom of 
 the spirit observes in reforming the man ; and 
 there is an admirable adaptation to this order 
 in the means by which the work is accom- 
 plished. This shows the great importance 
 and necessity of truth, which, introduced into 
 the mind, furnishes materials for the employ- 
 nnent of its thoughts. The spirit commences 
 the work by fixing the attention on some 
 truth relating to the nature of sin. This 
 
67 
 
 thoughtfulness is like leaven ; its effects are 
 immediately felt; it excites a correspondent 
 degree of fear ; this fear is the antagonist of 
 the love of sin, and weakens the power of 
 that love, and thus clears a little the vision 
 of the mind, and opens the way for the en- 
 trance of other truths relating to the same 
 subject. By the additional light of these 
 truths, the thoughts are still more engaged, 
 and the mind has clearer perceptions of the 
 gui!t and danger of sin ; a greater degree of 
 fear is excited; and, in the same proportion, 
 the love of sin loses its power. One truth 
 opens the way for another ; and the moie in- 
 tensely the attention dwells on the subject, 
 the more deeply interesting does it become. 
 The sinner is now perplexed and alarmed 
 with the view of his guilt and danger. This 
 prompts to further enquiries, and the result 
 of these enquiries increases his alarm. His 
 views and feelings with regard to sin are 
 changed. Instead of the fond, though delu- 
 sive dreams and hopes of impunity, the dan- 
 ger of sin now fills his mind and occupies his 
 thoughts ; instead of the love, the fear of sin 
 and its consequences now prevail ; instead 
 of a desire for the pleasures of sin, he now 
 feels anxious and distressed on account of it. 
 He is not, in the scriptural sense, a new 
 man, yet he is another from what he former- 
 
68 
 
 ly was. This is conviction for sin ; that is, 
 the perception and belief of the truth respect- 
 
 Universal experience, if we are not nnis- 
 taken, will testify that this is the way in which 
 the work of grace commences : with serious 
 thoughtfulness. It is a fact too, that the more 
 we attend to any subject, the better we un- 
 derstand it. The truth which engaged the 
 first thought, may have been presented to the 
 mind before, but did not, in the same degree, 
 arrest the attention : this then, is the work of 
 the Spirit, whose design it was, in this way, 
 to produce that deep thoughtfulness, and 
 that sense of danger, which we now perceive. 
 When the man bestowed the first thought on 
 the subject, he had no intention or desire of 
 proceeding so far : this, however, was the 
 intention of the Spirit. Had he been com- 
 manded, before this seriousness commenced, 
 to give up the world and cease thinking about 
 it, he would have disobeyed ; but now the 
 world has slipped out of his mind and is for- 
 gotten, in proportion as his thoughts are 
 otherwise employed. In vain would the 
 command have been given, in his former 
 days — think of the Saviour ; enquire after 
 the plan of salvation ; seek a remedy for sin: 
 but now the enquiry is naturally and earnest- 
 ly made, 20/10!^ mM5^/c?o to be saved 'I Hav- 
 
69 
 
 ing clearer discoveries of the deceitfulness 
 and v\ickedness of his own heart ; thoroughly 
 convinced that he deserves condemnation, 
 that he is utterly unable to deliver himself; 
 he believes and feels that if he is saved, it 
 must be by the exercise of mercy ; mercy 
 too, which he does not deserve, and which 
 he cannot demand ; for God is not bound to 
 save him. No man can be reconciled to the 
 everlasting displeasure of God, who has any 
 correct ideas of that displeasure. He now 
 sees, however, that he cannot escape, except 
 it is by an act of sovereign grace. He is 
 now completely subdued. His thoughts arie 
 turned to this mercy, which promises the 
 only safety ; for this mercy, with humble, 
 submissive earnestness he prays. The Holy 
 Spirit, who directs this progress, fixes his at- 
 tention on the promises and invitations of the 
 gospel, which are now most deeply interest- 
 ing to him, and through which the Saviour 
 and the mercy of God are offered. He is now 
 willing to be saved in any way which God 
 is pleased to appoint. While meditating on 
 these subjects, he is enabled to have a spirit- 
 ual discernment of the promises and invita- 
 tions of the gospel ; he sees the suitableness 
 of Jesus Christ as a Saviour, to his sinful and 
 helpless condition ; he feels a movement of 
 his whole soul towards this Saviour ; clearer 
 
70 
 
 views of the plan of salvation increase this 
 movement; he believes, he adores, he loves, 
 he hopes, he rejoices, he weeps, he gives him- 
 self up without reserve to God and to his Re- 
 deemer. He is now, in the scriptural sense, a 
 new man. His thoughts have been employed 
 about the truth of the Bible ; his atfections 
 are changed with his thoughts ; and his life 
 will change with his affections. The purity 
 of God and of his law, to which he felt such 
 a deep-rooted enmity, is now most lovely in 
 his view ; the service of God, to which he 
 felt so much aversion, is now his delight. 
 The Saviour, of whom he thought so seldom 
 before, and whom he so lightly esteemed, 
 now fills his mind, and is precious to his 
 heart; the Bible, formerly, in his estimation 
 without interest and much neglected, or at 
 best, nothing more than a dead letter, is now 
 life, and spirit, and power, and employs his 
 meditations day and night ; the world, for- 
 merly so enchanting in his eye, which he 
 loved so dearly and pursued so eagerly, is 
 now stript of its delusive charms, sinks to its 
 proper place in his regard, and commands 
 him no more. In heaven he lays up his trea- 
 sure, and views it as the blessed and glorious 
 state where he will spend his eternal exist- 
 ence. 
 
 Behold the wisdom manifested in this 
 
71 
 
 change ! It displays design, as clearly as 
 design can be displayed ; not of the man, 
 but of the spirit who commenced and ac- 
 complished the work ; a design which un- 
 folds itself more and more completely, at 
 each progressive stage of the process. There 
 is a decisive control exercised over his 
 thoughts and affections, and yet he is con- 
 scious of no control. Every step is volun- 
 tarily taken, with as much freedom as it 
 could have been, if no such control had been 
 employed. To the first truth which occupied 
 his thoughts, he felt no very decided opposi- 
 tion ; because he was not aware of the con- 
 sequence, did not perceive nor suspect its 
 connection with the result. Had he been 
 assured that this truth was connected with 
 another, and this again with another, forming 
 a complete system of means intended to 
 bring him to believe and obey the gospel, 
 his opposition would have been roused, and 
 would have resisted the entrance of that truth 
 into his mind. The first truth was, however, 
 admitted, without awakening any hostile sus- 
 picion, to employ his thoughts ; this opened 
 the way for the second, v/ith which it was 
 connected ; this, for the third : and this, for 
 the fourth, and so on ; until he dwells with 
 inquisitive earnestness and delight on the 
 promises which encourage the guilty and 
 
72 
 
 helpless sinner to hope for pardon. One 
 part of the means is to operate on the mind 
 in that state in which another leaves it: and 
 this again leaves it in a state of preparation 
 for another. There is a connection, an order 
 and subserviency in the means, admirably 
 adapted to the manner in vi^hich the mind is 
 to be influenced and changed. Truth flows 
 into his mind in answer to his own desires 
 and enquiries ; and by this truth the spirit 
 unfolds his designs, and carries on his work. 
 The man now, from choice, hates and for- 
 sakes the very sins which he once loved and 
 pursued ; now delights in those devotional 
 exercises of the heart, and in those religious 
 duties which he formerly hated and neglect- 
 ed. In the day of divine power, he is a 
 willing subject of grace. All this is true of 
 every Christian: for each one of them there 
 is a system of means, thus wisely arranged, 
 and thus eflfectually applied. 
 
 Now, if it be a fact, that exhibitions of 
 wisdom do improve the understanding which 
 contemplates and labours to comprehend 
 them, then every Christian has such an op- 
 portunity of improving in considering the 
 means by which his own heart was changed, 
 and the manner in which that change was 
 effected. The work may not, in every one, 
 have progressed with a regularity which, in 
 
73 
 
 all its stages, and all its minute details, will 
 accord with the above statement ; but will, 
 we conceive, be substantially the same. 
 Nor is it a subject on which he can ever 
 feel indifferent : it will always be interesting 
 to him. Often will he review the whole 
 process, from the commencement to the 
 present hour, for it is a work which will 
 continue through life. He can dwell with 
 thoughtful inspection on each step sepa- 
 rately, and in connection with every other. 
 His mind may not be enlightened by science, 
 but he will Ijave, in his own heart, the means 
 of improving his understanding, by atten- 
 tively and frequently beholding a display of 
 divine wisdom which the material universe 
 cannot surpass. 
 
74 
 
 SECTIOiN III. 
 
 Exhibitions of greatness improve the understanding. 
 
 Experience teaches us that the contem- 
 plation 0^ greatjiess sir engiheus aind improves 
 the understanding. The mind is conscious 
 of an effort to grasp the magnitude, the 
 vastness of the object, or the scene which it 
 views. A pleasing expansion is the conse- 
 quence of these efforts. This is the true 
 feeling of the sublime. The mind seems to 
 be endowed with some degree of that great- 
 ness which it beholds. Now, in this respect 
 the Christian system has very far the advan- 
 tage over the whole universe of matter. In 
 considering the material creation, there is a 
 limit beyond which the mind cannot, with 
 any profit, carry its investigations ; such ef- 
 forts are repaid with neither pleasure nor 
 improvement to the mind that makes them. 
 There is no more known, at this day, res- 
 pecting the principle of attraction, than was 
 known at the end of Newton's life. The 
 distance, the diameter, and the different pe- 
 riods of the planets, are already ascertained : 
 
75 
 
 enquiry, therefore, on these subjects has 
 ceased. And subjects on which nothing 
 more can be known, yield Httle or no im- 
 provement. For it is not so much the pos- 
 session, as the acquisition of ideas that im- 
 proves the mind. Memory alone is exer- 
 cised in retaining our ideas ; but the under- 
 standing is exercised, and of course im- 
 proved in their acquisition. Besides, the 
 grandest scenes of nature cease to be inte- 
 resting, as soon as they become familiar to 
 the mind. Those who live on the summit 
 of a mountain, derive not one pleasing emo- 
 tion from beholding that prospect which fills 
 the mind of a stranger with inexpressible 
 delight, and gives it a conscious elevation. 
 Those who view the restless ocean every 
 day, cease to admire its boundless extent ; 
 but on the man who views it for the first 
 time, it has a very diflferent eflfect. From 
 our infancy we are accustomed to see the 
 sun, shining in all his majesty, rising and set- 
 ting regularly every day ; we see the moon 
 and stars pursuing their nightly procession ; 
 but there is no novelty in the scene ; their 
 appearance one day and one night are so 
 nearly the same with every other day and 
 night, that no attention is excited. Could 
 we rise, with our present faculties of mind 
 and body, from the centre of the earth, Ian- 
 
76 
 
 guage could not express the sublime feelings 
 which the first view of the lofty concave, 
 either by ni^ht or by day, would not fail to 
 produce. The case is widely different with 
 moral greatness : here, there is no limit to 
 check further enquiries and further progress. 
 Nor is it possible to exhaust subjects of this 
 nature so completely, that nothing new will 
 remain to invite and repay progressive in- 
 vestigation. The discoveries in natural sci- 
 ence may be communicated to others, who 
 know neither the toil nor the pleasure of 
 that enquiry which led to them; but our pro- 
 gress in the knowledge of God, through the 
 cross, must be the result of our own efforts, 
 and our own experience. One may assist 
 in directing the enquiries of another, but 
 cannot relieve him from the necessity of 
 making these enquiries; they must be made 
 by each individual for himself. Language 
 cannot impart to another the views and 
 feelings which reward the diligent student of 
 moral greatness. One cannot commence his 
 progress where that of another has ended ; 
 each one commences from the same point. 
 
 The Apostle Paul prays that the Ephe- 
 sians might know the love of Christ ^ and yet, 
 in the very next w^ords declares that this love 
 passeth knowledge. Here is neither paradox 
 nor inconsistency. This love is infinite ; and 
 
77 
 
 therefore, never can be perfectly known by 
 any creature. Its height, no hmited mind 
 can reach ; its depth, none can fathom ; its 
 length and its breadth, none can compre- 
 hend. Yet the Christian who devoutly 
 meditates on this subject will be rewarded, 
 every day and every year, with such pro- 
 ficiency as will increase his strength, and his 
 desire, to persevere the next day, and the 
 next year, in the contemplation of redeem- 
 ing love. Not an effort is made, not a day 
 is spent, in vain. The progress he makes 
 does not damp his ardour, and diminish his 
 joy, by the conviction that the less remains 
 to be done. The farther he advances, the 
 wider does the range of future progress ex- 
 pand on his view. The higher he rises, the 
 more sublime does the height appear which 
 he has yet to reach. Nor is it possible for 
 any length of time to render the subject so 
 familiar to his mind, that it will cease to ar- 
 rest his attention, and invite him to further 
 pursuit. Every step he advances, every de- 
 gree he rises, presents him with increasing 
 wonders, more inviting and more delightful, 
 than all he has yet known. All behind him, 
 and all below him is forgotten, in view of 
 what is still before him and above him. No 
 attainment, no progress satisfies him, while 
 so much remains unattained. The brightest 
 7* 
 
78 
 
 visions of faith and hope can present to his 
 mind nothing more enrapturing, than to 
 spend his eternal existence in knowing more 
 and more of the love of Christ. 
 
 There is a greatness in the mercy of God, 
 which no finite understanding can ever com- 
 prehend ; which yet rewards the mind en- 
 gaged in the contemplation of it, with the 
 purest delight and the most encouraging suc- 
 cess. For as the heaven is high above the 
 earthy so great is his mercy toward them that 
 fear him. Let us, for a moment, attend to 
 this comparison. Nothing in the material 
 universe conveys more forcibly to the mind 
 the idea and the impression of greatness, 
 than the heaven. Its lofty height, its vast 
 extent, are calculated to produce impres- 
 sions truly sublime. A single glance will 
 produce the conviction that no human effort 
 can ever reach it. With all the aid which 
 art can afford, the greatest elevation to which 
 man can ascend from this earth, does not ap- 
 pear to diminish, in the smallest degree, the 
 height of heaven. Although we cannot say, 
 with strict propriety, that its height appears 
 to be infinite ; yet, certainly, it is very great. 
 This height, then, above the earth, is the 
 scale by which we should measure the great- 
 ness of redeeming mercy. 
 
 In language by no means of dubious im- 
 port, we sometimes hear threatening hints, 
 
79 
 
 that the progress of modern science will, 
 one day, shake the foundation and overthrow 
 the whole system of Christianity ; that man 
 will become too wise to believe that there is 
 any such thing as sin, in this poor miserable 
 world ; of course, that there is no need of 
 the mercy of God, or of a Saviour. We 
 rejoice, most cordially, in the progress of 
 science ; and cannot, for a moment, be made 
 to fear such effects from that progress. The 
 Bible was not intended to teach us the sci- 
 ence of nature ; its object is infinitely more 
 important. We cannot believe, however, 
 that the greatest proficient in this science 
 will find a single fact, or make a single dis- 
 covery at variance with the truth of this 
 Holy Book. If Christianity needed such 
 aid, the light of true philosophy would fur- 
 nish it, in abundance. Such, at least, is the 
 fact respecting the passage now under con- 
 sideration. Modern astronomers assure us 
 that the canopy over our heads is not real 
 substance, coloured with soft and cheerful 
 blue, along the surface of which, the sun, 
 the moon and the stars, pursue their daily 
 and nightly courses ; that if we should take 
 our flight to the remotest star which our eye 
 can perceive, and pursue our flight in the 
 same direction as far beyond that star as it is 
 from the earth ; and repeat this flight ten 
 
80 
 
 thousand times, till the whole system to 
 which we belong should vanish out of sight, 
 till numerous other systems, like our own, 
 should alternately swell on our view, and 
 then disappear ; the same appearance of the 
 sky would accompany us as we advanced, 
 and surround us when we stopped \ that no 
 real substance would ever check our flight; 
 that the impression made on our senses is 
 produced by infinite space. This, then, is 
 the measure of divine mercy : it is not only 
 very great ; it is literally boundless, it is infi- 
 nite mercy. 
 
 The greatness of this adorable perfection 
 may be perceived by considering the amount 
 of guilt which it washes away, the multitude 
 of sins which it covers. This is a subject 
 too, which very often and very deeply en- 
 gages the attention of every Christian. He 
 must be often employed in meditating on the 
 number of his transgressions, and on the 
 circumstances w^hich aggravate his guilt ; 
 these he confesses before God ; on account 
 of these he is humbled ; for these he repents, 
 and implores forgiveness. Let him be igno- 
 rant of what else he may, if a Christian, he 
 cannot be ignorant of his own sinfulness. 
 Nor can he cherish the hope of pardon 
 without perceiving the greatness of that 
 mercy on which his hopes are founded. 
 
81 
 
 Take one day in the life of a man unre- 
 newed by divine grace; calculate, if possible, 
 the number of thoughts, desires and inten- 
 tions, the words and actions of this one day; 
 all of which are sinful ; each one of which 
 deserves the displeasure of God ; and under 
 what a load of guilt will he not repose him- 
 self at night ? And yet he wakes, and pur- 
 sues the same course for another day. Mul- 
 tiply this number by three hundred and sixty- 
 five, and it will give you the number of sins, 
 and the amount of guilt for one year. What 
 a treasure is this, which he has laid up, not 
 of silver and gold, but of wrath ! And yet 
 he commences another year with the same 
 intention. This guilt is not to be ascer- 
 tained, however, by the mere simple ratio of 
 multiplication ; but by a compound ratio of 
 increase. Every day is more guilty than the 
 one which precedes it. Every day the calls 
 to repentance are louder and louder ; every 
 day his danger is more and more alarming. 
 He cannot, therefore, persevere in these cir- 
 cumstances without a degree of guilt, in- 
 creasing as the motives to repentance be- 
 come more impressive and urgent. Besides, 
 his thirst for sin is increased with the indul- 
 gence of every day ; so is the rapidity with 
 which he is carried along the broad road to 
 ruin. Like a body falling to the earth, the 
 
82 
 
 nearer he approaches the pit of perdition, he 
 is drawn towards it with an increasing ve- 
 locity. Such is one day ; and such is one 
 year! Suppose he remains in this state for 
 twenty years, every day, and hour, and mo- 
 ment of which is spent in sin. Then multi- 
 ply the product of one year by twenty, and 
 it will give (what our minds cannot possibly 
 comprehend) the number of sins with all 
 their aggravations, which are freely par- 
 doned through the mercy of God, when he 
 is united to Christ and adopted into the 
 family of heaven. Every sinner who lays 
 hold of this hope, is convinced that if God 
 was not rich in iiurcy^ his sins could not be 
 forgiven. Nor can he ever become indiffer- 
 ent to the greatness of this mercy. Every 
 thought which he casts back on his past sin- 
 fulness, every pulse of spiritual life which 
 beats in his heart, every ray of hope which 
 cheers and rejoices his soul, forcibly remind 
 him of it. There is, in this greatness, an 
 interesting and infinite loveliness, which in- 
 vites and engages his attention, and fills him 
 with a pure and peaceful joy. His earnest 
 prayer is, that, with a tongue faltering in 
 death, he may recommend this ground of 
 hope to those he leaves behind ; that when 
 at the call of his Saviour, he is removed 
 from this earth, his thoughts and his hopes 
 
83 
 
 may be firmly fixed on the greatness of di- 
 vine mercy. 
 
 it may be thought unnecessary and use- 
 less to search for additional evidence of the 
 greatness of sovereign mercy, when that al- 
 ready presented, in the salvation of one sin- 
 ner, places the subject so far above our com- 
 prehension. 
 
 The Christian, however, cannot be wea- 
 ried with the subject ; he loves to meditate 
 on it; to view it in all the grandeur and 
 sublimity of its exhibitions ; to feel over- 
 whelmed with its incomprehensibilities ; be- 
 cause he is the more deeply convinced that 
 it is calculated to afford him an eternal 
 fulness of joy. This Christian is not the 
 only vessel of mercy^ the only monument of 
 its greatness. Countless millions will be 
 redeemed through this mercy; each one of 
 whom will display the riches of its glory. 
 If the utmost power of numbers could answer 
 the purpose, and if our minds could perform 
 the operation of multiplying all these millions 
 by the greatness of mercy displayed in the 
 salvation of one sinner, the result would not 
 exceed the truth, however it might exceed 
 our comprehension. But numbers have no 
 relation to this subject ; our minds cannot 
 perform the operation. It is a subject, known 
 and comprehended, by Him alone, to whose 
 
84 
 
 character this perfection belongs. The 
 Christian can feel no regret that the founda- 
 tion of his hope is so deep and firm that he 
 cannot comprehend it; that the source of his 
 joy is as inexhaustible as the infinite mind 
 in which it exists. It would grieve him to 
 believe that there was a period, however re- 
 mote, in his future existence, when the last 
 mysteries of this greatness would be com- 
 pletely developed to his view ; when nothing 
 remained to invite farther enquiries, and pro- 
 mise new discoveries; when the whole sub- 
 ject would become familiar to his mind. 
 With painful anticipations he would look 
 forward to such a period, as the termination 
 of at least a part of his joy. It will expand 
 and elevate the mind of the highest archan- 
 gel to behold the great multitude redeemed 
 out of every tongue and kindred under 
 heaven; a multitude, requiring of this angel, 
 perhaps the flight of an age, to take a survey 
 of all their crowded millions, presenting to 
 his consideration the same general features 
 of character, connected, however, with in- 
 finite varieties and shades of difference. 
 This exhibition of divine mercy may fix 
 him more firmly in his allegiance to the great 
 Jehovah. Thus the thrones, and dominions, 
 and principalities and powers of heaven will 
 be reconciled to God, through the cross of 
 
85 
 
 Christ. Deriving more exalted conceptions 
 of the divine character from these exhibi- 
 tions, their love will glow with more intense 
 ardour, their adoration will be more profound, 
 their songs of praise will be louder and 
 sweeter. While the universe is filled with 
 the splendours of mercy, reflected from the 
 saints of the IVJost High, the divine Saviour 
 will rejoice over them as the purchase of his 
 blood, as the fruit of his agonies on the cross. 
 With ineffable complacency, God himself 
 will view them as the most precious jew'els, 
 in his crown of glory. 
 
 There is a greatness in the forbearance of 
 God, which, however it may pass unnoticed 
 by a thoughtless world, cannot fail to employ 
 the meditations of the Christian. Through 
 this forbearance he escapes, from day to day, 
 the punishment his crimes deserve. There 
 is this peculiarity in the long suffering of 
 God ; it is exercised towards every human 
 being. If there be a truth, supported by the 
 testimony of scripture and of fact, it is this; 
 that man, from his very birth, is in a state of 
 guilt. In many places the Bible, in plain 
 and positive language, declares this truth. 
 We feel in ourselves, and we witness in 
 others, nameless sufferings, for which no satis- 
 factory account can be given, but that we are 
 guilty ; and that these sufferings are the conse- 
 
. 86 
 
 quence of this guilt. It is evident, at the same 
 time, that these sufferings are not propor- 
 tioned to our guilt ; of course, that they are 
 intended to operate as means of reformation. 
 Every sin deserves a far greater punishment 
 than is ever inflicted in this life. Every 
 moment, therefore, that we are permitted to 
 remain in a state of rebellion, on this earth, 
 displays the greatness of the divine forbear- 
 ance. This will be, to the Christian, a cause 
 of grateful adoration through his eternal ex- 
 istence ; and the sinner who perishes in final 
 im.penitence, sinking and suffering in the 
 bottomless pit, will remember, with anguish, 
 that once the long-suffering of God waited 
 with him. 
 
 Although God is the self-existent, eternal 
 Jehovah, and we are creatures of yesterday, 
 sinful worms of the earth, yet he permits us 
 to aid our conceptions of his greatness by 
 comparison. Let us then suppose an earthly 
 sovereign, distinguished for the mildness and 
 equity of his laws, and for the wisdom and 
 benevolence with which he labours to guard 
 and promote the happiness of his subjects: 
 and that a part of these subjects rebel against 
 him, traduce his character, disobey his laws, 
 and endeavour, by their example and their 
 advice, to lead others into the same rebel- 
 lion, destroy the government, and fill the 
 
87 
 
 whale province with discord, anarchy and 
 ruin. He has it completely in his power to 
 crush them, at any moment; and is well ac- 
 quainted with their designs and their efforts. 
 From pure benevolence, he labours to soften 
 and subdue them by kindness ; and, therefore, 
 offers them pardon, invites them to return to 
 the protection of his government, and to the 
 enjoyment of his approbation — the rich re- 
 ward of all faithful subjects. Messenger 
 after messenger is sent to offer this pardon, 
 to urge them with earnest entreaties to ac- 
 cept of it, and warn them of their danger. 
 But they reject the offer, make light of the 
 warning, and grow bolder in rebellion. 
 Again, perhaps at the peril of their lives, the 
 messengers return to them, v^'ith more earnest 
 entreaties, and more solemn and affectionate 
 warnings. But the tenderness and urgency 
 WMth which the offers are made and the 
 warnings are given, increases their dislike 
 into hatred of his character, his government 
 and his offers. Again they are visited : and 
 their hatred is matured into deep rooted en- 
 mity, and defiance begins to print itself on 
 their brow. How long would this sovereign 
 bear with such treatment from such rebels ? 
 How soon would his patience be exhausted, 
 his clemency turned into just indignation, 
 and his power be exerted in their destruc- 
 
tion ? How striking, then, how glorious is 
 the patience of God, who bears with the 
 rebellion, the wickedness, the enmity, the 
 insulting blasphemy of man, from day to 
 day, from year to year, and from age to age! 
 When the deadly, the infernal malignity of 
 sin ; when the infinite mercy and majesty of 
 God, against whom it was committed, are 
 seen in the light of eternity, the greatness of 
 the divine forbearance will touch the heart 
 of men and angels with sentiments of the 
 most profound and joyful adoration. 
 
 Now, it is impossible for anyone to be a 
 Christian without being sensible of the ex- 
 ceeding greatness of the divine patience 
 towards him. Nothing can efface from his 
 mind, the remembrance of his former sinful- 
 ness and his guilt. The vileness and malignity 
 of his sins he will often confess and lament 
 before God ; and the divine forbearance 
 which waited with him, is so necessarily 
 connected with sin, that the remembrance 
 and impression of the one will introduce the 
 other. To remember his sins, and forget 
 the long suffering of God, will be impossible ; 
 the greatness of which will be graduated, 
 in his view, by the amount of his guilt. 
 With the most intense thoughtfulness he will 
 often review his past offences, the dangers to 
 which he was exposed, the perilous escapes 
 
89 
 
 he has made, till he finds himself instinctive- 
 ly, though imperceptibly shrinking, as if he 
 was at the moment exposed to the same 
 danger. He will be filled with wonder and 
 amazement that he was not stricken dead 
 in the midst of his sins ; that the patience of 
 God could bear with such a provoking and 
 daring offender. These emotions are the 
 necessary consequence of his utter inability, 
 after all his ctforts, to comprehend the great- 
 ness of this forbearance. The vileness of 
 sin, and the amount of his guilt, will increase, 
 in his view, with every advance he makes 
 in the divine life, wnth every degree by 
 which he draws nearer to God : and in the 
 same proportion will this greatness rise and 
 expand above and beyond his comprehension. 
 There is, indeed, a greatness, an infinite 
 greatness belonging to all the perfections of 
 Deity; to his power, his knowledge, his jus- 
 tice, &c. as well as to his wisdom, his mercy 
 and his forbearance. On this greatness, the 
 Christian will often meditate with deep in- 
 terest and delight. His thoughts, his ad- 
 miration, his love, his adoration of the great- 
 ness of these perfections, displayed in the 
 works of creation, of providence and re- 
 demption, will constitute the high and holy 
 intercourse which he is permitted to hold, 
 here on earth, with God his Maker; and in 
 
90 
 
 this way he will see and enjoy God, as his 
 portion, when finally released from the dark- 
 ness and imperfections of the present state, 
 and raised to the clearer light and vision of 
 eternity. 
 
 Let us now briefly review the subject. — 
 The proposition, for the illustration of which 
 these remarks are offered, is: That the Bible 
 has a direct and powerful tendency to im- 
 prove the understanding of those who study 
 its historical narratives, its doctrines and its 
 precepts ; but more especially, that it will 
 invigorate with increasing strength the under- 
 standing of the true Christian, who is deeply 
 interested in securing the salvation of his 
 soul ; with whom religion is not a mere name, 
 an empty profession ; not a mere collection 
 of ideas, or a system of external ceremonies, 
 neither of which have any practical effect 
 on his heart or his life ; but an important 
 reality, such a knowledge and belief of the 
 truth as calls into vigorous exertion all the 
 powers of the understanding and the heart. 
 If the proposition and the remarks with which 
 it is accompanied are true, the inference will be 
 that the mind of the Christian is more im- 
 proved than the mind of any other man. 
 We do not shrink from this inference, but 
 admit it, as fair and necessary, which the 
 preceding observations are intended to sup- 
 
91 
 
 port. These observations derive their per- 
 tinency and their force from this principle ; 
 that whatever calls into vigorous exercise 
 the intellectual faculties, will improve these 
 faculties ; and that the improvement will be 
 in proportion to the variety, the complex na- 
 ture, and the magnitude of the objects about 
 which the mind is employed. This, it is uni- 
 versally admitted, is the effect resulting from 
 literary pursuits. Take two youths, of equal 
 capacity and strength of mind ; let one of 
 them spend eight or ten years, while his 
 mind is unfolding and his intellectual charac- 
 ter is forming, in the study of languages and 
 science ; let the other spend the same time 
 engaged in some of the ordinary occupations 
 of life ; at the end of this period, which of 
 them would be best qualified for investiga- 
 tion, for correct discrimination and decision ? 
 which of them would make the greatest pro- 
 ficiency in the study of law, of medicine or 
 theology? The student undoubtedly would 
 have the advantage over the other: not so 
 much on account of the ideas, with which 
 his mind is stored ; but, chiefly on account 
 of the discipline through which his mind 
 has passed, and the habits of investigating, of 
 reasoning and of judging which he has ac- 
 quired. The conclusion, therefore, is just 
 and unavoidable, that on the same principle, 
 
92 
 
 according to the preceding rennarks, the re- 
 ligion of the Bible will innprove the nnind 
 which cordially embraces it. 
 
 Nor do we fear the result of a comparison 
 between the Christian and any other man, 
 provided the comparison be a fair one. Let 
 both, in all other respects, be equal ; let the 
 only difference be, that one is a man of scrip- 
 tural piety, of experimental religion, and the 
 other is not, and we hesitate not to affirm 
 that the comparison will result in favour of 
 the Christian, and in support of our conclu- 
 sion. We know, indeed, that comparisons 
 may be made which would furnish a very 
 different result. With a Christian of mode- 
 rate talents, doomed to labour from day to 
 day, to gain a scanty subsistence, who knows 
 but little more than his bible and his God — 
 you may compare a naan of the w^orld, or 
 even a professed infidel, possessing a native 
 vigour of mind, cultivated by study, embel- 
 lished with science ; and suppose that the re- 
 sult of this comparison will overthrow our 
 conclusion. While you make this compari- 
 son, however, candour will compel you to 
 acknowledge that it is not a fair one. Let 
 the Christian possess the same native vigour 
 of mind, enjoy the same literary advantages, 
 with the man of the world ; or let the irreli- 
 gious man possess the same moderate talents, 
 
93 
 
 be engaged in the same daily toils, be de- 
 nied, in the same degree, all opportunities of 
 mental improvement, with the Christian; then 
 the result will triumphantly support our con- 
 clusion. In the former case, the result is 
 derived from other circumstances, in which 
 the man of the world has greatly the advan- 
 tage ; in the latter, in all respects except 
 religion, they are equal ; and the result is de- 
 rived solely from the difference made by the 
 influence of the spirit and the truth of God. 
 With sorrow it must be admitted, too, that 
 thousands w^ho profess the religion of Jesus 
 Christ are nothing but mere pretenders, un- 
 influenced by its renovating spirit and its 
 power. Such are not, and cannot be, exam- 
 ples of the various and happy effects pro- 
 duced by the influence of the Bible. No 
 cause will produce its effects where it does 
 not exist, and where it does not operate. 
 The zealous advocate for literary studies 
 would complain, and justly too, if the ten- 
 dency of these studies was tried by the exam- 
 ple of those, who. though they had spent the 
 usual time in academies and colleges, were 
 known to be nothing but mere pretenders to 
 literary acquisitions. He would point you 
 to the man who loved the pursuits in which 
 he was engaged, whose mind was closely 
 and habitually applied to these studies, as the 
 
94 
 
 example winch would illustrate and support 
 his proposition. Go thou, and do liJcezcise, 
 with the principles of the Bible; look for 
 their effects, where they are in actual and 
 vigorous operation. 
 
 it is readily admitted that among the 
 Greeks and Romans, who were ignorant of 
 divine revelation, there were many whose 
 minds were improved with the knowledge of 
 arts and sciences, in a degree far above thou- 
 sands of Christians. This admission, how- 
 ever, does not in the least affect our conclu- 
 sion. JMo man will aflirm that their minds 
 could not have been improved in a greater 
 degree than they were, by the application of 
 means calculated to produce this effect. We 
 contend that the Bible furnishes these very 
 means; that the knowledge and belief of its 
 truth would have improved their minds in a 
 still greater degree, and have rendered them 
 still more illustrious than they are. if Archi- 
 medes had been a sincere, an humble, and 
 devout Christian, he might have been the 
 Newton of the world. If Socrates, Plato, 
 Aristotle, and Seneca had felt the transform- 
 ing light and power of the Hook of God, 
 they might have filled the place now occu- 
 pied by Locke, and Reid, and Beattie, and 
 Paley. 
 
PART II. 
 
 SECTION 1. 
 
 Economy and industry, taught in tbe Bible — promote 
 human happiness. 
 
 According to the design with which these 
 remarks were commenced, it remains to point 
 out the powerful and happy tendency of the 
 Bible in reforminn; the moral character of 
 man, — and thus to save him, in a great de- 
 gree, from the miseries of this life ; and to 
 furnish him the best consolation and support 
 under those from which he cannot escape. 
 To improve the heart, indeed, is the purpose 
 for which the Bible is professedly given : 
 its fitness to answer this purpose declares 
 the wisdom and goodness of its divine 
 Author. Many of the afflictions which man 
 is doomed to suffer in this life, are the neces- 
 sary and immediate result of his own folly, 
 imprudence and wickedness; of his wilful 
 
96 
 
 neglect of the lessons taught him in the 
 Bible, and his persevering disobedience to 
 its precepts. From all these miseries, those 
 who understand, believe and obey this holy 
 book, will be preserved. 
 
 It is obvious that man requires a daily sus- 
 tenance, adapted to his animal nature, and 
 that this sustenance is to be provided by his 
 own labour. Economy, in the management 
 and use of the fruit of this labour, is therefore 
 a duty which we owe to ourselves, to each 
 other, and to God. We have no rules laid 
 down in systematic order on this subject : 
 yet we have the words of our Saviour, 
 which, taken in connection with the occa- 
 sion on which they were spoken, will furnish 
 a complete, though compendious system of 
 economy — Gather up the fragments that re- 
 main^ that nothing be lost. Here was no 
 immediate want, for all were satisfied ; yet 
 this is no excuse for criminal waste. The 
 disciples might have supposed, after witness- 
 ing this astonishing miracle, that the broken 
 pieces which were left, were not worthy of 
 any care. He teaches them, however, a 
 different lesson ; these fragments are to be 
 carefully preserved for future occasions. 
 Was the spirit of this example and this pre- 
 cept in full operation, it would prevent a 
 very great amount of perplexity and suffer- 
 
97 
 
 ing. There are thousands who, with eco- 
 nomy, might enjoy all the real comforts of 
 hfe, and fill a respectable station in society; 
 and yet by wastefulness and inattention to 
 small matters, soon find their resources in- 
 sufficient for their wants. A debt is con- 
 tracted to supply the present deficiency. 
 The same want of economy prevails, and 
 prevents the acquisition of means to dis- 
 charge, at the proper time, this debt. Ano- 
 ther debt, however, is contracted to dis- 
 charge the first, and to supply another de- 
 ficiency, arising out of the same wasteful 
 habit. Though without economy, they are 
 not yet, perhaps, without credit; another 
 debt of still larger amount is contracted. 
 Credit, at length, begins to fail ; and pay- 
 ment is more and more urgently solicited, 
 but cannot be conveniently made. Per- 
 plexities beginning to thicken around them, 
 some other expedient must be tried ; but not 
 the expedient of economy and self-denial. 
 There is a prospect of speculations, which 
 may have a fortunate issue ; prizes of large 
 amount are floating in the lottery wheel ; a 
 ticket will not cost much, and it may draw 
 a prize. The speculation however fails ; 
 the ticket comes out a blank. The amount 
 of debt is increased by the means intended 
 to discharge it. Creditors become more 
 9 
 
98 
 
 urgent ; the civil officer is employed ; pro- 
 perty is sold, and the debts are not paid. 
 Perplexity ripens into trouble ; the terrible 
 oath of insolvency is taken. Ways and 
 means are suggested, and too often pursued, 
 not consistent with strict honesty, but which, 
 it is thought, necessity demands, and will, 
 perhaps^ justify. Their independence, their 
 standing in society, and in some degree their 
 regard to character, are lost; strong induce- 
 ments to correct deportment are withdrawn ; 
 the door to injustice, fraud, and vice is 
 opened, and too often entered ; and trouble 
 matures into actual misery. We would not 
 affirm that in every case, all this is the con- 
 sequence of wastefulness alone ; other causes, 
 as will presently appear, may co-operate in 
 commencing and hastening this progress to 
 ruin and distress. Observation, however, 
 will justify the conclusion, that much of it 
 might be prevented by habits of economy, 
 by gathering up the fragments, and taking 
 care that nothing be lost. 
 
 Small matters are neglected and suffered 
 to waste, merely because they are small. 
 Separately considered, their value may be 
 but little ; yet collectively, they will amount 
 to something of consequence. The frag- 
 ments which our Saviour directed to be 
 gathered up, were small broken pieces, 
 
99 
 
 separately of little value ; but when col- 
 lected, they filled hvelve baskets — a very im- 
 portant provision for future want. If our 
 resources be scanty, economy will enable us 
 to derive from them the greatest degree of 
 comfort which they can yield ; if they be 
 ample, by gathering up the fragments, we 
 will be enabled to do so much the more 
 good, and to taste so much the more of that 
 blessedness which arises from giving, from 
 preventing or relieving the sufferings of 
 others. The man, whose moderate income 
 is no more than sufficient for his own sup- 
 port, by economy, will derive more real en- 
 joyment from that income, and will maintain 
 his independence, so dear to every human 
 heart ; and this noble independence will in- 
 crease his influence, his respectability and 
 usefulness in society. The man of more 
 affluent circumstances, by exercising econo- 
 my in the provisions of his table, in the ex- 
 pense of his furniture and his drsss, without 
 diminishing his rational comfort in the least, 
 might increase the means of doing good, and 
 elevate himself in the estimation of others. 
 That man is mistaken who expects his res- 
 pectability and influence to be in proportion 
 to the sumptuous provisions of his table, and 
 the expensiveness of his dress and his furni- 
 ture. The epicure will admire his table, to 
 
100 
 
 which he will be drawn by all the power of 
 appetite, and thousands will admire the 
 elegance of his dress and his equipage. But 
 what kind of feeling is this, and of what real 
 value is it in the view of well improved 
 minds ? That of the epicure is merely an 
 animal feeling, and has no regard to either 
 intellectual or moral excellence as its ob- 
 ject ; that of others is evanescent, and if it 
 has any object among human beings, it is, 
 not the proprietor, but the artist by whom 
 the articles which excite these feelings were 
 made. 
 
 Moral excellence is the object of the most 
 valuable and the most desirable feelings of 
 the human heart: this alone renders a man 
 truly respectable and beloved by others. 
 Active and persevering beneficence gives 
 rise to that influence, and calls forth those 
 affections most desirable to a good and a 
 wise man. To such a man the blessing of 
 those who were ready to perish is a thousand 
 times more grateful than all the admiration 
 wealth ever produced. Look at the man 
 whose influence depends on his wealth ; you 
 will see him surrounded with multitudes who 
 admire the glitter which affluence throws 
 around him, and with other multitudes of 
 obsequious and cringing dependents. But 
 the man is no sooner in his grave than all 
 
101 
 
 this feeling is transferred to his successor; 
 for wealth, and not moral excellence, is its 
 object. Compare with this man the benevo- 
 lent Howard, whose path was through the 
 prison and the dungeon — whose home was 
 with the friendless and distressed — the very 
 fragments of whose fortune were preserved 
 and devoted to the relief of human misery. 
 The influence of Howard remains indicated 
 bj that warmth of approbation with which 
 the heart is drawn towards him. Posterity 
 will feel and acknowledge the lasting influ- 
 ence of that pure and active benevolence 
 with which his Hfe w^as distinguished. Take 
 the lady around whom wealth has shed its 
 most fascinating splendours; compare the 
 feelings associated with her name, with those 
 which are strongly associated with the name 
 of Isabella Graham. The name of the one 
 awakens the remembrance of the sumptuous 
 collation, the tumult of the merry dance, the 
 gaieties of the splendid drawing-room: the 
 name of the other is associated with labours 
 of love, with tears of sorrow wiped away, 
 with the widow's heart singing for joy, with 
 destitute orphans, clothed, instructed and 
 cherished with maternal tenderness. Which 
 of these would you rather be, in the estima- 
 tion and feelings of posterity ? which of them, 
 in the view of our omniscient Judge ? With- 
 er 
 
102 
 
 out economy, neither Howard nor Mrs. Gra- 
 ham could have done as much good as they 
 actually have done; and it is by the good 
 they have done they live in our hearts, and 
 will continue to live in the hearts of unborn 
 generations ; when the name of those who 
 squandered their wealth on mere animal 
 gratifications, on the gaieties of life, shall be 
 forgotten. When mere animal appetite is to 
 be gratified, the table of the rich is welcome ; 
 when literary taste seeks for pleasure, the 
 productions of genius are valued ; but when 
 sorrow and distress are to be relieved, when 
 the w^ounded spirit is to be healed, the bleed- 
 ing heart to be soothed and comforted, we 
 naturally look to the man of economical 
 habits, of benevolent dispositions, of tender 
 and compassionate feelings. How strong 
 and how endearing, then, should be our at- 
 tachment to Jesus Christ, the friend of the 
 helpless, the Saviour of sinners ; and how un- 
 bounded the influence with which he should 
 reign over our hearts and our lives ! 
 
 A vast amount of human misery may be 
 traced to idleness, all which would be pre- 
 vented by preventing the idleness from which 
 it flows. Those who observe the Bible as 
 their rule of hfe will be preserved from this 
 vicious habit, which, in that holy volume, is 
 most explicitly reprobated, and its tendency 
 
103 
 
 to misery clearly pointed out. An idle soul 
 shall suffer hunger : That ye study to he quiet, 
 and to do your own business, and to work with 
 your own hands, as we commanded you j that 
 ye may walk honestly toward them that arc 
 without, and that ye may have lack of nothing. 
 From these and other passages which might 
 be quoted, it appears that want, pinching 
 want, is the consequence of idleness ; and our 
 own observation confirms the remark. The 
 manna no longer falls from the clouds, nor 
 does the earth yield her increase without the 
 labour of man. His wants cannot be sup- 
 plied without his own industry, nor can his 
 appetite be long denied. Hence a state of 
 want opens the door to vice of the most atro- 
 cious character. The prayer of Agur is as 
 wise as it is pious — Remove far from me — 
 poverty ; lest I be poor and steal, and take the 
 name of my God in vain. That man whose 
 moral principle does not restrain him from 
 idleness, will probabl}^ not hesitate to steal, 
 or resort to some dishonest method of pro- 
 curing his daily subsistence. The next step 
 will be, in order to escape suspicion and de- 
 tection, to take the name of God in vain, 
 either in false and profane asseverations of 
 his innocence, or in actual perjury. He will 
 not, however, be believed ; he cannot live 
 without the supplies which nature requires ; 
 
104 
 
 if these are not provided by honest industry, 
 they must be obtained in some other way. 
 His idleness, therefore, will be a much 
 stronger proof of his guilt, than his profane 
 and positive declarations, or even his perjury, 
 can be of his innocence. Sooner or later, 
 he will be detected, and detection will be 
 followed by punishment and disgrace. If 
 none but the worthless idler himself was in- 
 volved, the case would not be so distressing ; 
 but his family and his relatives are heirs to 
 some degree of this misery and disgrace, and 
 especially if among these there should be a 
 pious heart, that heart will feel an anguish 
 not surpassed by the piercing of a thousand 
 daggers. 
 
 The human mind is naturally active, and 
 will be employed ; if not engaged in some 
 regular and useful occupation, it will be em- 
 ployed in disturbing the peace of society. 
 Withal, says Paul, speaking of certain cha- 
 racters, they learn to be idle, wandering about 
 from house to house ; and not only idle, but 
 tattlers also, and busy-bodies, speaking things 
 which they ought not. Paul was a philoso- 
 pher, as well as an inspired writer. Tell 
 him the nature of a cause, and he will tell 
 you the effects which will result from its 
 operation. Tell him that a woman (and it 
 is of women he is here speaking) is neither 
 
105 
 
 employed in looking zvell to the zvays of her 
 household^ nor in works of charity, nor in 
 religious duties, but is idle ; he will tell you, 
 that if she is not led from a sense of duty to 
 a life of industry, she will have no resources 
 within herself to furnish the mind with 
 pleasing employment, she will seek a refuge 
 from the barrenness and solitude of her own 
 vacant mind in the company of others ; that 
 as the company of such a person can neither 
 be very useful nor agreeable, she will not be 
 pressed to make long visits ; she will there- 
 fore go from house to house ; but as she 
 wishes to appear of some consequence, and 
 that her visits may appear to have some ob- 
 ject, she will necessarily become a tattler^ 
 she will overflow with trifling, impertinent 
 and mischievous conversation ; and in order 
 to collect abundant materials for this cease- 
 less tale-hearings she will next become a 
 busy-body, impertinently meddling with the 
 concerns of others, officiously offering her 
 advice, insidiously tempting them to an un- 
 reserved expression of their opinion ; with 
 eagerness she will catch what they say ; and 
 what they do not say, she will supply from 
 suspicion and conjecture : dressing up the 
 whole with her own exaggeration, misrepre- 
 sentation and colouring, she will fly from 
 house to house, the herald of scandal, and 
 
106 
 
 the harbinger of strife and contention. Who 
 has not witnessed the peace of famihes dis- 
 turbed, whole neighbourhoods enibroiled in 
 discord and cruel animosities which termi- 
 nate, perhaps, only with life, by the mis- 
 chievous prattling of one such tale-bearer? 
 Her idleness and her officious meddhng, her 
 empty, perhaps malicious loquacity, will soon 
 recoil, with fearful effect, upon herself. 
 When her character is known, her presence 
 will impose a restraint on that free and un- 
 reserved conversation, which is the life of 
 friendship, and which might flow with safety 
 into bosoms under the restraint of religious 
 principle. She will be the terror of society; 
 and her visits will be dreaded by all families 
 who wish to live in peace and harmony. 
 One sinner desiroyeth much good. Contrast- 
 ed with such an one, how blessed is the peace 
 maker ! 
 
 Compare with this tattler, the character 
 of the virtuous woman, given in the 30th 
 chapter of Proverbs. The one has lost the 
 confidence and affection of all ; the other is 
 highly esteemed and beloved — for her price 
 is above rubies ^ especially does the heart of 
 her husband, who knows her best, repose in 
 her with perfect safety. The one is idle, 
 working not at all \ the other looketh well to 
 the ways of her household, and eateth not the 
 
107 
 
 bread of idleness ; she provides clothing for 
 her family, and they are not afraid of the 
 snow. Nor is it an excuse for idleness that 
 her own family are abundantly supplied ; she 
 has other important objects to answer with 
 the fruit of her industry ; she maketh fine 
 linen and selleth it^ and delivereth girdles to 
 the merchant. Thus she is provided with 
 the means of doing good and relieving the 
 sufferings of others ; she stretcheth out her 
 hand to the poor ; yea, she reacheth forth her 
 hands to the needy. The tattler is wander- 
 ing about, speaking things which she ought 
 not, with an untamed, unbridled tongue, full 
 of deadly poison, setting on fire the course of 
 nature y the virtuous woman openeth her 
 mouth with wisdom^ and in her tongue is the 
 law of kindness, tlowwide is the difference, 
 perceived from this contrast ! The one is 
 idle, wandering about tattling, impertinently 
 meddling, retailing scandal, sowing the seeds 
 of discord ; and as the consequence of all 
 this, she is suspected, shunned, dreaded, ne- 
 glected, and has not a sincere friend on earth. 
 The other is industrious, a keeper at home, 
 peaceful, charitable, kind ; and as the natural 
 consequence of this, she is respected, es- 
 teemed, beloved, and finds a friend in every 
 virtuous heart. Behold the fruits of idle- 
 ness, in the one case, and avoid it ; see the 
 
108 
 
 fruits of laudable industry, in the other, and 
 pursue it. Obey the earnest command and 
 exhortation of Paul, intended to prevent 
 idleness with all its numerous and disastrous 
 effects : Kozu them that are such [idlers, busy- 
 bodies,] we command and exhort^ hy our Lord 
 Jesus Christy that with quietness they work, 
 and eat their own bread. 
 
 Idleness is particularly dangerous to youth. 
 At this interesting period the mind should be 
 disciplined by regular attention to some use- 
 ful occupation ; the character should be 
 formed, and habits acquired, which will pro- 
 mise usefulness and respectability in future. 
 At this season the thoughts are naturally va- 
 grant, the passions are warm and impetuous, 
 and readily follow the wayward thoughts 
 which excite them. The more the mind is 
 left without the influence of wholesome re- 
 straint, the more it loves this kind of freedom, 
 and the more impatient of control does it be- 
 come. When the youth applies to his daily 
 pursuit, not from inclination, nor from a sense 
 of his own interest, nor from confirmed 
 habit, but merely from a regard to the autho- 
 rity of his parents or instructors, the effects 
 of idleness for one month, or even one week, 
 will be very perceivable. The loss will be, 
 not simply in proportion to the number of 
 days or hours for which attention has been 
 
109 
 
 suspended, but also in proportion to the dis- 
 sipation of thought, which has been the result 
 of this internaission. At the end of this 
 month or week the mind will not return to 
 its regular pursuit with the same facility of 
 application, with the same force of habit, 
 which it possessed at the commencement. 
 The boatman, ascending the stream, who in- 
 termits his exertions for ten minutes, will 
 have lost, not simply the distance which he 
 could have ascended in that time, but the 
 distance also by which the current has car- 
 ried him farther from the point of his desti- 
 nation : several minutes will be required to 
 reach the point where his efforts ceased. 
 The youthful mind is carried forward chiefly 
 by authority operating on it from without, 
 and not by motives which exist within itself. 
 The moment authority ceases to operate, the 
 mind is borne away by the current of its own 
 thoughts and passions in a different, and most 
 probably, in an opposite direction ; time is, 
 therefore, required to regain the point from 
 which it has thus been carried away. 
 
 Now, if we are not greatly mistaken, this 
 shows the reason why many a youth is ruined, 
 who might have been a respectable and use- 
 ful member of society, and a comfort to his 
 friends — an injudicious exercise of this autho- 
 rity. It is absolutely a burlesque on human 
 10 
 
no 
 
 nature to suppose, as some, claiming the 
 character of philosophers, have done, that a 
 child is not to be subjected to any control, 
 but be left to its own reason for a guide ; as 
 this strengthens, it is alleged, it will more 
 and more clearly perceive and pursue the 
 correct course. Long before reason can be 
 supposed to have reached that maturity which 
 would answer this purpose, thought is awak- 
 ened, and passions are called into exercise. 
 These passions are the current by which the 
 mind is first moved. The child has yet no 
 reason to guide this current, and the philo- 
 sophy of the father will not permit his reason 
 to interpose ; the current is, therefore, suf- 
 fered to take its own course. These pas- 
 sions are all to be indulged, for denial would 
 be the exercise of authority, and every in- 
 dulgence increases their strength. When 
 reason, at length, casts its first feeble view 
 on the world, through which it is to guide 
 the child, the youth, and the man, it sees 
 that world not as it really is, but as it ap- 
 pears through the perverting medium of the 
 passions. Reason begins to unfold and to 
 act under the full and established influence 
 of the passions. If the reason of the father, 
 with all his knowledge and experience of the 
 world, did not attempt to control these pas- 
 sions, can the reason of the child be expected 
 
Ill 
 
 to turn their strong and impetuous current? 
 The singularity of this philosophy is, that the 
 child, whose passions are strong, whose rea- 
 son is weak, whose knowledge of the world 
 is extrennely limited, should be expected to 
 acomplish a task which the father, whose 
 reason is fully matured, whose knowledge of 
 the world, both from observation and expe- 
 rience, is extensive, has not attempted to do. 
 The first conclusions of reason in the child 
 will most probably be of this nature — My 
 father who loves me, and who is much bet- 
 ter qualified than I am to judge of the course 
 I should pursue, has never denied, but always 
 indulged me ; I therefore conclude that this 
 is the proper course. Reason comes into 
 exercise — the pupil, or rather the subject of 
 the passions. The reports which the under- 
 standing receives from the world without, of 
 what is right and wrong, good and evil, ho- 
 nourable and dishonourable, proper and im- 
 proper, are all made by the passions. These 
 reports are the materials with which reason 
 forms its first decisions ; and it is easy to see 
 that they will be in favour of the passions : 
 indeed, according to the constitution of the 
 human mind, they cannot be otherwise. A 
 character formed on the principles of this 
 philosophy, is one governed by the passions ; 
 reason has no other province, in fact, is per- 
 
112 
 
 mitted to do nothing else, than to devise 
 ways and means for the indulgence of these 
 sovereigns of the mind. Yet some profess 
 to admire this system as a great improvement 
 ill education — as a method calculated to 
 raise the human mind to the highest point of 
 perfection, and thus promote, by rapid strides, 
 the prosperity and happiness of society. We 
 have known a few characters formed after 
 this model ; and certainly we could not envy 
 the parents the satisfaction they derived from 
 the experiment; nor could the community 
 very loudly boast of them as a valuable ac- 
 quisition. A few weeks, during the late revo- 
 lution in France, exhibit, on a large scale, 
 the genuine tendency of this philosophy. 
 May the loud trumpet of the angel summon 
 this world to its last account, before another 
 such exhibition is witnessed ! You might as 
 well take the reins of civil government from 
 the enlightened and the wise, and place them 
 in the hands of the ignorant, headstrong rab- 
 ble, and call this a great improvement in 
 political science. You might as well require 
 a man to view every object through an instru- 
 ment composed of glasses highly discoloured, 
 and of diiferent convexities, and call this a 
 wonderful improvement in optics. You 
 might as well deprive the ship of its compass 
 and its rudder, leave it to drive before the 
 
113 
 
 wind and the tide, and call this a great im- 
 provement in navigation. Neither of these 
 cases involves a greater absurdity than it 
 does to withdraw entirely -the judicious ex- 
 ercise of parental authority, and commit the 
 government of a child to its own blind and 
 impetuous passions. 
 
 Either in conformity with this prepos- 
 terous theory, or from criminal and inex- 
 cusable negligence, parental authority often 
 interposes at a period entirely too late to 
 produce any good results. When the cha- 
 racter has received its cast ; when habits are 
 formed ; when the thoughts have taken their 
 direction ; when the passions are confirmed 
 in unresisted dominion ; the restraints of in- 
 terposing authority will be spurned away ; 
 and the attitude of defiance, which the 
 youth himself will, no doubt, call noble in- 
 dependence, will be assumed. It is now too 
 late to mould the character into any other 
 form than that which the passions will give 
 it. The gentle rill may easily be led into 
 another channel ; but when swollen into an 
 impetuous torrent, it defies such efforts, and 
 rushes forward in its accustomed course. 
 This youth is the disturber and the pest of 
 schools and academies, and the patron of 
 tumult and rebellion in colleges. Reaching 
 the years of manhood, without mental disci- 
 10* 
 
114 
 
 pline to render him useful, without virtuous 
 principle to restrain him, he lives only to 
 gratify his licentious passions. This indul- 
 gence is sought, regardless of the rights, the 
 peace, or the happiness of others. His ex- 
 ample spreads around him a contagion more 
 dangerous than that of the most deadly dis- 
 ease. Female innocence and honour are 
 never safe in his presence ; they will be-de- 
 stroyed for his indulgence without hesitation 
 and without compunction. The life of his 
 most intimate friend will be sacrificed to 
 gratify the pride of his haughty and resent- 
 ful spirit. He moves through society like a 
 volcano ; the bursting forth of his passions 
 will blast every vestige of virtue within its 
 reach, and whelm in indiscriminate ruin 
 every thing that stands in the way. 
 
 Sometimes this authority commences at a 
 period sufficiently early ; but it is too feeble 
 to produce any good etfect. The child soon 
 learns to estimate the strength of that arm by 
 which it is to be governed ; and by a few 
 trials, will ascertain the degree of importu- 
 nity and perseverance which will obtain 
 permission to take its own course. A sys- 
 tem of judicious rules is laid down, but not 
 enforced w^ith sufficient firmness : the child 
 soon learns the art of transgressing with im- 
 punity, and of obtaining the forbidden indul- 
 
115 
 
 gence. The parent may think that he is 
 discharging his duty ; but the child is its own 
 governor: there is the name and the appear- 
 ance of authority, but not the reality. The 
 only habit formed in the child, is the habit 
 of seeking and contending for its own indul- 
 gence. The authority of others is irregular 
 and capricious. One day it is exercised 
 with decision ; but the next, it is in a great 
 measure, if not entirely, relaxed. The child, 
 while under the influence of this authority, 
 is anticipating the hour of relaxation, when 
 it will enjoy the freedom of unrestrained in- 
 dulgence. All that is gained one day is lost 
 the next; no habit of regular application, or 
 of submission is formed. One day authority 
 urges the child forward in the correct course ; 
 the next, it is led by inclination and passion. 
 These fluctuating eflbrts are not calculated 
 to form a character for usefulness or respect- 
 ability. There are others who exercise their 
 authority only under the impulse of anger or 
 resentment, which they either cannot, or do 
 not take pains to conceal. Correction is 
 sometimes administered with a severity al- 
 together disproportioned to the fault ; a slight 
 offence is sometimes harshly reprimanded, 
 while at another time, one of more danger- 
 ous tendency, under a less degree of feeling, 
 is suffered to pass with impunity. The child 
 
116 
 
 soon learns to associate this authority, not 
 with its own advantage, but with the gratifi- 
 cation of the parent. It is not taught to con- 
 sider its own passions as worthy of blame 
 or correction ; but the parent's irritation- is 
 blamed and regretted as the only obstacle in 
 the way of its unbounded pleasure. Such a 
 government, dictated, not by reason, nor by 
 that wisdom which cometh down from above, 
 but by the displeasure and resentment of the 
 parent, will issue in no happy result ; for the 
 zvrath of man zuorketh not the righteousness 
 of God, To such authority the youthful 
 mind will submit with the greatest impa- 
 tience, and the hour of escape from its un- 
 welcome restraints will be anticipated with 
 eager dehght, as the hour of freedom, inde- 
 pendence and happiness. That hour will 
 come before this youth is prepared, by 
 proper discipline of mind, by habits of ap- 
 plication, industry and self-control, for a life 
 of usefulness and respectability. 
 
 Many a youth, otherwise promising, is 
 materially injured, and not a few are utterly 
 ruined, by some radical defect in the train- 
 ing of their early years. Application to any 
 regular business is, to them, irksome and in- 
 tolerable. The gratification of their passions, 
 the supreme law of their life, cannot be ob- 
 tained without invading the rights, disturbing 
 
117 
 
 the peace, and destroying the happiness of 
 others. 
 
 We cannot but notice the wisdom and 
 goodness of those precepts of the Bible 
 which relate to the education of children. 
 They are adapted to what human nature 
 has been found to be in all countries and in 
 all ages. Instead of countenancing the opin- 
 ion that the infant mind is a mere blank, 
 without tendency to either good or evil, and 
 susceptible of impressions alike from both, 
 we are taught that from the very birth, the 
 mind is depraved, or has a decisive tendency 
 to that which is wrong; that its very first 
 actings and emotions are evil. For several 
 years the child is utterly incapable of go- 
 verning itself; yet during these years, much 
 of the arduous and difficult task of education 
 may be accomplished, by forming habits of 
 cheerful submission to the dictates of pa- 
 rental wisdom and prudence. The Bible 
 recognises the parent, under whose care the 
 €hild is placed, as the person whose duty it 
 is to perform this task. The great object 
 which the parent should aim to accomplish, 
 is the judicious control of the passions. In 
 most cases, it is easier, and requires less ef- 
 fort, to prevent passion, than to manage and 
 subdue it when excited. When they are 
 excited, and this, after all the caution which 
 
118 
 
 can be used, will too often be the case, pa- 
 rental authority should interpose and prevent 
 their indulgence. Fathers^ provoke not your 
 children to anger. The wisdom and good- 
 ness of this precept is forgotten or disre- 
 garded by those who, for their own amuse- 
 ment, unnecessarily teaze and provoke chil- 
 dren to fretfulness and anger. These per- 
 sons may be amused with such needless irri- 
 tation of the child ; but they are doing it a 
 serious injury, rendering the task of the 
 parent more difficult, and are violating the 
 precept of God. Passions once excited, 
 will more easily be excited again ; and the 
 more frequently they are roused, the more 
 violent and the more unmanageable do they 
 become. Parents, provoke not your chil- 
 dren, lest they be discouraged. If the au- 
 thority of the parent is weak, capricious, 
 exercised with evident displeasure, some- 
 times enforced and sometimes suspended, 
 interposing with severity for mere trifles, 
 the result of thoughtless indiscretion, and 
 suffering more serious and designed offences 
 to escape with impunity, the child will not 
 know by what means to secure the approba- 
 tion of the parent, will of course, be dis- 
 couraged, and give up the attempt as en- 
 tirely hopeless. The whole duty of the 
 parent is included in this precept — Train up 
 
119 
 
 a child in the way in which it should go. — 
 With this view, authority should be exercised 
 with constancy, with judgment, with decision, 
 and yet with tenderness and affection. By 
 persevering in this plan, through the aid of 
 divine grace, the child will be trained and 
 confirmed in the habit of willing and cheer- 
 ful submission to authority ; and this, we 
 assuredly believe, however widely others 
 may differ in opinion, is, at once, the most 
 important j and the most difficult part of 
 education. When this habit is well estab- 
 lished, the task of the instructor, either in 
 literature or in the mechanical arts, will be 
 easy and delightful. The man thus trained, 
 accustomed to control his passions by the 
 dictates of wisdom and prudence, will be 
 prepared to render a cheerful obedience to 
 the laws of the state ; and, as far as human 
 efforts can produce such an effect, will be 
 prepared to bow to the high and holy au- 
 thority of Heaven, the most reasonable, just, 
 mild and benign authority in the universe. 
 This may be found a difficult task ; but 
 should not be given up in despair ; for it is 
 the nurture and admonition of the Lord ^ and 
 the Lord will assist the honest efforts made 
 in obedience to his will. The child thus 
 trained up, when he is old, he will not depart 
 from it. 
 
120 
 
 By idleness, we mean the want of some 
 regular and useful occupation, which, whether 
 it gives exeicise to the body or not, will cer- 
 tainly give exercise to the mind; will furnish 
 habitual employment for the thoughts. The 
 man whose thoughts are not thus employed, 
 is idle ; and idleness of this kind generally 
 fosters the passions, and gives them a very 
 pernicious and undue ascendency. There 
 are some professions, indispensable to the 
 good order and happiness of society, which 
 give too littb exercise to the body, and yet 
 call for the utmost vigour of mental exertion. 
 The man, engaged in these professions, may 
 be most actively and usefully employed, and 
 yet his body may even suffer for want of 
 exercise. Such men deserve not the re- 
 proach of idleness. He is idle whose exer- 
 tions are not calculated to increase the 
 amount of human enjoyment. He who is 
 inactive is the drone of society, feeding, 
 without shame, on the labour of others : he 
 who is active in wickedness infuses poison 
 into the veins of society. 
 
 By industry we economise our time, gath- 
 er up its fragments, and suffer nothing to be 
 lost. The talent of turning every hour to 
 some good account is a most desirable, be- 
 cause a most useful one. The amount of 
 good resulting from the industry of a man^ 
 
121 
 
 who improves these fragments of time, com- 
 pared with one who, though not unemployed 
 suffers them to be lost, will be very consider- 
 able, in the course of an ordinary life. Nor 
 can any person, we conceive, plead an ex- 
 emption from this obligation. If his own 
 necessities do not require it, the suffering of 
 others may be relieved by the fruit of this 
 extra industry. From the sentence pronoun- 
 ced on man, immediately after the fall, it 
 would appear that the comfortable subsist- 
 ence ofthe human family, requires the labour 
 and exertion, in some way or other, of every 
 member of that family. If one is idle, some 
 other one must, therefore, be taxed with 
 more than his equal share of this labour. If 
 one is found wasting the means of subsistence 
 in the criminal indulgence of his passions 
 and appetites, the want and suffering of an- 
 other will be the consequence of this indul- 
 gence. Industry, economy and charity 
 should aim at equalising these toils and these 
 sufferings. 
 
 11 
 
122 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Intemperance — Importance of truth, justice, honesty — 
 Effects of sinful passions. 
 
 Intemperance, often the consequence of 
 idleness, is another pregnant source of hu- 
 man misery ; all of which would be prevented 
 by observing the wise and salutary precepts 
 of the Bible. It is a proof of the divme 
 goodness, that provision is made to satisfy 
 the appetites of our animal nature; and a 
 proof, not less obvious, of the same goodness 
 is seen in prohibiting the indulgence of these 
 appetites, beyond what nature requires. 
 When sanctified by the word of God and 
 prayer, and when received with thanksgiving, 
 every creature of God is good^ and nothing 
 to be refused. But the moment these limits 
 are disregarded, and our gratification is car- 
 ried to excess, that moment it becomes per- 
 nicious to ourselves, and criminal in the sight 
 of God. The law of Moses, given immedi- 
 ately from God himself, who is the author of 
 our nature, and who knows what is incon- 
 sistent with our happiness, punishes with 
 
123 
 
 death, a stubborn, rebellious and intemper- 
 ate son — Deut. xxi. 20: If the parents shall 
 say to the elders of the city^ this our son is 
 stubborn and rebellious^ he is a glutton and a 
 drunkard ; all the men of the city shall stone 
 him with stones that he die. The will of 
 God is good ; and every departure froui it 
 will, sooner or later, be productive of misery, 
 in proportion to this goodness. Intemperance 
 is followed by a train of incalculable sutfer- 
 ings. It is open and deliberate rebellion 
 against God ; leads directly to poverty, wastes 
 the health of the body, and destroys the life 
 of thousands. Temperance, which is self- 
 government, or moderation in the enjoyment 
 of animal pleasures, is conducive to the 
 health and vigour both of mind and body. 
 He that loveth pleasure shall be a poor man ; 
 he that loveth wine and oil shall not be rich ; 
 for the drunkard and the glutton shall come 
 to poverty. The observation of every person 
 will convince him of the truth of these de- 
 clarations. Hence the goodness of the follow- 
 ing cautions, prohibitions and warnings : — 
 Take heed to yourselves, lest at any time your 
 hearts be overcharged with surfeiting and 
 drunkenness and the cares of this rvorld ; 
 when thou sittest to eat with a ruler, consider 
 diligently what is before thee ; and put a knife 
 to thy throat, if thou be a man given to appe^ 
 
124 
 
 tite : be not desirous of his dainties, for they 
 are deceitful meats : let us walk honestly as in 
 the day, not in rioting and drunkemiess, not 
 in chambering and wantonness : make no pro- 
 vision for the flesh to fulfil the lusts thereof: 
 use this world as not abusing it. The nu- 
 merous and disastrous consequences of in- 
 temperance have proclaimed, and do loudly 
 proclaim that goodness which exhorts us to 
 be temperate in all things. 
 
 The intemperate use of ardent spirits, 
 particularly, so frequently and so pointedly 
 condemned in scripture, is an evil without a 
 parallel in our beloved country. All the 
 highway robbers, all the thieves, all the pil- 
 ferers in the Union have not produced a 
 tenth part of the misery which marks the 
 progress of this insidious foe. All the flames 
 which have threatened desolation to our 
 cities, towns and villages, have not destroyed 
 a thirtieth, and probably not a fiftieth part, of 
 what is wasted, and worse than wasted, by 
 this demon of destruction. It generates 
 some of the most painful diseases to which 
 our system is liable ; quenches the eye of 
 genius in darkness, and degrades the most 
 brilliant talents into mere drivelling childish 
 imbecility : turns the wise man into a fool, 
 and the peaceful and good-natured into furies 
 of discord and contention. It destroys all 
 
125 
 
 seiTsc of shame and moral obligation, and 
 thus opens a wide door to every species of 
 vice. It is the precursor of disputes, of 
 quarreling and feuds, which often terminate 
 in bloodshed. Who hath war F who hath sor- 
 row ? who hath contention ? who hath bab- 
 bling ? who hnth zvoiinds without cause ? who 
 hath redness of eyes ? They that tarry long 
 at the wine j they that go to seekmixt wine. 
 
 Intemperance can boast a greater number 
 of victims, and by far a greater amount of 
 misery, than the sword of war. Could the 
 calculation be accurately made, and was it 
 to commence with the moment when the 
 first American blood was shed on the plains 
 of Lexington, embracing all whose life, dur- 
 ing the revolutionary contest, was the price 
 of our liberty ; all who fell, by land and by 
 sea, during the late war ; all the trophies of 
 the Indian tomahawk and scalping-knife ; 
 together with all the grief occasioned by 
 these deaths in the bosom of survivingfriends: 
 and could a similar calculation be made, com- 
 mencing from that moment down to the pre- 
 sent, of all the deaths and all the sorrows 
 occasioned by the intemperate use of ardent 
 spirits, there is no doubt but the number of 
 deaths would be greater, and the amount of 
 grief more complicated and more poignant 
 in the latter than in the former case. The 
 11* 
 
126 
 
 records of every year, since that time, of 
 every city, every town, every village and 
 every neighbourhood in our country would 
 add to the catalogue of deaths and swell the 
 amount of gloomy distress. During most of 
 those years, the implements of war have re- 
 mained unemployed ; but the angel of death 
 has continued the work of destruction, by 
 day and by night, without intermission. 
 
 The same etfects may be expected, in time 
 to come, from the same cause, unless it shall 
 ' please a gracious God to arrest its progress. 
 Let the miseries arising from this source, for 
 twenty years to come, be grouped before the 
 mind. You will, in that group, see the man, 
 who, by correct deportment, by industry and 
 by temperance, rises to respectability and 
 usefulness, sharing the merited esteem of nu- 
 merous friends, seduced at length by this foe 
 to the human race, tottering and falling, to 
 rise no more; leaving a worthy family the 
 victims of corroding sorrow, and the heirs of 
 indigence and want. You will there see the 
 young man, whose cultivated mind, whose 
 promising talents, whose brilliant genius, have 
 excited the joy of his parents and the hope 
 of his friends, incautiously frequenting the 
 haunts of intemperance, caught in the fatal 
 snare, fast verging to disgrace, becoming a 
 perfect nuisance in society, and rushing into 
 a premature grave ; exchanging the joy of 
 
127 
 
 his parents for anguish more intolerable than 
 death, blasting the hope of his friends with 
 all the bitterness of disappointment. How 
 many wives will you there see, at the hour 
 of midnight, to them a sleepless hour, suffer- 
 ing a torture increasing with every moment 
 their husbands are absent, and yet dreading 
 their return with apprehensions not less in- 
 tolerable than this torture itself! How many 
 children will you see, left orphans in a world 
 of unfeeling neglect, doomed to a life of un- 
 pitied want, perhaps to beggary ! The pen- 
 cil of West has immortalised his name by 
 adorning the canvass with the Saviour, giving 
 strength to the feeble, limbs to the maimed, 
 soundness to the lame, sight to the blind and 
 health to the sick. But of this group the 
 figures requiring the strongest light, and 
 claiming the most conspicuous place in the 
 foreground ; the insidious advances and de- 
 solating ravages of this monster; the convul- 
 sions of death, and the premature graves ; 
 the disappointed expectations and blasted 
 hopes ; the touching scenes of grief ; the hag- 
 gard forms of woe and despair, are too nu- 
 merous and too complicated for the canvass to 
 receive, and for the pencil of human skill to 
 paint. Intemperance will hold the pencil ; 
 our country is the canvass where all these 
 scenes will be exhibited: and Omniscience 
 
128 
 
 is the eye that will take them all in at one 
 view. Let us beseech Almighty God to give 
 success to his gospel — the only effectual 
 remedy for all these nameless miseries. 
 
 The Bible not only requires the moral 
 virtues of truth, justice and honesty, but en- 
 forces them with all the authority of heaven, 
 and thus raises them to the rank of religious 
 duties. From the frequency and earnestness 
 with which these principles are inculcated, we 
 may infer their beneficial tendency in pro- 
 moting human happiness ; observation and 
 experience prove the correctness of this in- 
 ference. We see and we feel the disap- 
 pointment, the mischief, the embarrassment, 
 the distress arising from misrepresentations 
 intended to deceive, from wilful falsehood, 
 from injustice and fraud — all which evils 
 would be prevented by a conscientious re- 
 gard to the precepts of the Bible which cen- 
 sures and condemns these vices — Ye shall 
 not lie one to another. Putting arvay lyings 
 speak every man truth with his neighbour. 
 Lie not one to another^ seeing ye have put off 
 the old man. A righteous man hateth lying. 
 Ye shall not steals neither deal falsely. If 
 thou sellest aught to thy rieighbour^ or if thou 
 buyest aught of thy neighbour'' shand^ye shall 
 not oppress one another. The gospel teaches 
 us to live righteously ^ to do justice. This is 
 
129 
 
 the will of God, that no man go beyond or 
 defraud his brother in any matter^ because that 
 the Lord is the avenger of all such. 
 
 That departure from these evangelical 
 principles which does the greatest nnischief 
 in society, is found in those who claim a res- 
 pectable standing for truth and honesty ; who 
 would kindle with resentment at the insinua- 
 tion that they were any thing but men of 
 strict veracity and justice. The notorious 
 liar will deceive but few ; for a lying tongue 
 is but for a moment. The greatest injury is 
 done to society, not, perhaps, by the thief 
 and the robber, but by the numerous train of 
 speculators, sharpers, swindlers, and those 
 who carelessly or wilfully fail in fulfilling 
 their promises, in complying with their con- 
 tracts, in paying their debts. There are two 
 classes of men whose honesty is not doubtful; 
 the one embraces all those who never pay 
 their just debts, until they are compelled by 
 the civil law; the other, all those who owe 
 no man any things who pay their debts punc- 
 tually, and agreeably to their promise. 
 There is a third class, embracing, probably, a 
 large majority, of whose honesty the best, 
 perhaps, that can be said, is that it is doubt- 
 ful. A obtains and appropriates to his own 
 use the property of B, and promises that 
 on a particular day he will make a satisfacto- 
 
130 
 
 ry compensation to B for the use of his 
 property. The promise is reduced to writing, 
 is signed, and sealed, and witnessed. The 
 specified day arrives which is to testthe faith- 
 fuhiess and honesty of A ; if the payment is 
 made agreeable to promise, he is a man of 
 sound integrity. Yet how often is it the 
 case that the day arrives and passes away, 
 and the payment is not made, the promise is 
 not fulfilled. Where is the truth of this 
 promise, and the justice of this delay ? The 
 promise was that B should receive his com- 
 pensation on a particular day ; but he does 
 not receive it ; of course the promise was 
 not true. B consented that A should have 
 his property without payment till a certain 
 day, but no longer. Every day, therefore, 
 after the one specified, which A delays the 
 payment, he holds this property not only 
 without, but contrary to the consent of B. 
 Can this be justice? If it be, what, then, is 
 injustice? Our opinions on these subjects 
 may be thought old-fashioned ; we know, in- 
 deed, they are not fashionable ; because they 
 are not very common. But in our humble 
 opinion, there is neither truth in this promise, 
 nor justice in this transaction. Nor can we 
 deem it a sufficient excuse for A to allege 
 that he was ready, on the appointed day, to 
 make the payment, if B had called on him 
 
131 
 
 for this purpose. It is, at least, implied in 
 the promise of A, that he will go to B for 
 this purpose. Still less satisfactory is the 
 plea of forgetfulness. If he was to receive 
 the payment, his memory, in all probability, 
 would not be so treacherous. If truth and 
 justice are matters of so much indifference 
 with him, that he can so easily forget them, 
 it is evident he is but little concerned to de- 
 serve the character which he claims. If A, 
 when he made the promise, depended, for 
 the means of fulfilling it, on his own industry 
 and economy, and he, at the same time, is 
 idle and wasteful, he is culpable, of course, in 
 the same proportion : such idleness and pro- 
 digality are with the forfeiture of his fidelity 
 and honesty. He indulges himself at the ex- 
 pense of another, contrary to his consent. 
 After the promise is made, and before the 
 day arrives, if any occurrence should take 
 place, which A could neither prevent nor 
 foresee, and which puts it out of his power to 
 comply with his engagement, then he is clear 
 of suspicion; provided, as soon as possible, 
 he makes B fully acquainted with the fact : 
 the failure is owing to the providence of God, 
 not to his want of principle. If, however, 
 no such event has occurred ; if all the re- 
 sources on which he depended have answered 
 what might have reasonably been expected 
 
132 
 
 from them; or if he made the promise without 
 any reasonable prospect, known at the time, 
 of being able to comply with it ; then, in ad- 
 dition to falsehood and injustice, no ingenuity 
 nor even sophistry, can save him from the 
 charge of wilful deception. Had these im- 
 probabilities and uncertainties been known, 
 B would not, at least on the same terms, have 
 given him possession of his property, nor 
 placed the same confidence in his promise. 
 This concealment, therefore, was fraudulent 
 and criminal. It is not walking honestly to 
 them who are without^ nor who are within the 
 church. It is not providing things honest in 
 the sight of all men, still less in the sight of 
 the Lord, our Judge. 
 
 B makes a similar promise to C, and trusts 
 in the fidelity and honesty of A for the means 
 of complying with his engagement. C, pla- 
 cing confidence in B, makes a promise to D, 
 and D again to E, and E to F, and so on. If 
 A deceives B, the failure with all its conse- 
 quences will roll on to C, and from C to D, 
 and to E, and to F. F is urged for payment 
 which he cannot make without a sacrifice. 
 He is perplexed, and embarrassed, and his 
 property is sold for one third of its value. F 
 commences a similar process with E, and E 
 with D, kc. all of whom are involved in 
 trouble and loss. Each of them have fami- 
 
133 
 
 lies who are involved in the same troubles; 
 and whose reasonable expectations of future 
 support and provision are blasted. Had A 
 been a man of truth, and honesty, all this 
 trouble and distress would have been pre- 
 vented. Had the precepts of the gospel 
 governed his heart and his life, he would 
 have spoken the truth and acted honestly. 
 
 This case is the representative often thou- 
 sand others which bear to it a greater or less 
 degree of similarity, and produce greater or 
 less degrees of those evils which always attend 
 the violation of truth and justice. We know, 
 indeed, that a thousand excuses will be of- 
 fered to shield the character from the charge 
 of falsehood and fraud. This proves that 
 there is an indifference, truly alarming, to- 
 wards the authority of (lod, and to all that 
 portion of human happiness which depends 
 on the influence of truth and justice. I'he 
 very excuse that is offered, does homage to 
 the high importance and beneficial tendency 
 of these sacred principles. He who offers it, 
 wishes to enjoy the advantages and the plea- 
 sures which he supposes may be obtained by 
 falsehood and dishonesty, while he shrinks 
 from the reproach they deserve. The person 
 who is the guilty cause of miseries extending 
 beyond his knowledge, perhaps to genera- 
 tions yet unborn, lulls himself into indiffer- 
 12 
 
134 
 
 ence, and quiets his mind with the most 
 frivolous excuse. As a madman who casteth 
 firebrands^ arrows^ and death j so is he that 
 deceiveth his neighbour, and saith, am not I 
 m sport F As if society ought to suffer with- 
 out complaint, for the pleasure of a base and 
 fraudulent deceiver. 
 
 One day, or one week later than the time 
 specified, in performing a promise, is consi- 
 dered a matter of too little consequence to 
 deserve any blame. This, however, is as 
 certainly a departure from truth as would be 
 the delay often weeks, or often years. One 
 drop contains all the properties of water as 
 certainly as does the whole ocean ; for the 
 whole ocean is made up of single drops. One 
 inch from a given line is as certainly a de- 
 parture from that line as ten inches, or even 
 twenty miles are. Add inch to inch, and at 
 length you will make up the twenty miles, 
 which consist of a definite number of inches. 
 The greatest instance of falsehood, and which 
 affects most deeply the interests of society, 
 differs not in nature, but only in degree, from 
 falsehood relating to small matters. If one 
 day involves no blame, neither does two, nor 
 four, nor eight, nor any definite number you 
 please to mention. Add together as many 
 cyphers as you please, and the amount will 
 still be nothing. If one day involves no 
 
135 
 
 blame, neither does a year, nor even ten 
 years, which are made up of a certain num- 
 ber of days. The injustice is more flagrant, 
 the falsehood is more palpable and pernicious 
 in proportion to the time for which the ful- 
 filment of the promise is delayed; of course, 
 each day, the first, as well as every other, 
 has its due proportion of blame. Sound in- 
 tegrity of character is a unit; it cannot bear 
 the slightest diminution, without injury. 
 
 The violation of matrimonial vows is at- 
 tended with a train of evils which it is not 
 easy to express, though thousands are doomed 
 to writhe under them. The bare suspicion 
 of infidelity fills the bosom with disquietude, 
 and preys, like a vulture, on the heart; the 
 proof of guilt destroys the happiness and 
 embitters the future life of the injured party. 
 The magnitude of the mischief arising from 
 this species of unfaithfulness, is literally in- 
 calculable. The loss of affection, once so- 
 lemnly pledged, the cold neglect, the bitter 
 disappointment, the cruel insult, which is 
 involved in every case of conjugal falsehood, 
 make up the complicated injury, bequeathed 
 to the miserable sufferer. The breach of 
 this promise has in it all that is calculated to 
 give aggravation to guilt in the sight of God, 
 and all that is calculated to give poignancy 
 to grief in the human heart. The promise 
 
136 
 
 of fidelity is generally, and ought universally 
 to be nnade as the result of affections, excited 
 and cherished by the view of qualities, at 
 once amiable and desirable in their object; 
 it is generally accompanied with those reli- 
 gious ceremonies which bring the parties to 
 recognize their invisible Judge as the witness 
 of their mutual sincerity. The deliberate 
 and wanton violation of such a promise is 
 marked with a dereliction of principle, and 
 with a turpitude of character which cannot 
 easily be surpassed ; and is productive of 
 that complicated anguish which can find no 
 refuge, and admits of no relief in this world. 
 Even the kind hand of religion cannot pluck 
 this thorn from the heart, and heal the wound 
 which it inflicts. The grave is the only 
 refuge to which the victims of this base infi- 
 delity can look for complete deliverance. 
 Multitudes who are the authors of this ex- 
 quisite suffering, who deserve the deepest 
 brand of infamy, yet dare to show their 
 shameless faces in decent society, and look 
 for that respect which is due only to the vir- 
 tuous and the good : and it is a melancholy 
 proof of the v^ant of correct principle, and of 
 the low^ state of moral and religious feeling, 
 that they do not meet, wherever they appear, 
 those indignant frowns which would be too 
 intolerable for them to bear. 
 
137 
 
 No man can read the Bible without per- 
 ceiving with what just severity this species 
 of falsehood and injustice is censured and 
 condemned. Criminals of this description 
 generally disregard the discipline of the 
 church ; and for various reasons too often 
 escape the penalties of the civil law : thus 
 they pass with triumphant impunity. They 
 can, however, escape but for a short time ; 
 such transgressors God will judge : He 
 alone can inflict a punishment proportioned 
 to their guilt, and to the sufferings they occa- 
 sion to others. If the frowns of society do 
 not repulse them, the frowns of Jehovah will 
 pursue them with everlasting disgrace. 
 
 Universal experience and observation will 
 justify us in affirming that much, very much 
 of the miseries of this life may be traced back 
 to the sinful and wicked passions of men as 
 their cause. By observing that darkness 
 uniformly retires before the rising sun, and 
 returns again when he is withdrawn, we 
 conclude that the sun is the cause of light, 
 and of day, and that darkness is the conse- 
 quence of his absence. In like manner, by 
 observing that suffering, in a greater or less 
 degree, is the concomitant of these guilty 
 passions, we infer that the one is the cause 
 of the other. 
 
 The bosom in which these passions exist 
 12* 
 
138 
 
 is not, and cannot be happy. The proud 
 man is not happy. He spurns with contempt 
 the adulation of the vulgar, as unworthy of 
 his notice; his pride is nourished by the ap- 
 probation of those alone, whose weight of 
 character has raised them to the more ele- 
 vated grades in society. Hence those who 
 can minister to his gratification are compar- 
 atively but few; and of this few, many of 
 them will be his competitors for public 
 applause. Two men governed by the spirit 
 of pride, are said to be the most disagreeable 
 companions to each other. They advance 
 their mutual claims to meet with mutual de- 
 nial and disappointment. Each one expects 
 to receive what the other is not disposed to 
 give. Pride is ever ready to receive, but 
 never to bestow approbation; except per- 
 haps, with the view of receiving the same in 
 return, with more than legal interest. This, 
 however, is more the artifice of that paltry 
 kind of pride, called vanity, than of that lofty, 
 though diabolical feeling of which we are 
 speaking. Vanity, which feeds on the flat- 
 tery of all without discrimination, and soon 
 recovers from the pain of diappointment, is 
 the feature of a weak mind : pride is the vice 
 of a great mind, and can relish nothing but 
 that applause which is unconstrained and 
 sincere. The slightest suspicion that the 
 
139 
 
 incense offered en its shrine is nothing but 
 mere formality, not seasoned with sincerity, 
 produces the bitterest disappointment and 
 chagrin. If he sees others receiving those 
 respectful acknowledgments which he covets, 
 this excites in his bosom jealousy, envy, ha- 
 tred, malice, and resentment ; passions which, 
 like a host of furies, prey upon his peace. 
 Proud men are not disposed to gratify him, 
 because they consider him their rival and 
 opponent ; men of real worth are not dis- 
 posed to gratify him, because they consider 
 it wrong to furnish indulgence for any vicious 
 passion. Hence, his arrogant claims meeting 
 with repulses from every quarter, his haughty 
 spirit becomes, in his own breast, a source 
 of vexation and disquietude. God and man 
 agree in this one thing; that is in resisting 
 the proud. If there is on earth a human be- 
 ing whom you could wish to see devoid of 
 peace, and unhappy, infuse into him the 
 spirit of pride, and your object will be ac- 
 complished. 
 
 The ambitious man is not happy : his 
 insatiable spirit, like the daughters of the 
 horse-leech, is continually cry'mg^ give, give ^ 
 and like the grave, never saith, it is enough. 
 He enters the public arena with numerous 
 competitors, who labour to elevate them- 
 selves by thrusting him down. They scruti- 
 
140 
 
 nise his character, suspect his motives, call 
 in question his talent, thwart all his purposes, 
 and view him as a public and licensed mark 
 for the shafts of slander and reproach. 
 Viewing them with the troubled eye of jea- 
 lousy and envy, he contends with the same 
 weapons, and employs the same methods for 
 his own advancement, and derives the same 
 enjoyment from their discomfiture. Through 
 these tumultuous conflicts, along this perilous 
 path, he urges his way towards the object of 
 desire. Every ascent which he gains in- 
 creases his desire, and redoubles his elforts 
 to rise still higher. At length his eye fixes 
 on the very summit of fame, and on the very 
 highest post of honour, as the only limit of 
 his boundless ambition. Nothing below this 
 summit will quiet his restless spirit; and if 
 this should, at length, be attained, a thousand 
 bitter recollections of the past ascend with 
 him as the inmates of his bosom ; a thousand 
 suspicions and jealousies respecting the mo- 
 tives and designs of others invade him; the 
 envy of disappointed rivals, in a thousand 
 forms and degrees haunt him, like spectres 
 from the dead, and disturb his peace. The 
 happiness which he fondly anticipated has 
 fled from the station which he fills, and has 
 left him heir to a nameless train of corroding 
 anxieties. That ambition which increased 
 
141 
 
 as he advanced, is now greater than at any 
 former stage ; and yet having no higher ob- 
 ject on which it can fix, it therefore becomes 
 the tormentor of the bosom in which it exists. 
 Such a mind can no more be at peace than 
 can the ocean under the influence of the 
 rushing tempest. 
 
 If ambition dwells in the bosom of a chief, 
 or a sovereign, his neighbours of the same 
 grade become the objects of his suspicion 
 and his jealousy. If they are his superiors, 
 then, his wealth, his power, his royalty, avail 
 him nothing, till he can equal tliem ; this 
 accompHshed, his spirit cannot rest till he 
 is their acknowledged superior. When the 
 world is obsequious at his feet, he weeps that 
 there are not more worlds in the same pros- 
 trate condition. 
 
 There is another passion which torments 
 the bosom in which it is cherished ; that is, 
 avarice. This is not only sinful in the sight 
 of God, but it is ridiculous in the sight of 
 men. The man who is under the domina- 
 tion of this vice is necessarily unhappy. He 
 feels a desire for the increase of his wealth 
 which cannot be satisfied ; and all ungrati- 
 fied desire, of this kind particularly, is sufier- 
 ing. He that loveth silver^ shall not he 
 satisfied with silver ; neither he that loveth 
 abundance, with increase. He loves wealth 
 
142 
 
 for its own sake, not as the means of inno- 
 cent enjoyment, and still less of doing good. 
 He prohibits himself from the enjoyment of 
 it with a vigilance scarcely less constant and 
 severe, than that with which he guards it 
 from others. Supposing that the idol of his 
 heart is as precious to others as it is to him- 
 self, he is the victim of perpetual fear and 
 dread, lest it should be wrested from him by 
 the hand of violence. Though he dare not 
 enjoy it, yet its safety is, to him, a source of 
 the most anxious solicitude. The abundance 
 of the rich will not suffer them to sleep. Nor 
 does he consider, for whom do I labour^ and 
 bereave my soul of good? His mean and 
 sordid soul would be worthy of contempt, if 
 his wretchedness and guilt did not advance 
 much stronger claims to commiseration. 
 
 The man who is under the influence of 
 envy cannot be happy. The good, the ad- 
 vantage, the enjoyment of others, especially 
 of rivals and superiors, is the object of this 
 feeling. The man voluntarily becomes his 
 own tormentor because others are happy. 
 Their deprivation, their misery, is the only 
 relief his sufferings will admit of. It is said 
 that Omnipotence can accomplish whatever 
 is possible : is it possible, then, for God, who 
 is infinite in goodness, and who delights in 
 happiness, to create a rational creature who 
 
143 
 
 can be happy while envy is a feature of his 
 character? If he could, the fact is beyond 
 our comprehension. He, therefore, who 
 cherishes this passion must feel the suffering 
 which it inflicts; there is no escaping from 
 it. Envy sluyeth the silly one : envy is the 
 rottenness of the hones. 
 
 The sufferings which result from anger, 
 are obvious to all men. The world could 
 not persuade you that the man under its in- 
 fluence is otherwise than unhappy. The 
 flashing of his eye, his incoherent and hur- 
 ried speech, his agitated frame, will force 
 on your mind the conviction that, both in 
 mind and body, he is suffering. Death is 
 said to have been the consequence, in some 
 instances, of violent paroxysms of this pas- 
 sion ; and in many others, it is said to shorten 
 life by generating painful and dangerous dis- 
 eases. " Anger is particularly injurious to 
 infants, who, from the sensibility of their 
 frames, are extremely susceptible of this 
 passion, and are sometimes so severely afflict- 
 ed astodiesuddenly in convulsions, orto retain 
 ever after an imbecility of mind and body 
 arising from its powerful impression. We 
 ought as rational agents to beware of encou- 
 raging such destructive emotions ; for it is 
 certain that men and women possessing an 
 irascible temper generally die of pulmonary 
 
144 
 
 consumptions ; and young persons, especially 
 females, should be informed, that independ- 
 ently of its moral turpitude, it deforms the 
 face, steals the rose from the cheek of beauty, 
 and not only tends to extinguish the most 
 tender affections, but sometimes even pro- 
 duces aversion." It is only, therefore, in 
 the bosom of fools that a7iger resteth ; of those 
 who are regardless of their own peace of 
 mind, of their own health and the preserva- 
 tion of their own lives. If the various mo- 
 difications of this passion, malice, resentment, 
 revenge, &lc. be less violent, they are for that 
 very reason more permanent. These are 
 the forms into which anger frequently sub- 
 sides ; and they keep the mind in a state of 
 habitual irritation and uneasiness until they 
 are satiated by the infliction of punishment 
 on their object. The effect of these pas- 
 sions on the peace and tranquillity of the 
 mind is greater, because it is uniform. The 
 malevolent spirit is continually watching 
 and secretly praying for the calamity of its 
 object ; and if this calamity is escaped, pain- 
 ful disappointment is the consequence. Re- 
 venge is not satisfied with merely watching 
 for calamity ; it devises ways and means for 
 producing misfortune. Like a beast of prey, 
 its enjoyment and its life consist in the pain 
 and death of others ; and for the sake of this 
 
145 
 
 enjoyment, it will inflict this pain and this 
 death. 
 
 There is a host of minor feehngs which 
 keep the mind in a state of perpetual dis- 
 quietude, like the troubled sea which cannot 
 rest. The mind is sometimes torn and vexed 
 with what may be called the dregs of other 
 sinful and tormenting passions. Discontent- 
 edness renders the person dissatisfied with 
 every thing in his present condition ; peevish- 
 ness renders him fretful and disobliged with 
 the kindest efforts to please ; caprice is teased 
 and provoked by the very things which, a 
 few minutes before, had been wished for ; 
 ill nature ferments and turns the spirits to 
 acid and to gall. These feelings, like ulcers, 
 destroy the peace of the mind, and keep it 
 in a state of habitual and painful irritation ; 
 and, to the eye of nice and correct moral 
 perception, they deform the character, and 
 strip it of all its loveliness, as certainly as 
 ulcers do the features of the countenance. 
 
 Of these passions, it may be observed, that 
 there is an affinity between them ; they very 
 naturally and almost necessarily generate 
 each other. Pride and ambition almost al- 
 ways produce envy and jealousy. The cause 
 of disappointed expectations will be constru- 
 ed into insults and injuries ; and thus anger, 
 malice, resentment and revenge will be ex- 
 13 
 
146 
 
 cited. Under the frequent excitement and 
 corrosion of these passions, the mind is dis- 
 posed to discontent, peevishness and caprice; 
 and thus ill-nature and harshness of temper 
 become permanent features of character. 
 
 The man who cherishes these passions is 
 sure to suffer the consequence of his own 
 folly. There is in his own bosom an opera- 
 tive cause of vexation and torment, from 
 which he cannot escape. He may change 
 his circumstances in life ; he may change his 
 pursuit ; he may change his friends ; but, until 
 his heart is changed, by the grace of God, 
 he must and will be an unhappy man. 
 
 While these passions are tormenting the 
 heart in which they exist, they are the cause 
 of a nameless train of miseries to mankind. 
 War is one of the most dreadful scourges 
 with which the indignation of insulted Hea- 
 ven has ever visited our guilty globe. Pro- 
 bably ninetenths of the wars which have 
 been waged have been owing to the pride, 
 ambition, revenge or lawless cupidity of 
 those called chiefs, rulers or sovereigns of 
 the people whom they were permitted to 
 afflict. Calculate the consequences of one 
 single conflict. Take your station in that 
 field, soon to be stained with the blood of 
 thousands. See the two armies advancing to 
 meet each other ; think of the art and in- 
 
147 
 
 genuity with which their implements have 
 been fitted for the work of slaughter and 
 death ; think of the talents and miHtarj 
 prowess with which all the arrangements 
 have been made. View the mingled emo- 
 tions of apprehensive dread and determined 
 courage with which they advance : see the 
 countenance at one moment brightening 
 with the hope of victory ; the next overcast 
 with a momentary pensiveness, from a glance 
 of thought on the friends left at home. The 
 signal is given, and the work of destruction 
 begins. Blood, and groans, and death strike 
 your ear and meet your view on every side. 
 The conflict over, suppose yourself the mes- 
 senger of these tidings of sorrow to the friends 
 of those whose agonies and death you have 
 witnessed. Go to the cottage and tell the 
 mother of a helpless family that she is a 
 widow, and her children are fatherless ; that 
 you saw the. husband whom she loved in the 
 agonies of death, and heard him, with his 
 last breath, commend her and her orphan 
 children to the kind protection of Heaven. 
 Gauge the misery of this cottage, and then 
 multiply it by all the thousands who are 
 made widows and left fatherless on the same 
 day. Go to the parents, whose son, the joy 
 of their heart, and the hopes of their declin- 
 ing years, is lifeless on the field ; tell them 
 
148 
 
 that you saw him fall by the hands of a man 
 whom he never had injured, and towards 
 whom he cherished not one unfriendly feel- 
 ing ; that he died trodden under foot by tri- 
 umphant enemies, without one kind office 
 or one cheering word of friendship to soothe 
 his last moments. Witness the depth of sor- 
 row into which these parents are plunged, 
 and multiply this by all the parents who re- 
 ceive the same tidings from this field of blood. 
 Ask yourself, what is the cause of all these 
 groans, of these agonies of death, of this in- 
 calculable amount of grief in the heart of 
 surviving friends? It is to gratify the bound- 
 less ambition, or some other guilty passion, 
 of one single man: this passion is the main- 
 spring which moves this machinery of an- 
 guish. Had this man possessed the mild, 
 the humble, the peaceful spirit of the gospel, 
 all this misery would have been prevented. 
 
 Would you see a particular case in which 
 these remarks are exemplified ? From the 
 smouldering ruins of Moscow follow the re- 
 treat, or rather flight, of the French army ; 
 witness all the complicated sufferings which 
 distinguish that flight, and you will see them 
 exemplified. To the restless spirit, to the 
 insatiable ambition of one man, is all that 
 suffering to be ascribed. Had this man been 
 contented with the empire of France, of 
 
149 
 
 which he was the acknowledged sovereign, 
 he might have left it as an inheritance to his 
 posterity. But Alexander reigned in the 
 north without doing vassalage to him. This 
 preyed upon his peace, and rendered his life 
 unhappy. Ambition called out this nume- 
 rous army, guided its march to Moscow, and 
 thus gave rise to all the miseries which fol- 
 lowed, and which, perhaps, have never been 
 exceeded, except when the judgment of God 
 fell on that devoted city, Jerusalem. 
 
 13* 
 
150 
 
 SECTlOiN III. 
 
 Discontentedness, peevishness — pious affections secure 
 peace of mind. 
 
 The effects of anger, in disturbing the 
 peace of society are well known. During 
 the violence of this passion, the operations 
 of reason are suspended, or her voice is not 
 heard, and her dictates are disregarded. 
 The proverb is not without truth, ira brevis 
 furor ^ under the paroxysm of rage, nnan 
 beconnes a madman, is deprived of his un- 
 derstanding, and is impelled by blind and 
 furious passions. Those things are often 
 done which no future regret can ever repair. 
 Death is frequently the consequence of this 
 dangerous excitement ; and death always 
 carries anguish to the heart of surviving 
 friends. The guilty homicide, if murderer 
 is thought too harsh a term, may, in mo- 
 ments of cool reflection, weep bitterly over 
 the result of his own passion ; but this sor- 
 row, however deep and sincere, will not 
 restore the dead to life, nor heal the bleed- 
 ing heart of sorrowing relations, though it 
 
151 
 
 may, in some measure, disarm them of their 
 resentment. During the fit of anger, the 
 restraint of the tongue is lost ; and words, in 
 a torrent, the most bitter and the most pro- 
 voking, are uttered. These often produce 
 deadly strife and contention, or fix in the 
 heart, deep-rooted animosities and hatred ; 
 feelings which the apology, suggested and 
 offered in calmer moments, cannot efface ; 
 but which sometimes descend as an inherit- 
 ance from father to son. If malice and re- 
 venge are less violent, they are not less dan- 
 gerous to the peace of society. If they do 
 not suspend the operations of reason, they 
 employ that reason in devising means for the 
 execution of their diabolical purposes. The 
 paroxysms of anger are soon over; but these 
 remain principles of action for days and for 
 years. Anger gives iadications of the threat- 
 ening storm, and thus furnishes at least a 
 moment, for escape or defence ; but these 
 coolly deliberate on the means of punishment 
 or death, and mature their plan, a part of 
 which is, to conceal their design till it is ripe 
 for execution, and thus leave no time for 
 escape or defence. MaHce and revenge are 
 prominent features, active and permanent 
 principles in the character of Satan ; this 
 renders him the more dangerous to us. The 
 man who lives under the influence of these 
 
152 
 
 passions, not only proves, by a strong re- 
 semblance, his relationship to this fallen 
 spirit, but, according to his power, is equally 
 dangerous to the peace and happiness of 
 mankind. 
 
 A vast amount of human happiness is de- 
 stroyed by discontentedness, by peevishness, 
 by sourness and harshness of temper. The 
 explosions of anger, and the deep and secret 
 designs of malice and revenge, are dreadful ; 
 but these make up what they want in vio- 
 lence by the frequency with which they 
 recur. There are some who are habitual 
 murmurers^ complainers, who can be pleased 
 with nothing, who are dissatisfied with every 
 thing. A failure to gratify their whims and 
 their desires, which they have not expressed, 
 and which there was no possibility of know- 
 ing, is construed into designed neglect, insult 
 or cruelty. Your mildness, your gentleness 
 and kindness, only irritate their discontented 
 spirits ; perhaps, by forcing on their observa- 
 tion, from the contrast, the unwelcome pic- 
 ture of their own hearts. A mere trifle will 
 furnish employment for their querulous 
 tongues, determined never to be idle, till 
 something else occurs to take its place. 
 Never satisfied themselves, they disturb the 
 peace of all around them. One kind look, 
 one mild and gentle expression from them 
 
153 
 
 would be a phenomenon — something out of 
 the ordinary course of things. Those who 
 are confined within the range of their ill-na- 
 tured and peevish loquacity, have great need 
 of meekness, forbearance, and patience ; for 
 the grievances which they are doomed to 
 suffer are of no small magnitude ; grievances 
 for which wealth and splendour can bring no 
 alleviation. One such spirit is more than 
 sufficient to keep a whole family in constant 
 agitation and disquietude. Better is a dinner 
 of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and 
 hatred therewith. A continual dropping in a 
 very rainy day^ and a contentious woman, are 
 alike. It is better to dwell in a corner of the 
 house top, than with a brawling woman in a 
 wide house. It is better to dwell in the wil- 
 derness, than with a contentious and angry 
 woman. The contentions of a wife are a con- 
 tinual dropping. Whether the proverbs of 
 Solomon are the result of experience, or of 
 observation, or of both, we cannot tell, nor 
 is it material ; for the testimony of all ages 
 confirms their truth. In every age, the plain 
 simple meal, with kindness and love, has 
 been preferred to the sumptuous feast with 
 ill-nature, animosities, strife, and hatred. In 
 every age, the repose of the solitary wilder- 
 ness has been preferable to the wide house, 
 filled and disturbed in every part with the 
 
154 
 
 clamorous voice of a peevish, discontented, 
 and brawling woman. In every age, the 
 quietness of an obscure corner in the house- 
 top has been a desirable refuge from the keen 
 and ceaseless contentions of a scolding wife. 
 Females have the right, and are perfectly 
 justifiable in exercising this right, of revers- 
 ing these proverbs, and applying them to the 
 male sex. Many a wife is suffering, in secret, 
 under the ill-nature, the sulky harshness of 
 an unfeeling and tyrannical husband ; suffer- 
 ing, too, when prudence restrains her from 
 pouring her tale of woe into the bosom of 
 the most confidential and intimate friend, and 
 thus seeking that relief which sympathy af- 
 fords. Many a husband seeks to gratify his 
 contentious and cowardly spirit by the keen- 
 ness of his wit, by the biting and reproachful 
 sarcasm, by the sly and invidious hint, or by 
 the boisterous torrent of coarse and vulgar 
 abuse, directed against the wife of his bosom, 
 v/hose peace and happiness he .is bound to 
 promote, and whom gentleness and meekness 
 restrain from attempting to retaliate the in- 
 juries she suffers. If two such rugged and 
 fiery spirits should be connected in matrimo- 
 ny, the discord, and strife, and misery of the 
 family, whose mornings are ushered in with 
 the signal for contention, and whose eve- 
 nings find that contention unfinished, would 
 
155 
 
 give a fearful resemblance to that region from 
 which all goodness, and gentleness, and meek- 
 ness, and forbearance are banished ; where 
 every feature of sin has reached a dreadful 
 maturity ; where they are hateful^ and hating 
 one another j where they are employed in 
 making each other as miserable as possible ; 
 where the wailings of disappointment, the 
 groans of anguish and despair, is the music 
 which leads on the march of eternal exist- 
 ence. 
 
 Who can look on the world, agitated and 
 afflicted as it is with these restless and guilty 
 passions, without breathing to heaven an ar- 
 dent desire for some remedy that will restore 
 peace to the mind, relieve mankind from the 
 evils which they suifer from this source? 
 The Bible is that remedy. No sooner does 
 its divine light shine into the understanding 
 — no sooner does its sacred truth impress the 
 heart, than a change commences, which, in 
 its progress, tends to peace and happiness. 
 The proud man becomes humble ; the ambi- 
 tious man becomes moderate in his expecta- 
 tions and desires ; envy and jealousy wither 
 and die with the root which nourishes them ; 
 the avaricious man gives up his idol, and 
 raises his affections to God ; anger is dis- 
 placed by meekness ; malice, resentment, and 
 revenge, by forbearance, the forgiveness of 
 
156 
 
 injuries, brotherly kindness and charity; the 
 discontented, ill-natured, peevish, murmur- 
 ing, querulous spirit becomes contented, 
 mild, gentle, good-natured, and benevolent. 
 Destroy these evil passions and tempers, and 
 you prevent all the misery and disquietude 
 which they produce ; excite, in their stead, 
 these friendly and devout affections, and 
 those who cherish them will enjoy peace 
 within, become useful members of society, 
 and contribute, in no small degree, to the 
 happiness of all vvilh whom they are con- 
 nected. 
 
 The truth of God has, in itself, a powerful 
 tendency to produce these effects ; and the 
 Spirit of God renders it effectual in the com- 
 mencement and progress of this change. 
 Pride is the offspring of ignorance : remove 
 this ignorance, and you remove with it the 
 pride to v^'hich it gives rise. The knowledge 
 and belief of the truth is the only remedy 
 for ignorance. The proudest man on earth 
 would soon be humble, if he could see the 
 sinfulness and vileness of his own heart, as it 
 is represented in the word of God. Though 
 he might excel thousands of others in talents, 
 in learning, and in wealth, yet under the clear 
 light of truth, he would see that these things 
 shrink into nothing, as it regards his relation 
 to God, and are no foundation for that 
 
157 
 
 exalted idea of his own importance, which 
 he formerly entertained. In the glass of the 
 gospel he will see himself possessed of other 
 features of character than those which he 
 had been accustomed to contemplate, wnth 
 so much self-gratulation ; features which not 
 only expose him to deserved punishment, 
 but also to merited shame and disgrace. 
 Viewing his numerous and criminal deficien- 
 cies when tried by the laws of God, the only 
 correct and infallible standard, he begins to 
 think soberly of himself ^ and not more highly 
 than he ought to think. Ambition is fed by 
 a false estimate respecting the distinctions of 
 this world, of its power, its honour, and its 
 fame. So very erroneous are his views, that 
 his chief happiness consists in obtaining these 
 distinctions- Correct this error, and his 
 ambitious spirit assumes another aspect. 
 Truth is not only the remedy for ignorance, 
 but also the antidote of error. Let him 
 learn from the pages of the Bible the real 
 value of worldly distinctions ; let him learn 
 from the same source the infinite importance 
 of that honour which cometh from God, of the 
 approbation of his Almighty Judge, and the 
 objects alone on which that approbation can 
 fix, and his desire for worldly distinctions 
 will be graduated by the scale of truth ; he 
 will labour that whether present or absent, 
 14 
 
158 
 
 whether in this, or in the world of spirits, 
 he may be. accepted of Him, zuhose favour is 
 life. Whatever be the origin and compo- 
 nent parts of avarice, it is branded in Scrip- 
 ture with the guilt and turpitude of idolatry ; 
 it is robbing God of those affections which 
 are his due, and placing them on objects 
 which do not deserve them. Under the in- 
 fluence of truth, the avaricious man will feel 
 and acknowledge that he is not the inde- 
 pendent proprietor, but the responsible stew- 
 ard of his possessions. Penetrated with this 
 conviction, he will feel his accountability for 
 the use he makes of this wealth ; and will 
 value it chiefly as the means of doing good, 
 of relieving the wants of the suffering, and of 
 promoting the kingdom of Christ. He will 
 see that the love of money is the root of all 
 evil ^ and will set his affections on things 
 above, not on things on the earth. Anger is 
 most effectually prevented by the considera- 
 tions presented to the mind in the Gospel, 
 it is less deliberative, less manageable than 
 either of the preceding passions. Some- 
 times, indeed, it rushes on the mind like an 
 impetuous torrent, and hurries it into pur- 
 poses of revenge, without time for a mo- 
 ment's reflection. Generally, however, it is 
 progressive, though this progress is very 
 rapid. It is excited by a sense of injury 
 
159 
 
 either received or apprehended. The first 
 excitement spreads its own colouring over 
 the provocation, and greatly magnifies the 
 cause of offence. During the paroxysm, all 
 thoughts but those suggested by the real or 
 supposed injury are driven from the mind ; 
 and it is deaf alike to the dictates of its own 
 reason, and to the remonstrances of friend- 
 ship. If you would guard the mind from 
 the iniiuence of this painful and dangerous 
 excitement, you must carefully guard against 
 the very first irritating impression. Strongly 
 associate wnth the sense of injury, those con- 
 siderations which have a powerful tendency 
 to counteract and prevent the very first feel- 
 ings of anger and resentment, and to pre- 
 serve the mind tranquil and composed. In 
 moments of calm reflection, prepare the 
 mind, by storing it with these considerations, 
 for the moment of provocation, as the mo- 
 ment of danger, when this aid will be neces- 
 sary to preserve it in safety ; and when, 
 without care and this aid, it may be hurried 
 into the most violent excesses. Now it is 
 obvious to remark, that this is the very me- 
 thod observed, and these the very means 
 em[doyed in delivering the mind from the 
 influence of anger and all its modifications, 
 malice, resentment and revenge. The deep 
 impressions which the gospel makes on the 
 
160 
 
 heart, the materials of thought with which it 
 supplies the mind, have a powerful tendency 
 to check the tirst risings of anger, and thus 
 to preserve that tranquillity which admits of 
 useful reflection. The man who sees his 
 own guilt in a true light ; who feels himself 
 arraigned before the bar of his Almighty 
 Judge, and charged with numberless offences 
 of the most provoking and aggravating na- 
 ture ; who feels in his own conscience the 
 justice of that sentence which condemns 
 him ; who, with earnest and humble impor- 
 tunity, prays to God that he would pardon 
 his sins, and not punish him as he deserves ; 
 this man will not, with these impressions 
 deeply fixed on his heart, with these recol- 
 lections in his mind, turn round and seize a 
 fellow-creature by the throat, demanding 
 satisfaction for some trifling offence : he will 
 leave the presence of his God with a spirit 
 of meekness, and some degree of that for- 
 giveness of injuries, on which he himself de- 
 pends for the pardon of his guilt. He will 
 thus be prepared to meet the various provo- 
 cations of life with a calmness of reflection, 
 with a shield of meekness, with a spirit of 
 forbearance and forgiveness, which, will dis- 
 arm these provocations of their tendency to 
 disturb his peace. He will sec, from a mo- 
 ment's reflection, that some of these injuries 
 
161 
 
 are imaginary, and not real ; others were not 
 intended : others, though real, are but slight, 
 and cannot atFect his happiness by any means 
 as much as his own irritation would certainly 
 do ; others which were intended, and which 
 materially affect his happiness, as he hopes 
 to be forgiven of God, he will /rom the heart 
 forgive^ and commit himself to him whojudgeth 
 righteously. That discontentedness, murmur- 
 ing, peevishness, &;c. which destroy so much 
 of the peace and comfort of mankind, are 
 weakened and finally swept away by the 
 softening and improving influence of the 
 gospel. The man who is discontented with 
 his present condition, vents his ill nature on 
 the friends who kindly try to please him, 
 murmurs and frets under the slightest incon- 
 venience to which he is subjected, will be 
 cured of this unhappy spirit by an impressive 
 view of his guilt and unworthiness, by per- 
 ceiving how little he deserves from the hand 
 of God or man ; by the conviction that in- 
 stead of the favours with which he is sur- 
 rounded, and the kindness bestowed on him, 
 he deserves the reproach and neglect of men, 
 and the heavy displeasure of God. When 
 the gospel is correctly understood and cor- 
 dially received, it improves the heart, and 
 elevates the mind al30ve the littleness of 
 these repinings and complaints. 
 14* 
 
162 
 
 The gospel prohibits, in the strongest 
 terms, the exercise of these criminal passions ; 
 and enforces, with earnestness, the cultiva- 
 tion of pious, social, and devout affection. 
 From a great number of passages to this ef- 
 fect, the following are offered : — " Pride and 
 arrogance do I hate. Woe to the crown of 
 pride. Love not the world, neither the things 
 that are in the world. If any man love the 
 world, the love of the Father is not in him ; 
 for all that is in the world, the lust of the 
 flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life, 
 is not of the Father. Wherefore laying aside 
 all malice, and all envies. Let us not be 
 desirous of vain glory, provoking one another, 
 envying one another. Let all bitterness and 
 wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil 
 speaking be put away from you, with all ma- 
 lice. And be ye kind one to another, tender- 
 hearted, forgiving one another, even as God 
 for Christ's sake hath forgiven you. Be 
 kindly affectioned one to another, with bro- 
 therly love. But now ye also put off all 
 these; anger, wrath, malice, blasphemy, filthy 
 communication out of your mouth. Put 
 on, therefore, as the elect of God, holy and 
 beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, hum- 
 bleness of mind, meekness, long suffering; 
 forbearing one another, and forgiving one 
 another, if any man have a quarrel against 
 
163 
 
 any ; even as Christ forgave you, so also 
 do ye. And above all these things put on 
 charity, which is the bond of perfectness. 
 Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves; but 
 rather give place unto wrath. See that none 
 render evil for evil unto any man. Be not 
 overcome of evil, but overcome evil with 
 good. Charity suffereth long and is kind ; 
 charity envieth not: charity vaunteth not 
 itself, is not puffed up, is not easily provoked ; 
 beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth 
 all things, endureth all things." — These, and 
 such as these, are the precepts and doctrines, 
 which, being received and obeyed by faith, 
 strike their impression on the heart and form 
 the moral character. 
 
 The structure of the human mind is a 
 grand display of the wisdom of God ; the 
 gospel is also the wisdom of God ; the one 
 is, therefore, adapted to the other. Tt has 
 already been stated that our passions and af- 
 fections can be controlled only by our per- 
 ceptions, thoughts, and conclusions. No man 
 can awaken in his bosom the passion of an- 
 ger, as he can move his hand, by a simple 
 act of volition. He cannot feel resentment 
 towards an object, which, in his apprehen- 
 sion, is perfectly harmless. Some degree of 
 injury, either received or expected, is neces- 
 sary to excite this feeling. Fear cannot be 
 
1G4 
 
 roused without apprehension of clanger. The 
 affection of love can never be called into ex- 
 ercise but by the view of something amiable, 
 the contemplation of which will give plea- 
 sure, and the possession of which will give 
 happiness. To this constitutional trait of 
 the human mind, the gospel is wisely adapt- 
 ed. While it prohibits the exercise of these 
 sinful passions, it pours a flood of light on the 
 objects which excite them ; it shows these 
 objects in their comparative littleness, and 
 their insufliciency to afford the happiness ex- 
 pected from them ; and thus, by divesting 
 them of those properties which they were 
 supposed to possess, the passions arc weak- 
 ened which they had excited. Diminish the 
 the cause, and you diminish the effect pro- 
 duced by that cause. While it requires us 
 to cherish every devout and social affection, 
 it presents to our view objects most worthy 
 of these affections. If it requires us to love 
 God supremely, it exhibits the infinite good- 
 ness of God as the object of this love. If it 
 requires us to be thankful, it exhibits the un- 
 speakable gift, it confers the unmerited fa- 
 vour, as the cause of this thankfulness. If it 
 requires us to hope, it sets before us the 
 atonement of a divine Saviour's death as the 
 ground of this hope. 
 
 God be thanked, says Paul to the Ronians, 
 
165 
 
 that ye have obeyed from the heart that form 
 of doctrine which was delivered you. Some 
 commentators understand him as represent- 
 ing the doctrines of the gospel as a mould, 
 into which the mind is cast, and from which 
 it receives its impressions ; as melted metal, 
 poured into a mould, receives all the impres- 
 sions of that mould. The more closely the 
 mind comes in contact with the gospel, the 
 more deep and lasting will be its impressions. 
 The more accurate and extensive our know- 
 ledge of the gospel becomes, and the more 
 cordially we receive and obey it, the less 
 will we be conformed to this world, and the 
 more will we be transformed by the renewing 
 of our mind ; the more will this world be 
 crucified to us, and we to the world ; the 
 more w^ill we die unto sin, and live unto 
 God ; the more will we be renewed and im- 
 proved in the spirit of our mind. If the 
 gospel does not instantaneously, yet it does 
 gradually and effectually detach our affec- 
 tions from this world, and raise them to God, 
 to the Saviour, and to things spiritual and 
 divine. The farther the Christian advances 
 under the guidance and power of the gospel, 
 the more peace and happiness does he enjoy 
 in his own heart ; the more kind and affec- 
 tionate does he become to his friends, and 
 those who are immediately connected with 
 
166 
 
 him ; the more useful does he become to (he 
 church and to the world. 
 
 The Christian has peace in his own bosom. 
 Compare the man who is proud in spirit^ 
 with the man who has put on humbleness of 
 mind, and you cannot but see the difference. 
 Pride requires for its nourishment the in- 
 cense of adulation continually rising from its 
 altar ; with this nourishment it encreases, and 
 requires still more of this incense for its in- 
 dulgence. Denied of this, it corrodes the 
 bosom with suspicion, dissatisfaction, and 
 jealousy ; and finally turns to pure misan- 
 thropy. Its aspect is repulsive to all men; 
 all find a secret delight in witnessing its mor- 
 tification, chagrin and disappointment. Hu- 
 mility, on the other hand, evangelical humil- 
 ity, is modest and conciliating. Advancing 
 no claims for the notice and applause of this 
 world, it is perfectly safe from the disquie- 
 tude of disappointment and chagrin. Where- 
 ever it appears it proclaims peace within, 
 and good will to men. Seeking and valuing 
 chiefly the approbation of God, this can be 
 enjoyed in retirement, remote from the strife 
 and tumult of the world. With this appro- 
 bation it increases ; and the more it increases 
 the more independent does it become of the 
 admiration of this world. If there is peace 
 on earth, it will be found in retirement, in 
 the bosom that is meek and lozoly. 
 
167 
 
 Where shall we tind a suitable contrast be- 
 tween the spirit of restless ambition, and that 
 moderatio7i^ respecting the distinctions of this 
 world, which characterises every true Chris- 
 tian ? Take Caesar, at the moment when he 
 had formed the resolution to pass the Rubi- 
 con : — Rather take an example of more re- 
 cent date, over which antiquity has thrown 
 less obscurity; take the late emperor of 
 France, at the moment when the design of 
 invading Russia is formed. His calculations 
 are made ; his diagrams are finished ; his 
 generals are named; his places of depot are 
 appointed ; the route of his army is pre- 
 scribed ; the first order is issued, and the first 
 step is taken in execution of this design. At 
 this moment, so eventful in his life, with 
 what conflicting passions must not his mind 
 have been agitated and torn ? At one mo- 
 ment he anticipates the glory of dictating 
 terms of peace to Alexander, in the metro- 
 polis of his own empire; m^d then, as the 
 consequence of this victory, sees, what he 
 had not yet seen, England trembling at his 
 triumphant progress ; and, perhaps, casting 
 his eye across the Atlantic, and adorning his 
 brow with a few laurels from this country. 
 But although a tide of almost uninterrupted 
 success had attended his movements, yet no 
 man knew better than he did the perils and 
 
168 
 
 hazards of war; he could not drive from his 
 mind the possibility of a reverse ; nor could 
 he well avoid anticipating sonne of the con- 
 sequences of this reverse; the glory already 
 attained might be clouded ; the throne on 
 which he is seated might be shaken ; the sta- 
 tion which he now fills might be lost. Thus, 
 although not one ray of prophetic light shone 
 on the prospect before him, though he could 
 not foresee that train of events which are now 
 historical facts, yet he could not prevent these 
 tremendous uncertainties, those painful per- 
 adventures, from commingling with his more 
 pleasing anticipations, and disturbing his 
 peace. The blood which is to tlow, the 
 groans to be uttered, the pangs and tortures 
 of death to be felt, the grief and anguish of 
 surviving friends, gave him no uneasy sensa- 
 tion : for ambition is deaf and blind to these 
 things. With this man contrast our beloved 
 Washington, at the moment when he enters 
 the hall of congress, with the view of laying 
 on their table the commission previously re- 
 ceived from them. The toils, and labours, 
 the perils of war are past. His mihtary 
 prowess had been admired, even by his ene- 
 mies ; but this is the moment when his cha- 
 racter appears in all its dignity, surrounded 
 with a glory which Alexander, which Cagsar, 
 which Bonaparte never attained. The in- 
 
1G9 
 
 dependence of his country is acknowledged. 
 There appears in his view a rising and ex- 
 panding empire, the patroness of hberty, and 
 the asylunfi for the distressed and the perse- 
 cuted of all nations. Every feature of his 
 countenance tells the noble and generous 
 feelings of his heart. The recollection of 
 past scenes, of the companions who fell by 
 his side, of the sufferings he witnessed, 
 awakens a sympathy which imparts a softness 
 and tenderness to these manly feelings, and 
 renders them still more interesting. Those 
 hopes which animated and supported him 
 through the hazards of the Revolution, are 
 now realised ; his peace of mind is undis- 
 turbed ; his joy is pure and sublime. Bona- 
 parte was a man of boundless ambition : 
 Washington was a man of genuine, of tried 
 patriotism ; and what is infinitely more, theie 
 is reason to hope, he was a man of sincere 
 piety. The design of this contrast is not in- 
 vidious, but to enforce the divine precept ; 
 Let your moderation be known to all men. He 
 who cherishes a spirit of ambition is sharp- 
 ening a thorn to pierce his own heart. 
 
 The Christian, whose heart is thoroughly 
 reformed, " neither envies nor grieves at the 
 good of his neighbour;" the excellence and 
 the happiness of others no longer subject him 
 to the painful feelings of malignity and hatred 
 15 
 
170 
 
 towards them. Their happiness increases 
 his own ; he rejoices with those who do rejoice. 
 His' benevolence, his Christian charity, lead 
 him to desire and pray for the happiness of 
 all men ; when his prayer is answered he is 
 thankful not envious^ 
 
 How calm and peaceful is the mind, guard- 
 ed from the painful agitations of anger, wrath, 
 malice, resentment and revenge, by that 
 meekness, forbearance and forgiveness, which 
 are features of every Christian character? 
 The moment of provocation is the moment 
 when those affections are required and called 
 into exercise, and when they appear in their 
 most amiable and attractive light. The 
 greater the provocation, the more it would 
 justify, in the world's estimation, the feelings 
 of resentment, the more glorious is the tri- 
 umph of the Christian in maintaining a sweet 
 serenity and peace of mind. The man of 
 wrathful spirit takes the work of vengeance 
 into his own hands, and, driven by blind and 
 furious passion, inflicts the punishment which 
 resentment suggests. When this excitement 
 has subsided, when he reviews, in cooler 
 moments, what is past, often will he find that 
 this one rash act will furnish reflections more 
 than sufiicient to embitter his future life. 
 The Christian, through the exercise of meek- 
 ness and forbearance, prevents the passion 
 
171 
 
 from rising ; and, in the true spirit of his 
 Master, forgives the injury received. Being 
 reviled, he blesses ; bei?ig defamed, he entreats^ 
 and prays for those ivho despitefully use him. 
 This spirit and this conduct will not pursue 
 and torment him, in his moments of retire- 
 ment, with bitter reflections, with painful 
 regret, with remorse of conscience ; it will 
 spread through his soul, and over his life, 
 the blessings of peace ; even the peace of 
 God which passeth all understanding. 
 
 There are some who, though sufficiently 
 guarded against the more violent passions, 
 are yet subject to constant uneasiness and 
 disquietude from the ordinary occurrences 
 of every day. If all the details of domestic 
 arrangements are not performed with mathe- 
 matical exactness ; if the furniture is not rub- 
 bed in a particular way ; if the fuel is not 
 laid on the fire according to a precise rule — 
 a rule too, known only to themselves ; if one 
 corner of the table-cloth is but an eighth of 
 an inch lower than the other, &c. &c. they 
 complain, they are vexed, they are unhappy. 
 Now, for this fretful, dissatisfied temper, the 
 gospel offers a sovereign remedy. As the 
 Christian advances in the divine life he is 
 delivered from this troop oUittle foxes, which 
 spoil the vines of their tender grapes ; from 
 that habitual impatience with trifles, which. 
 
172 
 
 though it does not expose him to reproach 
 from the world or censure from the church, 
 yet unfits him for devotion, and retards his 
 progress in hohness. Not that the Christian 
 is less observant, or less attentive to neatness 
 and order in his arrangements than others, 
 but he cannot sacrifice his peace of mind on 
 account of such minute irregularities ; he has 
 risen above that region in the moral atmo- 
 sphere where such things produce their an- 
 noyance. The most effectual way to deliver 
 the mind from the vexation of trifling cares 
 is to bring it under the influence of those 
 which are truly important. These things, 
 compared with the more weighty concerns 
 even of this world, deserve but little atten- 
 tion ; and in presence uf the grand objects 
 of eternity, with which the Christian's mind 
 is deeply impressed, and from which he de- 
 rives his chief happiness, they lose their 
 power to annoy. If your friends were aiding 
 your escape from a house on fire, you would 
 not complain, provided your escape and your 
 safety were secured, though they did not 
 observe all the little punctilios of politeness 
 in affording that aid. In the absence of the 
 sun, the stars are visible ; but no sooner does 
 he appear than they shrink from observation, 
 and are seen no more. The Christian is 
 doing a great work^ he cannot come down 
 
173 
 
 to these minute enquiries ; he is running a 
 race for a prize of infinite value, he cannot 
 stop to complain of the slight inequalities of 
 the path. 
 
 It is therefore, a blessing to any man to 
 be turned from his iniquity \ to be delivered 
 from those violent and sinful passions which 
 fill his bosom with anxiety and tumult ; and 
 to have produced in their stead, those pious 
 affections, those friendly and social feehngs 
 which bring with them peace and joy to his 
 own breast. At the same time, while har- 
 mony reigns in his own mind, having become 
 a new creature^ having put on Christy he is 
 disposed to be more kind and affectionate to 
 his friends, and more useful to the church, 
 to society, and to the world. The transform- 
 ation of a sinful character into the meek- 
 ness and lowliness of the Saviour's image is 
 a two-fold blessing to society. It is turning 
 a source of disquietude and misery, into a 
 source of peace and happiness ; a fountain 
 of bitter, poisonous and dangerous water, 
 into a salutary, healthful and refreshing 
 stream ; it is changing an enemy into a kind 
 and valuable friend. This truth was never 
 more clearly nor more forcibly exemplified 
 than in the case of Saul of Tarsus. He was 
 one of the most fearful enemies the infant 
 church had to dread. His very name was a 
 15* 
 
174 
 
 terror to the disciples ; for he breathed out 
 threatening and slaughter against them. 
 Merely to have been delivered from such an 
 enemy, would have been a great blessing: 
 but to have this same enemy, with all his 
 mighty powers of mind, with all his learning, 
 with all his characteristic ardour and zeal, 
 turned into a decided and active friend ; into 
 one of the most intrepid advocates, one of 
 the most laborious, persevering atid success- 
 ful preachers the church ever had, was a 
 blessing still greater, and called for still more 
 devout and thankful acknowledgments. It 
 is not strange, therefore, that when the dis- 
 ciples heard that he was now preaching the 
 faith lohich once he destroyed^ that they glo- 
 rified God in him. This in a greater or less 
 degree, is the etlect of every instance of real 
 conversion by the word and the spirit of 
 God. 
 
 Look at the proud man, whose brow is 
 continually arched with arrogance, whose 
 step and movement are indications of the 
 haughty spirit that reigns within ; would you 
 expect this man to be a tender and affection- 
 ate husband, or father, or brother? Would 
 you not rather expect that in the bosom of 
 his family, removed from the restraint of 
 public observation, that he will be distant, 
 imfeeling and morose; impatient if his wants 
 
175 
 
 are not attended to before they are known ; 
 expecting every member of his family to 
 gratify his wishes without the satisfaction of 
 knowing that he was pleased with their at- 
 tention? Would you expect him to perform 
 those offices of kindness, little, indeed, when 
 separately considered, but returning so fre- 
 quently as to make up a large amount of 
 domestic happiness ? Would you expect to 
 see him seeking out the poor, the suffering 
 and distressed, and ministering to their com- 
 fort and relief? No : the incongruity of his 
 spirit to these offices of kindness, utterly 
 forbids the expectation. To perform these 
 offices; to occupy this province of usefulness, 
 you naturally look to the man who is clothed 
 with humility. You as naturally expect that 
 this lowliness of mind is associated with that 
 benevolence and meekness, with that gentle- 
 ness and charity which are features of the 
 same character; and that the man possessing 
 this spirit will sweeten the scenes of domestic 
 life with his good will, his kindness and con- 
 descension, and that he will take pleasure in 
 searching out and relieving the poor and 
 the afflicted, as you expect the proud man to 
 be a petty, unfeeling tyrant at home, and to 
 leave the poor and distressed in their unpitied 
 suffering. Think of all the relations of life 
 and of society ; of father, of husband, of bro- 
 
176 
 
 ther, of friend, of neighbour, of teacher, of 
 magistrate, of legislator, of judge, of chief 
 ruler ; and is it not more than probable, that 
 if in other respects they are equal, in talents, 
 in learning, in wealth, every human being, 
 capable of perceiving the difference, would 
 prefer the man of sincere humility to the 
 proud man in either of these relations ? 
 
 Would you see the difference exemplified, 
 as it regards the happiness of mankind, be- 
 tween the spirit of ambition, and those desires 
 for worldly distinctions which are graduated 
 by the scale of truth ? Permit us, for this 
 purpose, again to bring before you, those two 
 men, of all others the most distinguished on 
 the theatre of modern times — Bonaparte 
 and Washington. There is reason to believe 
 that Bonaparte, when he commenced his 
 public career, had no intention of reaching 
 the throne of France. All that he then hoped 
 to attain, in all probability, was the reputation 
 of an accomplished general. But, as he ad- 
 vanced, success fed and increased his am- 
 bition, till at length it prompted him to seize 
 the sceptre, which he perceived was held by 
 a feeble and unsteady hand. Reaching this 
 elevated theatre, his ambition receives a new 
 and powerful impulse from beholding the 
 new rivals and competitors, with whom he 
 is surrounded, in the neighbouring sovereigns 
 
177 
 
 of F]urope. These must be equalled, then 
 excelled, and then humbled. The generals 
 who were once his rivals are now his subor- 
 dinate agents. His fame and his dominion 
 are now to be extended. For this purpose 
 the lives of hundreds and thousands were 
 sacrificed. He alleged, it is true, other rea- 
 sons for his measures ; his professed object 
 was to give freedom to Europe ; but the mil- 
 lions who were subjugated to his power felt 
 the iron hand of despotism. The world and 
 posterity will testify that the incalculable 
 miseries which marked his progress were 
 chiefly if not solely to gratify his boundless 
 ambition. Washington was called, by the 
 voice of his country, to one of the most diffi- 
 cult, arduous and important stations to which 
 it was possible for that country to call him. 
 After spending successive years of toil and 
 privation and peril in that station, he neither 
 asked nor would receive the smallest com- 
 pensation for his services. He was instru- 
 mental in obtaining for his country the 
 blessings of civil and religious liberty; the 
 invaluable inheritance of every American : 
 and may kind Providence secure this inherit- 
 ance to our posterity till the last moment of 
 time ! This object being accomplished, he 
 leaves the public theatre on which he had 
 acted so conspicuous a part, and returns to 
 
178 
 
 his beloved retirement, there to enjoy the 
 only reward which his heart desired, the 
 blessings of peace with his fellow-citizens. 
 Which of these was the most useful to man- 
 kind ? The one convulsed all Europe, and 
 filled whole empires with tumult, with deso- 
 lation, with mourning, with sorrow, with 
 death : the other, at the call of his country 
 cheerfully shared in the fatigues and the 
 hazards of war ; and in connection with his 
 illustrious companions, in the senate and in 
 the field, procured for his beloved country 
 independence and freedom — blessings which 
 we to this hour enjoy. The difference is 
 too striking to escape observation, and the 
 conclusion too obvious to admit the least 
 doubt. 
 
179 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Meekness, forbearance, kindness, &c. promote human 
 happiness. 
 
 We speak of the man who is a Christian, 
 not merely by assuming the name, and mak- 
 ing the profession, but who is such in real- 
 ity ; whose character is forming by the word 
 and spirit of God, to greater and greater 
 degrees of resemblance to the character of 
 Christ. Surround this man with the provo- 
 cations and trials which excite the anger, 
 resentment, impatience, fretfulness, &;c. of 
 others ; and we maintain that he will contri- 
 bute to the peace and happiness of society in 
 a much greater degree, in consequence of 
 possessing this character, than others, in 
 similar circumstances, would do. What is 
 the most plausible reason assigned for re- 
 senting an insult and avenging an injury? It 
 is to prevent a repetition of the offence. If 
 you tamely submit, it is alleged, you draw on 
 yourself the reproach of cowardice ; you in- 
 vite aggression by declaring that you may be 
 insulted with impuity. Show yourself a man 
 
180 
 
 of spirit; resent the injuries jou receive, and 
 they will not be repeated. This is the way, 
 this is the language, and this is the spirit of 
 the world. The Bible teaches a different 
 method, holds a different language, and in- 
 fuses into the Christian a different spirit. 
 The question is, which of them is most con- 
 ducive to the happiness of man. Has cow- 
 ardice a more natural connection with 
 meekness, forbearance and the forgiveness of 
 injuries than it has with those passions which 
 inflict these injuries? If courage be, as some 
 suppose it, in part at least, a natural quality, 
 or constitutional trait of character, then, the 
 want of it is not criminal, any more than the 
 want of bodily strength. Has the Christian 
 no other way of manifesting his magnanimity 
 than by the indulgence of anger, malice and 
 resentment, and by inflicting punishment on 
 those who displease him? Does it not display 
 more true courage and fortitude to subdue 
 these turbulent passions, and maintain meek- 
 ness and tranquillity of mind, under those 
 provocations, which, in the opinion of the 
 world, will justify resentment and revenge? 
 Is it not a much more decisive proof of pu- 
 sillanimity and cowardice to insult a man 
 when it is known that he, by his religious 
 principle, is restrained from resistance, than 
 it is, from the heart to forgive the insult ? 
 
181 
 
 It is the mark of a mean pitiful soul to vent 
 its wrath on the unresisting ; but it is a noble 
 achievement, a mark of real fortitude, to con- 
 quer those passions which would prompt to 
 retaliation. In the opinion of the world it 
 is much more difficult to exercise forbearance, 
 and to forgive an injury, than it is to in- 
 dulge resentment and to seek revenge. Ac- 
 cording to this opinion there is more magna- 
 nimity displayed in forgiving an injury, than 
 in revenging it. He that is slow to anger, is 
 better than the mighty ; and he that ruleth his 
 spirit, than he that taketh a city. We recom- 
 mend on this subject, an excellent sermon of 
 Dr. Witherspoon on Christian Magnanimity. 
 But let us suppose that you act on the 
 principles of the world ; when you are re- 
 viled, that you revile again ; when you are 
 abused, that you return the abuse with inte- 
 rest ; when threatened, with a louder and 
 more angry tone, you threaten in return \ 
 with a spirit corresponding with your words, 
 you curse those, who curse you ; that to the 
 utmost of your power you exert yourself to 
 overcome evil with evil, to injure those who 
 injure you, whether it be in character, in 
 property or in person. Now, it is possible, 
 that your language, in this terrible conflict 
 may be so much more abusive, reproachful, 
 bitter, and wounding to the feehngs, than 
 16 
 
182 
 
 that of your antagonist ; and that your resent- 
 ment and your strength may be so much 
 greater than his, that you inflict a greater in- 
 jury on him than he can on you ; that he may 
 be induced, from the principle of mere self- 
 ishness, to desist, and not to attack you again. 
 But unless you surpass him in your reviling, 
 your threatening, your cursing, your rage, and 
 the punishment you inflict ; this purpose will 
 not be answered ; he will be just as likely to 
 return on you again, as he will on any other 
 person ; and indeed more so : for he will be 
 more gratified with his triumph over one 
 who makes some resistance, than over one 
 who makes none ; this will be a more de- 
 cisive proof of his superiority in those 
 qualities on account of which he values him- 
 self. Unless therefore, you can make him 
 afraid ofyour abuse, your resentment andyour 
 power, you do not secure your safety from 
 future insults. And if you should excite his 
 fear, and thus secure your own safety, you 
 leave him with all his malevolence to attack 
 others who may not possess your talents for 
 reviling and for injury. Your resentment 
 has not the slightest tendency to extinguish 
 his passions, but rather to increase them. 
 He will, therefore, most probably seek to 
 gratify that revenge which your opposition 
 has excited on those who cannot make the 
 ame resistance. 
 
183 
 
 Besides ; the very first anger that flashes 
 from your eye, the first resentful word you 
 utter, will increase his anger, and his lan- 
 guage will be more provoking ; this will in- 
 crease, and justify your resentment on the 
 same principle on which the first feeling of 
 this nature is justified. As coals are to burn- 
 ing coals, and wood to fire ; so is a contentious 
 man to kindle strife : Grievous words stir up 
 anger : A wrathful man stirreth up strife. 
 One word brings on another ; and each one 
 more bitter, more provoking than the pre- 
 ceding. Thus passion increases, till two 
 rational beings are turned into perfect furies. 
 Behold, how great a matter a little fire kin- 
 dleth ! How small was the beginning of this 
 tremendous conflict of angry and revengeful 
 passions ! And is it possible this is the way, 
 and this the spirit best calculated to promote 
 the happiness of man ? Is it possible that a 
 Christian, under any circumstances, can act 
 this part, and cherish these feelings? As 
 soon might we suppose that the innocent 
 dove should dart on its prey with all the 
 unfeehng rapine of the eagle or the hawk ; 
 that the meek and harmless lamb should 
 roam through the forest with the rage and 
 fierceness of the hungry lion or the tiger. 
 
 Let us suppose, then, that you possess the 
 Christian character ; and that you are con- 
 
184 
 
 scientiously governed by the principles of 
 the Bible. You will i\\en^ follow peace with 
 all men. If it be possible^ as much as lieth in 
 you, you will live peaceably with all men ; 
 you will follow after the things which make 
 for peace ; you will so bridle the tongue as 
 not to offend in word. You will not, with 
 expresssions, indeed, of regret, but with se- 
 cret pleasure, take up and circulate a re- 
 proach against your neighbour, merely be- 
 cause you can give the author from whom 
 you received it. No person who undertakes 
 the fruitless task of tracing back to its author, 
 some vague, though scandalous report, will 
 find you a link in the chain, along which it 
 has been communicated. You will be no 
 tale-bearer : you will not cherish that censo- 
 rious spirit which would lead you to back- 
 bitings, whisperings, against those, whom de- 
 cency and a regard to public opinion re- 
 strain you from defaming more openly. No 
 secret ill-will, envy, or jealousy, will per- 
 mit you to be gratified in hearing from others 
 that calumny and detraction of your neigh- 
 bour's character, which motives of selfish 
 policy prevent you from uttering yourself. 
 Your piety will be of that sound, scriptural 
 character which will give no just cause of 
 offence to any human being. Your zeal 
 will be guarded by prudence, by that wisdom 
 
185 
 
 that Cometh down from above. Your pri- 
 vate devotion will be without any thing, 
 intended and understood by others, as a sig- 
 nal to give information of its performance. 
 When called to act before others, you will 
 not display that vain ostentation which is 
 gratified with public observation. if you 
 give reproof, it will not be with that harsh 
 and unfeeling language, better calculated to 
 irritate than to soften and reform ; but with 
 that mildness and gentleness which will give 
 weight and even keenness to the reproof. 
 If you give advice on any subject, it will not 
 be with a dogmatising, dictating spirit, but 
 with that kindness and affection which will 
 be calculated to gain admittance to the 
 heart, and to persuade. Cherishing this 
 spirit, and pursuing this deportment, those 
 who might be disposed to calumniate or in- 
 jure you, shall 7iot find any occasion against 
 you^ except^ like Daniel, they find it against 
 you concerning the law ofi your God. Your 
 example may reproach and condemn those 
 who are determined to live in sin ; your re- 
 proof, however wisely and tenderly given, 
 may irritate those who will not reform. To 
 silence, if possible, the voice of an accusing 
 conscience, and to justify their perseverance 
 in sin, they may say all manner of evil 
 against you ; they may revile you for right- 
 16^ 
 
186 
 
 eousness' sake ; but they cannot, in our high- 
 ly favoured country, persecute you on ac- 
 count of religion ; that is, as we understand 
 it, they cannot prosecute you at the civil 
 law. But however pious and friendly may 
 be your disposition, however harmless may 
 be your life, we will not affirm that you will 
 not, on other accounts than religion, meet 
 with trials, and provocation, and injuries 
 from the sinful passions of men. We do 
 think, however, that such a life will secure 
 you, in a great measure, from these trials 
 and provocations. In many cases, he who 
 is considered the aggressor, has some cause 
 for his anger ; we do not mean a justifiable 
 one; for nothing can justify these criminal 
 passions ; but some unguarded word or ac- 
 tion, which might have been avoided, with- 
 out sacrificing one religious feeling, or vio- 
 lating one obligation ; something which dis- 
 turbs and irritates a mind uninfluenced by 
 the principles of the gospel. God may 
 permit these trials to surround you, for the 
 purpose of calling into exercise, and strength- 
 ening some of the most amiable virtues of 
 the Christian character. It is only under 
 provocation, that meekness and forbearance 
 can be exercised ; only when an injury is 
 received, that the spirit of forgiveness can 
 exert its heavenly influence. Such are the 
 
187 
 
 views which the Bible gives on this subject. 
 My brethren^ says the Apostle James, count 
 it all joy when ye fallinto divers temptations : 
 and again ; blessed is the man that endureth 
 temptation. The word temptation^ includes 
 the trials to which we refer. They are di- 
 vers^ that they may furnish occasion for the 
 exercise of every principle of the Christian 
 character; they are to be endured^ that is, 
 their tendency to excite any degree of crimi- 
 nal passion, or to lead from the path of duty, 
 must be resisted and overcome by those very 
 principles, which they are intended to call 
 into exercise and strengthen. When the 
 presence of suffering is felt, {hen ^ patience is 
 to have her perfect work ^ when provocation 
 is offered, then, meekness and forbearance 
 are called for; when an injury is received, 
 then, forgiveness is to be exercised. It is a 
 cause of blessedness and joy, when these 
 trials, without leading to sin, are the means 
 of advancing towards perfection these pious 
 and amiable dispositions of the heart. It is 
 in connection with this very subject, that the 
 apostle gives those wise and salutary ex- 
 hortations. — Let every man be slow to speak, 
 slow to wrath. Wherefore lay apart all 
 flthiness and superfluity of naughtiness, and 
 receive with meekness the ingrafted word, 
 which is able to save your souls. In the 
 
188 
 
 midst of these revilings, and calumnies, and 
 injuries, from a wicked world, you will have 
 this very great advantage ; the consciousness 
 of innocence for your support. With con- 
 fidence you can commit yourself to Him who 
 judgeth righteously, and feel the assurance 
 that in his sight, you are not culpable. You 
 need not adopt the finesse of displaying your 
 anger and resentment, as proof that you are 
 unjustly assailed ; for this, at best, is but 
 equivocal proof of the fact. When provo- 
 cation is given, honestly obey the principles 
 of the Bible, be a doer of the word ^ and we 
 maintain, that you will not only preserve the 
 peace of your own mind, but you will very 
 much contribute (o the happiness of society. 
 We maintain this point on the authority of 
 the Bible itself; and, if we mistake not, it 
 is confirmed by experience and observation. 
 We have never known an instance, in which 
 the precepts of the Bible were faithfully ex- 
 emplified, that was not followed by the hap- 
 piest consequences. All those contentions, 
 which often leave animosities seated in the 
 hearts of two numerous parties, and not un- 
 frequently lead to blood and to murder, 
 commence with but a slight degree of anger, 
 which, if proper measures were pursued, 
 would be quite manageable. Words are 
 generally the first indication of the rising 
 
189 
 
 passion within, with these the first onset is 
 made. Then is the very time to try the 
 utiHty and power of the precepts of the Bi- 
 ble, and test the truth of its declarations. A 
 soft answer turneth away wrath, is one of 
 these declarations. If you have done wrong, 
 have given any cause of offence, make a 
 suitable apology ; and if your aggressor be a 
 man of generous spirit, this will satisfy him. 
 If you are conscious of innocence, shielded 
 with meekness, forbear to use language in- 
 tended or calculated to irritate and provoke ; 
 let your reply be mild and conciliating. No 
 fuel being furnished to the flame, it will most 
 probably subside. Perceiving no signs of 
 anger or resentment, he will pause, his 
 thoughts will take a different direction, and 
 his wrath will be turned away. If, how- 
 ever, it should be otherwise, if his own 
 words should increase his anger; if, having 
 uttered one provoking word, he should think 
 another still more abusive necessary to jus- 
 tify the first ; if he should exhaust the whole 
 vocabulary of vituperation and cursing; and 
 if he still meets with nothing but mildness, 
 he will see that he is wasting his wrath for 
 no purpose ; he will be disappointed in per- 
 ceiving that you are not irritated, that you 
 do not feel his attack, will see that he is ex- 
 posing himself, and shame will suppress his 
 
190 
 
 resentment. A soft tongue breaketh the bone. 
 This will be making a fair experiment on the 
 principles of the Bible; and we venture to 
 affirm, that every experiment of this kind 
 will prove the powerful tendency of these 
 principles to preserve the peace and pro- 
 mote the happiness of society. This anger, 
 in the very commencement, will most pro- 
 bably be suppressed by your mildness ; but 
 if, without resistance from you, it should rage 
 on till it exhausts itself, he will much sooner 
 feel disposed to be reconciled to you ; and 
 if his nature does not bear the stamp of the 
 most extreme baseness, such will be his feel- 
 ings of disappointment and shame, that he 
 will be less likely to attack you a second 
 time, than if you had felt and manifested a 
 spirit of resentment. 
 
 Again ; If thine enemy hunger, feed himj 
 if he thirst, give him drink ^ for in so doing 
 thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head : Be 
 not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with 
 good. This implies more than mere forbear- 
 ance and mildness ; it requires the exercise 
 of benevolence, doing good to him who has 
 injured, or who intends to injure you. Love 
 your enemies — The love of complacency you 
 cannot cherish towards any man whose cha- 
 racter, in your opinion, is not worthy of it; 
 but the love of benevolence you can, and 
 
191 
 
 ought to feel towards all men, even your bit- 
 terest enemy. If he is in distress or afflic- 
 tion, comfort and relieve him, and cheerfully 
 embrace every opportunity of doing him 
 good ; not merely once or twice, but as often 
 as the opportunity may offer. This active 
 benevolence, this persevering kindness, will 
 subdue his opposition, will soften his heart, 
 and awaken friendly feelings towards you. 
 Though he should not acknowledge it, yet, 
 if you can make h\m feel that you have done 
 him good, conscious that he does not deserve 
 it, this very feeling will destroy his enmity, 
 as certainly as metal will melt in the midst 
 of burning coals. Until this feeling is pro- 
 duced in the heart of your enemy, the object 
 is not accomplished ; hence you must not 
 grozo weary in well doing ; in the midst of 
 discouragements you must persevere in kind- 
 ness. It is not sufficient merely to cast the 
 metal into the fire — the degree of heat, and 
 the length of time, must be sufficient to an- 
 swer the purpose. One kind of metal will 
 melt with a less degree of heat, and in a 
 shorter time than another. If your kindness 
 fails to soften your enemy and change him 
 into a friend, it is for want of perseverance, 
 or for want of catching the occasion most 
 favourable to success. There are different 
 degrees of enmity; one degree will be over- 
 
192 
 
 come by that kindness which will produce 
 but Httle effect on another. Some hearts 
 are more easily touched with kindness than 
 others. Under certain circumstances, and 
 after a certain train of thought, your enemy 
 may spurn your kindness ; but let the circum- 
 stances in which he is placed and the state 
 of his mind be different, and the effect will 
 be different. Therefore, do not despair; in 
 due season you shall reap, if you faint not. 
 You shall, sooner or later, see your enemy 
 overcome by your goodness, changed into a 
 friend, and willing to acknowledge your 
 kindness. If the metal does not melt in a 
 given time, let it remain still longer; if one 
 degree of heat is insufficient, increase that 
 degree, and the purpose will be answered. 
 Overcome evil with good : this exhortation 
 surely does not require you to do what is 
 impossible, but what is practicable by perse- 
 vering in the use of those means calculated 
 to answer the purpose. If seven instances 
 of kindness are not successful, you are not 
 to doubt the truth of the gospel, and give up 
 the task as entirely hopeless ; you are to try 
 the force of seventy times seven j each in- 
 stance rendered with more cordiality, if pos- 
 sible, than the preceding. Cherish the firm 
 conviction that in due time the purpose will 
 be accomplished, that the Lord shall reward 
 
193 
 
 you with success ; your enemy will, at length, 
 feel and acknowledge that you have done 
 him good ; and it is under the influence of 
 this feeling that his enmity begins to melt, 
 and that friendly dispositions towards you 
 arise in his heart. Thus you will gain a bro- 
 ther, perhaps, save a soul from death, and 
 prevent a multitude of sins, preserve peace 
 and harmony when discord and strife would 
 have taken place, and probably have been 
 transmitted to future generations. 
 
 You are not to allege, as an excuse for 
 your neglect or want of perseverance, that 
 the duty is difficult. You are not to sit in 
 judgment on the wisdom and propriety of 
 the divine precepts, cast off the authority of 
 your moral governor, and assume the right of 
 prescribing for yourself that service which 
 he ought to accept. If you claim this right 
 you must grant it to others, and thus it will 
 be made to cover the neglect of every duty. 
 You may allege that it is difficult to forgive 
 and do good to an enemy who has injured 
 you ; that it is much easier to resent and re- 
 tahate. Another may allege with equal 
 truth, that prayer, with the spirit andzoith the 
 understandings is very difficult to him ; ano- 
 ther, that the proper observance of the Sab- 
 bath is extremely irksome to him : will this 
 be a sufficient excuse for the neglect of these 
 17 
 
194 
 
 important duties? No more in either of 
 these cases than it will in your own. Would 
 you extend the same right to the citizens of 
 the state? Your neighbour is indolent, he 
 cannot labour, to beg he is ashamed^ he finds 
 it difficult to be honest and to abstain from 
 stealing your property. Will you excuse 
 him on this ground? If not, excuse not 
 yourself by the same reason for neglecting a 
 duty on which the peace and happiness of 
 society so much depend. In the case of 
 your neighbour, this excuse would be the 
 confession of his own guilt, and proof that he 
 was not a good citizen. So will it be in 
 your own case: a confession that your faith 
 in the word of God is weak, and that you 
 possess but little of the spirit of your Divine 
 Saviour, whom you profess to love, and 
 whose example you have publicly and so- 
 lemnly pledged yourself to imitate. If you 
 possessed more of that meekness, forbearance 
 and kindness which characterised the Saviour, 
 this difficulty would not be so great. Nor 
 are you to allege that your aggressor has done 
 wrong, and therefore deserves punishment. 
 This is admitted ; but at whose hands does 
 he deserve it : will you assume the right of 
 inflicting punishment when it is deserved? 
 This is the prerogative which God most ex- 
 plicitly claims to himself: Vengeance is mine, 
 
195 
 
 I will repay ^ saith the Lord. When you un- 
 dertake to avenge yourself, surely you cannot 
 reflect on all the consequences. The wilful 
 transgression of his law is bold and impious 
 rebellion against him ; by what name shall 
 we call it, then, to arrogate and presume to 
 exercise one of the sacred and awful perfec- 
 tions of God 1 Besides, you not only teach 
 God, but you do virtually pray to him that 
 he would treat you as you do those who of- 
 fend or injure you. Every degree of anger 
 and resentment which you feel — every pro- 
 voking word you utter — every effort you 
 make to injure your adversary, is an appeal 
 to God that he would visit you ; not with the 
 pardon of sin, according to his tender mercy, 
 but in justice, according to' the guilt of your 
 offences against him. It is from the assur- 
 ance that God will execute justice that your 
 duty is inferred — / will repay j therefore^ if 
 thine enemy hunger^ feed him^ <^c. If the 
 Sovereign Judge had not pledged himself to 
 do justice, this duty would not be so forcibly 
 and so clearly enjoined. This pledge from 
 God takes away from you the plea that your 
 enemy deserves punishment. The world, 
 indeed, will justify your resentment and your 
 retaliation ; but the world is ignorant of the 
 principles by which, as a Christian, you are 
 governed. The world knoweth us not. The 
 
196 
 
 spirit and principles of the Christian charac- 
 ter are foolishness to the natural man ; neither 
 can he know them^ because they are spiritually 
 discerned. He that is spiritual discerneth all 
 things^ yet he himself is discerned of no man. 
 You are not to be conformed to this world in 
 its spirit, its principles, or its practice. You 
 are not to reject the declarations of the 
 Bible as if their truth and their tendency 
 were doubtful, and in their place adopt the 
 maxims and spirit of an ignorant and wicked 
 world. You are to cherish the spirit and 
 imitate the example of Christ, who prayed 
 for the pardon of those enemies who nailed 
 him to the cross. 
 
 There is a collateral view of the subject 
 which enforces this duty and confirms the 
 hope that your kindness will transform your 
 enemy into a friend ; it is the method of the 
 gospel in bringing sinners to God ; they are 
 softened, and subdued and changed by kind- 
 ness. Every human being, by nature, feels 
 towards God an enmity which is deep-rooted, 
 active and persevering. This opposition 
 never has been and never will be subdued by 
 any degree of terror which sinners can be 
 made to feel. It is melted away by the in- 
 fluence of sovereign grace ; and especially 
 by that astonishing instance of unmerited 
 goodness and infinite mercy, the pardon of 
 
197 
 
 sin. The very moment the hope of pardon 
 is cherished, that moment this enmity dies, 
 to revive no more as a dominant principle 
 in the heart, and love to God ascends the 
 throne in its place. Enemies are changed 
 into friends, not by the terrors of the law, 
 nor by the sword of justice, but by the lov- 
 ing kindness displayed through the cross of 
 Christ. Now if we were not creatures and 
 bound to obey our Sovereign, if we really 
 desired to be most useful to mankind, we 
 would most successfully adopt that method 
 which the wisdom of God has devised, and 
 which he employs in converting sinners to 
 himself, in transforming determined enemies 
 into sincere and cordial friends. JfGod, 
 who is better acquainted with the nature of 
 men than we are, has appointed this method, 
 and uniformily employs the instrumentality 
 of kindness in changing his enemies into 
 friends, we may confidently hope for success 
 on the same plan, and by the same means. 
 
 Why, it may be asked, do we not see and 
 feel more of the blessed and happy effects of 
 these principles of the Christian religion ? 
 One reason is, there are thousands who pro- 
 fess to be Christians, who are not such in 
 reality ; they are, in fact, governed by the 
 principles ofthe world. They have a name 
 that they live, but are dead ; they have 
 17* 
 
198 
 
 the form of godliness, but feel not its renova- 
 ting power. They do not bridle the tongue 
 from backbiting, from slander, from malicious 
 censure and reproach, and therefore their 
 religion is vain ; they do not possess the spirit 
 of Christ, which is a spirit of meekness, for- 
 bearance, forgiveness and charity ; but, es- 
 pecially when provoked, they manifest a 
 spirit of anger, hatred, malice and revenge ; 
 therefore, we are assured they are none of his. 
 It is most unreasonable to look for the eifects 
 of a principle where that principle does not 
 exist. Do men gather grapes off thorns, or figs 
 off thistles? No more are we to expect the 
 happy effects of the Bible from those, who, 
 whatever they may profess, are governed by 
 enmity of heart against the spirituality, the 
 purity, and authority of that holy book. 
 There is another reason, which cannot be 
 mentioned without shame and sorrow; that is, 
 the criminal deficiencies and the negligence 
 of Christians. They sometimes feel a want 
 of entire confidence in the truth of the divine 
 declarations regarding this subject ; they he- 
 sitate whether it would not be better to take 
 the work of vengeance into their own hands. 
 God has promised, indeed, that he will repay; 
 but whether he will do it at the time, and in 
 the manner, and to that degree, which they 
 conceive he ought, is rather doubtful ; and 
 
199 
 
 although they have his solemn promise that 
 he will do justice in the case, yet a secret 
 fear, which they would not profess, and 
 which they would willingly conceal from 
 their own view, lest he should fail, prompts 
 them to undertake it themselves. Hence, 
 although they are Christians, yet through un- 
 belief lurking in the heart, they do not ex- 
 emplify their own principles, which are set 
 aside in the present case, and the spirit and 
 principles of the world, as better calculated 
 to answer the purpose, are adopted. In this 
 state of mind, they feel and reason and act 
 as men of the world would do in similar 
 circumstances. There is sometimes a dis- 
 trust respecting the success of their forbear- 
 ance and kindness in disarming an enemy of 
 his hostile feelings, and awakening in his 
 bosom those of a friendly character. They 
 will allege that his disposition is too harsh 
 and unfeeling, his resentment too implacable, 
 and his hatred too inveterate to be softened 
 by their kindness. Thus the motive which 
 should urge them forward in persevering 
 efforts is weakened through this secret un- 
 belief, and the case is given up as hopeless. 
 Jf the husbandman should suffer his mind to 
 be disquieted with doubts and fears respecting 
 the success of his labours, and therefore de- 
 cline these labours altogether, his doubts 
 
200 
 
 and his conduct would be considered both 
 unreasonable and crinriinal ; not less so arc 
 Christians, who, through groundless fears, ne- 
 glect these pious and benevolent exertions. 
 The mere possibility that their eifbrts may 
 fail, is not an excuse for their declining to 
 make them ; they are faithfully to discharge 
 their duty, and leave the event to God zuho 
 giveth the increase. Christians are charge- 
 able with criminal neglect, in not keeping 
 the heart with all diligoicc^-ai the moment 
 when provocation is oilcred. It is not their 
 intention to suffer any violent anger to agitate 
 their bosom ; but before they are aware, some 
 unhallowed feeling is excited, under the in- 
 fluence of which ihvy speak, not the language 
 of meekness and conciliation, but unguarded- 
 ly. This provokes their aggressor still more; 
 and they are imperceptibly led to a degree 
 of passion, which, instead of recommending, 
 brings a reproach on their profession, and, in 
 moments of cool reflection, becomes to them- 
 selves a source of bitter regret. Good will 
 it be for them, if this regret shall make them 
 more watchful in future ; better far, however, 
 had it been, if by w^atchfulness and prayer 
 they had prevented the cause of this reproach 
 and this regret. All this, however, admit- 
 ted, it does not in the least affect our posi- 
 tion ; that the Bible has a direct and power- 
 
201 
 
 ful tendency, by reforming the heart, to 
 promote the happiness of man; and we do 
 strenuously contend that in all cases this will 
 be the result of its operation. We repeat, 
 that when its principles do not operate, we 
 cannot expect to see their effects. Let Chris- 
 tians guard against the shadow of doubt or 
 distrust respecting the declarations, and 
 cheerfully obey the precepts relating to the 
 duties now under consideration ; by watch- 
 fulness and prayer, especially when provoca- 
 tion is offered, let them prevent the slightest 
 degree of anger ; and they will remove this 
 cause of sorrow and reproach, and support 
 this conclusion by testimony which may bid 
 defiance even to scepticism itself. 
 
 Experiment is the best, indeed, the only 
 way to try the tendency of any system or 
 principle ; that is, to view it in full and com- 
 plete operation ; and we contend that so far 
 as the experiment has been made, on the 
 principles of the Bible, the result does tri- 
 umphantly support our conclusion. Let the 
 experiment be more general, and this proof 
 will be more abundant and more undeniable. 
 The voice of inspiration, if we are not mis- 
 taken in its meaning, justifies the firm belief, 
 that this earth shall not meet its final doom ; 
 that these heavens shall not be rolled to- 
 gether as a scroll, nor pass away with a great 
 
202 
 
 noise, till an experiment shall be made on a 
 more general scale than has ever yet been 
 witnessed ; from which, proof in support of 
 the point for which we contend will be fur- 
 nished, not less convincing than that derived 
 from mathematical demonstration. Cast for- 
 ward the eye of faith and hope to that state 
 of the church and of the world, when the 
 sublime and glowing figures of prophetic vi- 
 sion shall be verified ; when the life-giving 
 power of the gospel shall destroy the wicked 
 and turbulent passions of men, and awaken 
 in the heart supreme, sincere and ardent love 
 to God and man ; when war and bloodshed 
 will no longer desolate the earth ; when an- 
 ger, malice, and resentment shall no longer 
 corrode the breast, nor disturb the harmony 
 of neighbours, of friends, of brethren; when 
 peace and happiness shall bless this poor, 
 miserable, and sinful world in a degree which 
 has never been experienced since Adam was 
 driven out of Paradise. The prophet, after 
 shadowing forth the joyous harmony of that 
 day by the most significant emblems of 
 peace, closes the account with this summary 
 declaration ; They shall not hurt nor destroy 
 in all my holy mountain ; and then, not 
 leaving us to mere conjecture on the subject, 
 points out the cause of all this blessedness ; 
 For the earth shall he full of the knowledge of 
 
203 
 
 the Lord, as the waters cover the sea. The 
 waters of the ocean touch and cover every 
 inch which is below the level of their surface; 
 in like manner, at that time, will every 
 neighbourhood and every family be touched 
 and influenced by the Bible. All the mis- 
 eries under which the world is now groaning, 
 and from which it will then be relieved ; all 
 the peace and happiness which shall then 
 prevail, will be the powerful and genuine 
 elfect of the gospel. That gospel is the 
 same now that it will be then. Not another 
 doctrine, not another precept, not another 
 promise or invitation will be added, as the 
 means of producing these glorious and happy 
 effects. The very doctrines, precepts, and 
 promises with which we are favoured, will 
 be effectual for this purpose. The proof 
 derived from an experiment yet to be made, 
 provided we know with certainty the result 
 of the experiment, is the same with that fur- 
 nished by an experiment actually made. Im- 
 mutable truth, then, declares what will be 
 the result of this grand experiment; that it 
 will fill the earth with friendship, and harmo- 
 ny, and peace, and joy. The effects of the 
 gospel, at that day, and those which it is now, 
 and ever has been producing, differ only in 
 degree, not in kind : of course, it follows, 
 that in proportion to the degree of power 
 
204 
 
 which it exerts on the heart and on the con- 
 duct of men, it is now, and ever has been 
 producing the very same effects ; and that 
 the world is now so much the less miserable 
 and so much the more happy in exact pro- 
 portion to its saving and transforming power. 
 Diminish this power, and you increase the 
 sufferings of this life ; increase this power, 
 and you increase the happiness of man. 
 
205 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 The gospel furnishes support in affliction — Influence of 
 faith, hope and love. 
 
 After all the happy effects which the gos- 
 pel is calculated to produce, and is actually 
 producing, there will be numberless afflic- 
 tions from which the Christian cannot escape; 
 it remains, then, to point out the strong con- 
 solation, the powerful support which the 
 Bible furnishes to him, under the pressure 
 of these sufferings. To mention these afflic- 
 tions in detail is unnecessary, if it were prac- 
 ticable. The Christian is as liable to epide- 
 mical diseases, to losses and disappointments 
 in his property as others are. At least he is 
 liable to them in some degree ; though we 
 are inclined to believe, not quite as much as 
 others ; for we think it probable that a life of 
 intemperance and debauchery will predis- 
 pose the system to disease, more than sobriety 
 and temperance ; and that industry, economy 
 and prudence will guard in some measure, 
 against these losses and disappointments. 
 He is hable to suffer through his friends ; and 
 18 
 
206 
 
 the valley and shadow of death is before 
 him which he cannot escape. Besides all 
 these, he meets with trials which are pecu- 
 liar to the Christian, from the prevalence of 
 sin and temptation in the world. In the 
 midst of all these sufferings the gospel brings 
 him consolation and support which no im- 
 penitent sinner can receive. He is not in- 
 debted to a mere effort of his imagination 
 for this support, it arises from the character 
 which he possesses, from the relation he sus- 
 tains to God and the Saviour, from his faith, 
 his hope, and the devout affections of his 
 heart. These are the means employed by 
 the Father of mercies in bearing up his peo- 
 ple in the midst of their sufferings. Divest 
 the Christian of this character, dissolve this 
 relation, extinguish these affections, and you 
 cut him off from the source of his comfort, 
 and leave him weak and disconsolate as other 
 men. 
 
 View the Christian in the midst of his 
 sufferings, and mark the fortitude with which 
 he endures the most exquisite pain, and the 
 patience and meek submission with which 
 he resigns himself to the will of his heavenly 
 Father. His support is not the sullen, re- 
 bellious insensibility of the stoic; he feels 
 and acknowledges the pain which he suffers. 
 He is not so absurd as to deny the difference 
 
207 
 
 between pleasure and pain ; nor so impious 
 as to deny that the hand of God can afflict 
 hinn. Under every kind and degree of suf- 
 fering his faith brings him real and substan- 
 tial support. This, from the constitution of 
 the human mind, and from the nature of this 
 faith, will be the result of its exercise. If, 
 during the pressure of affliction, the mind 
 dwells chiefly on the pain and distress which 
 are felt ; on the pleasures which he once en- 
 joyed, and of which he is now deprived ; on 
 the freedom from pain and the peaceful en- 
 joyment of others ; and above all, if he can 
 see no good purpose to be answered by his 
 sufferings ; the mind will become dispirited 
 and faint, and the pressure of affliction will 
 become heavier and less tolerable; every re- 
 collection of the past, every view of present 
 circumstances and future prospects increases 
 the gloom and despondency under which he 
 is sinking. The Christian is not left comfort- 
 less in his affliction. His faith furnishes him 
 with materials of thought so deeply interest- 
 ing and so pleasing as to draw off his atten- 
 tion from the present affliction, and fix it 
 chiefly on objects which prevent despond- 
 ency, and strengthen, animate, cheer and 
 support the mind. He believes most firmly 
 that his afflictions, heavy and complicated as 
 they may be, come not forth of the dust^ nei- 
 
208 
 
 iher doth his irouhle^ spring out of the ground ; 
 that his afflictions are not the result of acci- 
 dent or of chance, but sent by his heavenly 
 Father to work for his good ; that the time, 
 the degree, and all other circumstances re- 
 lating to them are determined and regulated 
 by infinite wisdom and goodness ; that they 
 are intended to deliver him from the power 
 of remaining sin, detach him more effectually 
 from this world which is delusive, ensnaring 
 and dangerous ; to increase his confidence in 
 God, and render more precious to his heart 
 the Saviour, and that gospel which exhibits 
 the Saviour, to increase his holiness, and 
 thus qualify him in a greater degree for the 
 joy of his Lord, for the inheritance of the 
 saints in light. While, therefore, he believes 
 that these afflictions are working out for him 
 a far more exceeding and eternal weight of 
 glory than he should ever attain without them, 
 he does not faint when rebuked of his Father. 
 Nor does he exhibit that sullen submission 
 arising from mere necessity, because he can 
 neither escape nor remove his afflictions ; 
 but resigning himself cheerfully and volun- 
 tarily to the will of his God who, he believes, 
 does not afflict zcillingly. His patience pre- 
 serves him from murmuring, npinin^ and 
 fretfulness ; and he prefers his affliction to 
 any other state, not that it is for the present 
 
209 
 
 joyous, but grievous ; but because it flows 
 from the love and affection of his Friend in 
 heaven, and on account of its tendency to 
 improve his moral character, and thus to fit 
 him for higher degrees of glory and greater 
 measures of happiness during his eternal ex- 
 istence. He feels, in some degree, the spirit, 
 and may use the language of his Saviour : 
 O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup puss 
 from me! nevertheless, not as I will, but as 
 thou wilt. O my Father, if this cup may not 
 pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will 
 be done. 
 
 This is the only way in which the mind 
 can be supported under suffering, or com- 
 forted under sorrow ; that is, by drawing off 
 the thoughts, as much as possible, from the 
 pain which is felt, and fixing them strongly 
 on other objects, which make such impres- 
 sions on the mind as enable it to bear its 
 sufferings with fortitude. This is the theory 
 according to which the Christian's faith 
 comforts and supports him in the hour of 
 distress. / had fainted, said the Psalmist, 
 unless I had believed to see the goodness of 
 the Lord in the land of the living. Hence, 
 the exhortation which he offers is the result 
 of his own experience : Wait on the Lord : be 
 of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine 
 heart : wait, I say, on the Lord. When Paul, 
 18* 
 
210 
 
 after the fatigues of a perilous voyage, saw 
 the brethren come from Rome to meet him, 
 he thanked GoeU cind took courage. The 
 sight, and friendly gratulation of these bre- 
 thren, furnished a new and pleasing train of 
 thought ; these thoughts gave a new spring 
 to his mind, and prepared him with forti- 
 tude to bear the present and meet the fu- 
 ture trials of his life. 
 
 There is a principle belonging to the hu- 
 man mind, called the princi[)le of association. 
 One event, or one object, brings to our re- 
 collection and to our thoughts another, with 
 which it is in some wny or olher connected. 
 It was on this principle, that the presence o( 
 these brethren reanimated the apostle's mind 
 with fresh courage. Their presence awoke 
 in his mind a flow of thought, which made 
 him forget the perils of his past life, and 
 enabled him to meet, with unyielding firm- 
 ness, the trials which awaited him in future. 
 Here are the disciples of that Saviour in 
 whose cause he was engaged, to whom he 
 was under infinite obligations, for whom he 
 had suffered much, and was willing to sufifer 
 the loss of all things ; here are those who 
 will sympathise with him, and pray for him, 
 and comfort him ; here are the fruits of that 
 gospel of which he was not ashamed, and 
 which he was ready to preach at Rome also. 
 
211 
 
 Faith would naturally carry his thoughts 
 away from this world, and elevate them to 
 heaven, to dwell on all that is cheering and 
 invigorating there; on his Intercessor and 
 Advocate with the Father; on the multi- 
 tudes already redeemed from this earth, and 
 now surrounding the throne of God ; on that 
 crown of glory, which the Lord, the right- 
 eous Judge, shall give him at the last day. 
 With those thoughts his soul grew warm, as 
 the word (tharsos) signifies. Thus he was 
 comforted together with them, by the mutual 
 faith both of them and him. According to 
 the same principle, when he came into 
 Macedonia, he was pressed with troubles 
 from every side ; loithout, zvere fightings, 
 zoithin, were fears: Nevertheless, God, he ob- 
 serves, who comforteth those who are cast 
 down, comforted us by the coming of Titus. 
 On this principle it is, that faith supports 
 the Christian. Affliction is strongly asso- 
 ciated in his mind with other subjects, which 
 of course it brings to his recollection and his 
 thoughts. He is reminded of his sins, on 
 account of which it is sent, and from which 
 it is intended to deliver him. The goodness 
 of God, who directs this affliction for this 
 important purpose, is brought with pleasure 
 and with invigorating power to his thoughts. 
 The sufiferings of the present state forcibly 
 
212 
 
 impress upon his mind the insufficiency of 
 this world, as a portion for the soul, and re- 
 mind him of that better country, of that rest 
 which remains for the people of God, and in- 
 crease his desire to depart and be with Christ 
 which is far better. Yet this desire is united 
 with the spirit of meek submission, which 
 enables him to say ; all the days of my ap- 
 pointed time zoill I wait till my change come. 
 
 Hope is another ground of support, and 
 source of consolation to the Christian, under 
 all the trials and distresses of this life. 
 This is not a simple airection, but seems to 
 be compounded of desire and expectation. 
 Desire implies that there is something in its 
 object, the possession of which will con- 
 tribute to our happiness; expectation im- 
 plies that there are reasons for believing that 
 we shall possess this object. The object of 
 hope is always future; it will, of course, 
 continually carry the mind away from all 
 that is past, and all that is present, to some- 
 thing still before us. This object will, there- 
 fore, give the most pleasing, the most ani- 
 mating employment to our thoughts. It is 
 the nature of all affections, to bring their 
 objects frequently to our thoughts. If the 
 object of these affections be good, then this 
 employment of our thoughts will be pleasing 
 and dehghtful. Now, the object of hope is 
 
213 
 
 always something good ; for it is an object 
 of desire. The frequency, the interest, and 
 the pleasure, with which it will occupy the 
 nnind, will be in proportion to the degree of 
 happiness expected from its possession. If 
 that view of the object which excites our 
 desire be erroneous, if we suppose it to pos- 
 sess qualities, which it really does not ; or if 
 those reasons which support our expectation 
 be fallacious and groundless ; then, sooner 
 or later, our hope, however pleasing it may 
 have been, must end in the bitterness of dis- 
 appointment. But if our views of the object 
 be true, if it really possesses the qualities 
 which we suppose it does ; and if the reasons 
 on which our expectation is founded be sub- 
 stantial ; then, our hope will he joy and glad- 
 ness ^ the possession of this object, and the 
 increase of our happiness, are certain. Such 
 is the nature of hope in general, whether its 
 object be temporal or eternal, whether it 
 belongs to this world or to the world of 
 spirits. 
 
 Now, it is obvious, that all that is interest- 
 ing in this analysis is embraced in the Chris- 
 tian's hope. God himself, with all his infinite 
 perfections, is the object of this hope. The 
 Lord will be the hope of Israel : Blessed is 
 the man whose hope the Lord is. Christ, the 
 divine Redeemer, is the object of it : The 
 
214 
 
 Lord Jesus Christy which is our hope. All 
 that is expressed by the terms eternal life, is 
 embraced by this hope : in hope of eternal 
 life which God hath promised. All, therefore, 
 that is majestic, and sublime, and venerable, 
 and gracious, and merciful, and lovely in the 
 Triune Jehovah ; all that is joyful, and glo- 
 rious, and eternal in the happiness of heaven, 
 is included in the object of this hope. That 
 view of these objects, or that knowledge 
 which excites the Christian's desire, cannot be 
 erroneous ; for it is the truth of God himself. 
 Those reasons on which his expectation is 
 founded cannot deceive him ; for they are 
 the declarations, the promises of immutable 
 veracity ; together with that degree of holi- 
 ness, or fitness for the enjoyment of these 
 objects, which he has already acquired. 
 These are the reasons which he is ready to 
 give for the hope that is in him. This hope, 
 from its very nature, has a powerful tendency 
 to promote this holiness, to increase this fit- 
 ness, and thus to strengthen the foundation 
 on which it is built. For every man that 
 hath this hope in him, purifeth himself even 
 as he, who is the object of it, is pure. This 
 shows the connection which hope has with 
 faith; a connection similar to that of the effect 
 with the cause, or the germ and the stalk 
 with the seed and the root. The true cha- 
 
 
215 
 
 racter of God, and the nature of heaven are 
 made known in his word ; it is therefore the 
 knowledge and behef of this word which ex- 
 cite that desire which is an essential part of 
 hope. This same truth sanctifies the heart, 
 and contains the promises which support ex- 
 pectation ; the other essential part of hope. 
 Hence faith is the substance of things hoped 
 for, because it is, the evidence oj things not 
 seen. He that would blast this hope, must 
 divest Jehovah of his character; he that 
 would shake its foundation, must shake the 
 truth of heaven itself. The Christian, there- 
 fore, cannot have faith without hope, nor 
 hope without faith. If he has the support of 
 faith, he has also the rejoicing of hope. 
 
 This hope is, at all times, and under all 
 circumstances, interesting to the Christian. 
 When surrounded by the smiles of worldly 
 prosperity, these smiles are rendered more 
 cheering by the presence of this hope. But 
 when the sun of prosperity is clouded from 
 his view ; when trials perplex him ; when 
 distress invades him ; when the weight of af- 
 fliction presses heavily upon him ; when 
 every rivulet of earthly comfort is drying up ; 
 then is this hope peculiarly interesting; then 
 does he realise the truth of the remark that 
 " hope is the balm of life ;" then is this hope 
 as an anchor to the soul, both sure and stead- 
 
216 
 
 fast^ because it eniereth into that within the 
 vail ; or, " because fixed into the place with- 
 in the vail ; that is, into heaven, whither he 
 shall be drawn, by this anchor, as ships are 
 drawn to the place where their anchors are 
 fixed." From the dark gloom with which he 
 is surrounded not one cheering ray of light 
 breaks on his mind. His present circum- 
 stances, viewed only in the light which this 
 world can shed on them, suggest none but 
 ideas calculated to depress and overwhelm 
 the mind. The light of faith strengthens and 
 animates him, by showing the connection be- 
 tween these afflictions and his own salvation, 
 and the loving kindness and goodness of his 
 Father. Hope pours her cordial into his 
 bosom, and revives his spirit with the light 
 of life. Hope at all times leads the mind 
 awa)' from the past and the present to things 
 that are future ; and never does the mind 
 stretch forward with more intense eagerness 
 than from those scenes where all is dark and 
 comfortless, and discouraging. The objects 
 of hope are always pleasing and welcome to 
 the thoughts ; never more so than now, when 
 every thought from the world is afflictive and 
 dispiriting. His body remains on earth, ex- 
 posed to suffering; but his thoughts are em- 
 ployed about the objects of hope ; and the 
 more he thinks of them, the more desirable 
 
217 
 
 and the more conrjoling do they become. 
 The foundation of this hope is considered, 
 its firmness is tried ; and the more closely it 
 is examined, the more solid and immoveable 
 does it appear. While his thoughts are thus 
 employed, his soul is warmed and invigorated 
 viMth a glow of pious and devout feehng, 
 which, though it may not remove,yet lightens 
 the pressure of affliction. The inconve- 
 niences of life, the sufferings and pains of the 
 body afflict and depress the mind just in pro- 
 portion as they fix the attention and employ 
 the thoughts ; just in proportion, therefore, 
 as other objects of a pleasing nature occupy 
 the attention, they will bring comfort and 
 support to the mind. How strong, then, is 
 the consolation which hope brings to the 
 Christian under all the nameless evils and 
 sufferings of this life ! No suffering can draw 
 his thoughts away from spiritual objects ; of 
 these he will think, on account of these suf- 
 ferings, with more intense application, and 
 derive from them more consolation and sup- 
 port. He is, therefore, saved by hope ; saved 
 from murmuring, impatience, and despond- 
 ency. With all the full assurance of hope 
 he anticipates the last hour of his conflict and 
 his sufferings, and his entrance into the joy 
 of his Lord. Compared with this joy, his 
 are light afflictions ; compared with its eter- 
 19 
 
218 
 
 nal duration, they endure but for a moment. 
 The hope which brightens the darkest scenes 
 with the cheering light of heaven, which an- 
 innates and supports him through the trials of 
 life, and enables him to triumph in the hour 
 of death, must be a good hope. 
 
 Love is another aflection, from which the 
 human mind derives no little enjoyment. It 
 is called into exercise by the view of some- 
 thing iiood, the possession of which would 
 contribute to our happiness. It also presents 
 its object to our thoughts with a frequency 
 and a pleasing interest in proportion to the 
 amiable qualities by which it is excited, and 
 the degree of happiness expected from pos- 
 session. From the frequency with which its 
 object engages our thoughts, this affection 
 exerts a transforming influence on the mind. 
 This is especially the case when its objects 
 are of our own species. This affection in- 
 clines us to construe their whole deportment 
 in the most favourable light. It renders us 
 blind to their defects and their blemishes, and 
 generally suggests an excuse for their faults. 
 It magnifies their virtues, and very much en- 
 hances the value of the favours they confer 
 on us. Their presence, their conversation, 
 imparts to the mind a pleasing elasticity, and 
 awakens an exhilarating glow of feeling 
 which is one of the purest earthly joys. When 
 
219 
 
 they are absent, past interviews are called 
 up with the fondest recollection, and future 
 meetings are anticipated with all the joyous 
 ardour of hope. We find a pleasure in act- 
 ing according to their desires, and are ready, 
 with cheerfulness, to make any sacrifice of 
 our own convenience or comfort to promote 
 their happiness. We are delighted to hear 
 their praise from others, and the slightest re- 
 proach on their character gives us pain. We 
 are disposed to adopt their sentiments, and 
 imitate their examples ; and thus we are very 
 much under their influence, and our happi- 
 ness and respectability are, in no small de- 
 gree, placed in their power. If those whom 
 we love are truly virtuous and worthy, our 
 affection for them will raise us in the estima- 
 tion of the good and the wise, and contribute 
 very much to our happiness in life. But if 
 they are unworthy and vicious, our affections 
 will sink us with them to misery and disgrace* 
 Such are the effects of love ; and it is better 
 defined by its effects than by any other me- 
 thod. 
 
 When this affection is directed to God and 
 the Saviour, its tendency to contribute to 
 our happiness and especially to support us 
 under affliction, must be obvious to every 
 one. It is excited by a view of the moral 
 perfections of the divine character; and the 
 
220 
 
 more accurate and the more extensive our 
 views of these perfections arc, the more ar- 
 dent, sincere, and delightful will this affection 
 be. These perfections are displayed in the 
 work of creation and providence, but chiefly 
 in the cross of Christ, and in the salvation of 
 sinners. Hence we see the connection of this 
 love with faith, by which we behold these 
 glories, revealed in the gospel. The moment 
 we are united to Christ by faith, that mo- 
 ment we have such a view of the infinite 
 goodness and mercy of God as kindles this 
 devout and heavenly affection in our hearts. 
 As our faith increases, our love wmH increase 
 with it. fVe love hhn, because he first loved 
 us ; and this is the manifestation of his love 
 towards us, that he sent his only begotten son 
 into the worlds that we might live through 
 him. 
 
 Consider the direct and powerful effect 
 which this love will have in supporting and 
 comforting the Christian under all the losses 
 and disappointments and sorrows of this life. 
 Is he disappointed in his expectations, and 
 deprived of worldly enjoyments ? Love will 
 interpret these dispensations of providence 
 as blessings, because they are part of the de- 
 signs and works of God. Is he perplexed 
 and annoyed with temptations? This is to 
 try his faith, and prove the sincerity of his 
 
/ 
 
 221 
 
 tattachment to the Saviour and his cross. Is 
 he brought down by sickness? This, though, 
 for the present not joyous, but grievous, is 
 understood as an evidence of fatherly kind- 
 ness and attention ; for ivhom the Lord loveth 
 he chasteneth^ and scoiirgeth every son whom 
 Jie receiveth. h he called to weep at the 
 grave of his pious friends ? They are taken 
 away from the evil to come j they are with 
 Christ, which is far better than to remain 
 here. Is he at length called to enter the 
 valley and shadow of death 1 He will fear 
 no evil ^ for that God and Saviour whom he 
 loves will be with him ', it is the termination 
 of his conflicts and his sorrows ; to die is gain. 
 Every duty is sweetened ; every gloomy, 
 desponding thought is met and repelled ; 
 every difficulty and trial is surmounted; every 
 affliction is lightened, and even welcomed ; 
 and death itself is stripped of all its terror, 
 and changed into an angel of mercy, by love. 
 This heaven-born affection cheers and sup- 
 ports him through every scene of life, dispels 
 the darkness from the tomb, and sheds its 
 brightest and mildest splendours over all the 
 realities of eternity. 
 
 Such is the support and consolation which 
 the Bible affords the Christian, under those 
 afflictions from which he cannot escape ; 
 and such is the manner in which this sup- 
 ID"^ 
 
222 
 
 port is derived, and in which the nnind is 
 sustained and comforted. Hope and love 
 are excited by objects most worthy of these 
 affections, and most powerfully calculated to 
 call them forth. These affections fill the 
 mind with a cheerful glow of approbation of 
 the character of God, and the dispensations 
 of his providence, under which these suffer- 
 ings occur. Hope and love, together with 
 that faith from which they spring, and with 
 which they are inseparably connected, are 
 the means by which a gracious God pre- 
 serves his people from despair, fills them 
 with comfort, and not unfrequently renders 
 them exceeding joyful in all their tribulation. 
 Numerous facts, derived from the history 
 of the human mind, might be adduced to 
 confirm and illustrate this theory. This is 
 the method adopted by the captive Indian, 
 who knows nothing of Christ or of his gos- 
 pel, when bound to the stake, and doomed 
 to expire under all the protracted tortures 
 which the ingenuity of his enemies can in- 
 flict. He cannot render himself insensible; 
 when the flesh and the sinews are torn by 
 inches from the bone, he must feel the most 
 exquisite pain. He does not leave his mind 
 entirely vacant, to resist his sufferings by 
 simple efforts of volition ; but by a strong 
 effort of thought, he remembers the heroism 
 
 i 
 
223 
 
 and renown of his ancestors, and feels, that 
 it now depends on him to maintain, and 
 transmit to posterity, the invincible firmness 
 and characteristic bravery of his nation, and 
 particularly of his own family. These are 
 the thoughts which fortify his mind ; and 
 these are the reasons, on account of which, 
 he defies his enemies, mocks their imbecility, 
 suffers and dies without gratifying them with 
 a single complaint or a single groan. 
 
 When the general of an army observes 
 his soldiers advancing with trembling and 
 hesitating steps, dispirited and timid, without 
 the animating influence of hope, influenced 
 by secret apprehensions of the result, shrink- 
 ing from the contest ; he adopts this method 
 to cheer their spirits and invigorate their 
 minds with courage. In his harangue, if he 
 cannot deny the facts, and disprove the re- 
 ports which have chilled their minds, he la- 
 bours to divert their thoughts, as much as 
 possible, from these discouraging topics, and 
 fix them on objects pleasing and animating 
 in their nature. His knowledge of the hu- 
 man mind will be displayed by the fitness 
 and tendency of his remarks, to answer this 
 special purpose. If he can gain the direc- 
 tion of their thoughts, he will succeed ; he 
 will inspire them with the cheering hope of 
 victory, and with courage and resolution for 
 
224 
 
 the contest. But if he cannot gain this di- 
 rection ; if he cannot break the association 
 of their thoughts, with the gloomy subjects 
 which intimidate and depress their spirits, 
 his effort is vain, his labour is lost. Pru- 
 dence will suggest to him the policy of de- 
 clining the contest with soldiers already 
 vanquished in their own apprehension. 
 
 This is the true theory of persuasion, and 
 shows the powerful and astonishing eflects 
 of eloquence on (he mind. To persuade, is 
 to present considerations calculated to se- 
 cure the performance of a particular act, or 
 the pursuit of a certain course of conduct. 
 Passions are the great motives to action ; 
 these can be excited, only by fixing the 
 thoughts on objects calculated to produce 
 this etlect. Persuasion implies that there is 
 more or less aversion to the action or the 
 course proposed ; this, again, implies an asso- 
 ciation of thought with objects which feed this 
 aversion. This association is to be dissolved, 
 and this aversion is to be overcome. Other 
 objects are to be presented to the mind, which 
 will give such a direction to the thoughts, 
 and awaken such passions as accord with the 
 ultimate design. This task will try the 
 power, and skill, and art of the orator. 
 With this view, he will delight the fancy 
 with the beauty of his images, and the bril- 
 
I 
 
 225 
 
 liancy of the dress in which he clothes his 
 ideas. He will impart to the most trite and 
 common subjects, all the charms of novelty ; 
 and interest his hearers by his action, by the 
 expression of his countenance, and by the 
 modulation of his voice. He will prepossess 
 his hearers in his favour, by modesty and 
 tenderness, or astonish them with boldness 
 and energy, just as the progress of feeling 
 seems to require. If he gives pleasure and 
 delight, it is not because this is his ultimate 
 object, but that he may dissolve those asso- 
 ciations of thought, and efface those feelings 
 which are unfriendly to his purpose ; that he 
 may open an easy and direct access to the 
 understanding, and gain a complete control 
 over the thoughts. This accomplished, his 
 point is gained ; he can then touch those 
 chords of the heart which will vibrate in 
 perfect unison with his design. 
 
 If you wish to comfort a friend in distress, 
 this is the method you adopt. You present 
 the cause of grief in some new light, or in- 
 troduce subjects which have but little con- 
 nection with this cause, in order to divert 
 the thoughts into a different channel. If 
 you can succeed in this attempt, your pur- 
 pose will, in some degree, be answered, your 
 friend, by this diversion of thought, will be 
 relieved from the pressure of his sorrow ; 
 
226 
 
 but if not, you leave your friend as you found 
 him, with mournful pleasure brooding on 
 those subjects which feed his grief, and waste 
 the vigour of his mind. No case, calling for 
 the kind offices of your friendship, requires 
 a more accurate knowledge of the human 
 mind, and the manner in which it is influ- 
 enced, than this. You can easily admonish 
 your friend not to grieve ; but you might as 
 well admonish the wind not to blow, or the 
 waves of the ocean not to roll, unless you 
 furnish the mind with some antidote to sor- 
 row. The propriety of your remarks will 
 depend on your knowledge of the thoughts 
 and feelings of your friend; without this 
 knowledge, your attempt may not only be 
 useless, but even injurious ; it may increase 
 the distress which it was intended to assuage. 
 Guided, however, by this knowledge, if the 
 mind of your friend will admit of comfort, 
 you may leave him with the pleasing reflec- 
 tion, that you have been instrumental in dis- 
 pelling the gloom from his thoughts, and 
 lightening the burden of his heart. 
 
 Such is the method according to which 
 the Lord is pleased to comfort and support 
 his people. The subject is thus divested of 
 that mystery, with which in the view, even 
 of some Christians, it is too often surround- 
 ed. They seem to possess a vague idea that 
 
227 
 
 divine power will support them, independ- 
 ently of the exercise of their own minds. 
 This opinion is as unscriptural as it is un- 
 philosophical. They might as well expect 
 that the preserver of men would support the 
 body without daily bread, as that he will 
 support the mind in distress, without the ex- 
 ercise of faith, and hope, and love, and other 
 devout affections of the heart. Divine power, 
 employed in this way, and for this purpose, 
 would be miraculous; as was the power 
 which preserved the three children in the 
 fiery furnace. If there is a single passage 
 of scripture, which seems to justify this 
 opinion, it is because that passage is not 
 correctly understood, or is perverted. My 
 grace is sufficient for thee^ is a precious pro- 
 mise, which has borne up, as it did Paul, 
 many a Christian through scenes of the 
 deepest affliction, and enabled him to take 
 pleasure in injirmiiies^ in reproaches^ in neces- 
 sities^ in persecutions^ in distresses for ChrisVs 
 sake. Now, if any should content themselves 
 with a vague impression that grace is a dis- 
 tinct perfection or attribute of the divine 
 character ; and that this supposed perfection 
 will be exerted in some mysterious aad mi- 
 raculous way for their support, they will, 
 through their ignorance of the promise, de- 
 prive themselves of all the consolation which 
 it was intended to afford. But if by grace 
 
228 
 
 they understand unmerited favour, they will 
 receive the truth, that God will support 
 them, will measure his kindness to them, 
 not according to what they deserve for their 
 sins, but according to his own good pleasure 
 and sovereign mercy. Faith, and hope, and 
 love, are the work and the gift of God. If 
 he supports and comforts the Christian by 
 means of the exercises of his own mind, it 
 is as certainly his work, and his favour, as if 
 the same effects were produced by imme- 
 diate and direct agency. No man, there- 
 fore, let his profession be what it may, let 
 the exercise of his mind be what it may, 
 who is not a sound Bible Christian, can en- 
 joy that support and consolation which God 
 bestows on his chosen people ; and no man, 
 who is such a Christian, can, in proportion 
 to his faith, be without this support. If 
 Christians would read and study the Bible 
 with more frequency, and with more prayer- 
 ful attention, their knowledge would be more 
 extensive, and more accurate ; their faith 
 would be stronger, and more practical ; their 
 hope would be firmer ; their love would be 
 more ardent and sincere ; their life would be 
 more useful to the church, and to the world; 
 their support under afflictions would be more 
 abundant ; and their joy and their glory, 
 throughout their eternal existence, would be 
 greater. 
 
229 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 The religion of the Bible, the true happiness of man. 
 
 The most accurate analysis of human hap- 
 piness will confirm the truth of the Bible; 
 and particularly of this declaration ; godli- 
 ness is profitable unto all things^ having pro- 
 mise of the life that now is^ and of that 
 which is to come. This happiness is not sim- 
 ple in its nature, but very complex ; depend- 
 ing on a variety of circumstances, and derived 
 from a great variety of sources. Pleasure is 
 either animal, or intellectual, or moral, or 
 spiritual. These are distinct sources of en- 
 joyment, which rise above each other in 
 importance and refinement, in the order in 
 which they are here stated. Of these, ani- 
 mal pleasures are the lowest; these we enjoy 
 in common with the brutes. They arise 
 from the conveniencies of life, and from the 
 gratification of those propensities and appe- 
 tites which are peculiar to animal nature. 
 Intellectual pleasure is derived from the ex- 
 ercise and improvement of the mind in the 
 acquisition of knowledge, in the cultivation 
 20 
 
230 
 
 of arts and science. Here man leaves the 
 level of the brutes, and is elevated to a sphere 
 of enjoyment to which they can never rise. 
 Moral pleasure is derived from the exercise 
 of the moral virtues; truth, justice, honesty, 
 <Sz;c. ; and from the social atfections ; benevo- 
 lence, sympathy, friendship, generosity, &;c. ; 
 and from those affections which grow out of 
 the conjugal, parental, filial and fraternal 
 relations. Spiritual pleasure arises from the 
 knowledge and belief of the Bible ; and from 
 those pious affections which the Bible, 
 through the agency of the Holy Spirit, ex- 
 cites in the heart; meekness, humility, love, 
 hope, gratitude, &c. This last is peculiarto the 
 Christian. The others, animal, intellectual, 
 and moral,may be enjoyed by those who never 
 do, and never can taste those joys which 
 are purely evangelical and spiritual. The 
 Christian has (ree access to those three sub- 
 ordinate sourc<;s of pleasure, from which the 
 men of the world derive the whole amount 
 of their Ijappiness ; while at the same time, 
 he has access to another source of enjoyment 
 better than either of these, suited to the na- 
 ture of man, less liable to be interrupted, and 
 more refined, from which they are cut off 
 by their unbelief. It is not, however, doing 
 justice to the Christian to represent him as 
 merely on an equality with the men of the 
 
231 
 
 world respecting the pleasure derived from 
 these inferior sources : the point we con- 
 ceive, is capable, not of mathematical de- 
 monstration, indeed, but of illustration and 
 proof, satisfactory to every candid mind, 
 that he enjoys a greater degree of happiness 
 from these sources than other men do, or 
 than he would do if he did not possess the 
 Christian character. The truth of this posi- 
 tion, as it relates to animal pleasure, will, no 
 doubt, appear the most questionable. On 
 this subject a few remarks will, therefore, be 
 offered. 
 
 We must suppose the Christian, in all 
 other respects, to be equal to those with 
 whom he is compared ; he is to possess the 
 same wealth with them, or they are to be 
 surrounded with the same indigence and 
 want with him ; they are to enjoy the same 
 degree of health, or suffer the same affliction. 
 Besides, in speaking of human happiness, our 
 view must not be confined to a single day, 
 or an hour ; but the whole period of life must 
 be included. Temporary pain is often en- 
 dured for the sake of future and lasting good; 
 and temporary pleasure is often productive 
 of long protracted pain. Those temporary 
 pains which prolong the period of life, in- 
 crease, of course, the amount of happiness ; 
 and those pleasures which shorten this period, 
 
232 
 
 of course, diminish this amount. It must be 
 remembered also that religion does not 
 change the natural appetites, belonging to 
 man. Because the Christian loves and obeys 
 God, his taste is not, therefore, blunted or 
 destroyed. He will of course, derive as 
 much pleasure from this source as they can. 
 He is permitted to enjoy all the good things 
 of this world, within the bounds of modera- 
 tion ; which bounds are laid down in the 
 Bible. All beyond these limits is inconsist- 
 ent with happiness, and is therefore prohibit- 
 ed. On this part of the subject, we refer to 
 remarks already offered respecting intemper- 
 ance^ which is, in the enjoyment of sensual 
 pleasure, the transgression of these bounds. 
 There are, however, not a few men of the 
 world who are temperate in all these plea- 
 sures : has the Christian any advantage over 
 these ? 
 
 If you should receive from a highly re- 
 spected and beloved friend, something, sup- 
 pose of no great value in itself, but as the 
 evidence and pledge of your mutual friend- 
 ship, and as the memorial of his affection for 
 you ; would not this circumstance very much 
 enhance its value, in your estimation? 
 Would not the possession and enjoyment o/ 
 this article give you much greater pleasure 
 than if you had accidentally found it, or ever; 
 
^233 
 
 obtained it bj your exertions? If obtained 
 by your own exertions, its intrinsic value 
 would have been precisely the same ; but the 
 pleasure you derive from it is not propor- 
 tioned to this abstract value, but chiefly to 
 that friendship and atfection, of which it 
 is the evidence and the memorial. Now 
 this, in a degree, however, much more in- 
 teresting, is the circumstance under which 
 the Christian enjoys the blessings of this 
 world. He feels and he acknowledges that 
 he is a sinner ; and of course that he does not 
 deserve these blessings. He acknowledges 
 also that they are unmerited favours, bestow- 
 ed on him by his heavenly Father. He re- 
 ceives them as evidences of the love, the 
 mercy, the forbearance, the compassion of 
 God towards him. They remind him of this 
 love and this mercy ; hence they awaken 
 his gratitude and love to God, the giver of 
 tvery good and perfect gift. He does not 
 receive them as accidentally thrown in his 
 way, or as the result of his own exertions ; 
 though these exertions may have been used 
 for this purpose ; but as sent to him, on the 
 tide of Providence according to the special 
 design of infinite wisdom. The daily bread 
 which nourishes him ; the clothing which 
 protects him ; that health, which is the basis 
 of all earthly happiness, will be enjoyed, not 
 20* 
 
234 
 
 merely with that pleasure which arises from 
 the gratification of appetite, but with a zest 
 of delightful feeling, with a glow of gratitude 
 and love, called forth by the reception of 
 these blessings. " This bread," he will say, 
 " is a gift from my heavenly Father ; is a 
 proof that he still loves me, the evidence 
 that, unworthy as I am, he still loves me." 
 He cannot, therefore, receive it as a mere 
 animal gratification, but with the additional 
 pleasure which this circumstance imparts to 
 it. Now, although it is a fact, that these 
 favours are bestowed on the men of the 
 world, by the same kind Providence, yet 
 they do not acknowledge the fact ; they re- 
 ceive the gift, but forget the benefactor. 
 To their own exertions, and to the operation 
 of second causes, they refer their enjoyments; 
 of course, there is no object of gratitude and 
 love presented to their mind; their thoughts 
 are led no farther than to themselves, and to 
 the agency of natural causes: nothing meets 
 their view calculated to excite these affec- 
 tions ; the whole amount, therefore, of plea- 
 sure which they can taste, is sensual, derived 
 from the gratification of appetite ; the plea- 
 sure of the mere animal man. This the 
 Christian enjoys in a degree equal with them; 
 and has, in addition to this, the refined plea- 
 sure derived from a devout and grateful heart. 
 
235 
 
 Hence the declaration of the apostle ; every 
 creature of God is good, and nothing to be re- 
 fused, emphatically good, if it be received 
 
 with THANKSGIVING. 
 
 Remarks already offered, and to which 
 we refer, are intended to show that the 
 Christian enjoys a greater degree of intel- 
 lectual pleasure than others. We also refer 
 to some of the preceding observations as 
 proof that he enjoys a greater degree than 
 others, of that pleasure which we call moral, 
 to distinguish it from that which is pious and 
 spiritual. All the moral virtues, and all the 
 friendly and social affections, are required of 
 the Christian, by motives much more forcible 
 than those which operate on the minds of 
 men who are alienated from God, 
 
 In this investigation, the medical effects of 
 our passions and affections are too obvious 
 and too important to be omitted. 
 
 Physicians of the present day generally 
 ascribe the primary changes produced by the 
 passions, to their influence upon the nervous 
 power or grand principle of vitality, by vvhich 
 animated bodies are rendered susceptible of 
 an infinite variety of impressions. In con- 
 sequence of this influence, either the system 
 in general, or some particular organ, is made 
 to deviate from the exercise of those func- 
 tions, on which health depends ; or is restor- 
 
236 
 
 ed to its pristine office, after such deviations 
 have taken place. Some of these passions, 
 such as anger, wrath, resentment, &c. pro- 
 duce their effect by exciting to some ex- 
 cess through the power of their stimulus ; 
 others, such as fear, sorrow, &c. by inducing 
 a temporary torpor and depression, disturb 
 the animal functions ; in the one case, by 
 driving them into irregular haste by violent 
 irritation ; in the other, from their opposite 
 effects, by causing them to move too slowly. 
 These irregularities cannot fail to render the 
 system more liable to disease, and have a 
 tendency to shorten the period of life. 
 Other affections, such as love, hope, grati- 
 tude, benevolence. Sic. impart to the mind a 
 cheerful though placid state of feeling, which 
 produces a pleasing and salutary flow of the 
 animal spirits, which has a tendency to pre- 
 serve the health and prolong the life. It is 
 worthy of remark, that those passions which 
 have the most pernicious effect on our cor- 
 poreal system, are those most frequently 
 and clearly prohibited in scripture ; and 
 those which we are required to cherish, are 
 those which have the most salutary influence 
 on human life, and, of course, on human 
 happiness. 
 
 But although these effects are perceivable 
 in a state of health, they are much more so 
 
237 
 
 in a state of sickness and debility: On this 
 subject, that eminent physician, the late Dr. 
 Rush, has given a proof of his wisdom, and 
 accurate knowledge of the salutary or dan- 
 gerous effects which the feelings and opera- 
 tions of the mind will have on the body. 
 All who have read his Essays will remem- 
 ber the " Eagle's nest." When the system 
 is enervated, and especially when apprehen- 
 sions of death are increasing, physicians, 
 aware of the effect resulting from the least 
 agitation or excitement, endeavour to keep 
 the patient as quiet as possible ; and this 
 reason is sometimes alleged for discouraging 
 religious exercises. If the patient has pre- 
 viously been accustomed to the devout exer- 
 cises of the heart, this caution is unnecessary; 
 such exercises will not injure him, but will 
 most probably have a cheering effect on his 
 spirits, and a salutary effect on the state of 
 his health ; if he has neglected the one thing 
 needful^ and has lived without God in the 
 worlds then by what means is he to be quieted? 
 Can he suspend the exercise of thought? If 
 not, can he confine his thoughts exclusively to 
 the present, to the pain which he feels, the fee- 
 bleness which prostrates him, the mournful 
 sympathy of his friends? Can he be secured 
 from all recollections of the past, and from 
 all anticipations of the future ? Can he quiet- 
 
238 
 
 ly, and without fear, think of his past hfe ; 
 of the privileges he has neglected, of the 
 mercies he has abused, of the number and 
 aggravated nature of the sins he has commit- 
 ted against God, of that eternity into which 
 he is about to be launched, of that judge in 
 whose presence he is about to appear, of 
 that sentence which will soon tix his ever- 
 lasting condition ? To think of these appal- 
 ling subjects without fear and dread, requires 
 a heartof adamant; not to think of them under 
 such circumstances, implies an ignorance and 
 stupidity which are indications of future 
 anguish and despair. They may not intend 
 it, but really the caution of some physicians, 
 and of some friends, in such cases, is loud 
 and solemn preaching. It enforces on us, 
 like a voice from the grave, the warnings and 
 declarations of the Bible : Remember now 
 thy Creator^ in the days of thy youths while 
 the evil days come not, nor the years draw 
 nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure 
 in them : Behold, now is the accepted time ; 
 behold, now is the day of salvation : the night 
 Cometh, when no man c.in work. It tells us 
 that health is the time to prepare for eternity; 
 that when sickness has prostrated us, when 
 apprehensions of death are increasing every 
 moment, it is then too late ; that then the pa- 
 tient is not to be alarmed, but quieted and 
 
239 
 
 cheered if possible, with the kindly influ- 
 ence of hope. But from whence is this hope 
 to be derived ? His hfe has been an unin- 
 terrupted scene of iniquity for which there 
 is not a shadow of excuse ; will this quiet his 
 fears, and cheer him with hope? The jaws 
 of death are just closing on him with their 
 last tremendous crush ; will this animate 
 his spirits ? Before him is the judgment 
 seat of Christ ; will this give tranquillity and 
 peace to his mind ? No ; but still his danger 
 is to be kept out of his view, and he is to be 
 amused with the hope of recovery. Some- 
 times this delusive amusement is continued 
 till his connection with this world is for ever 
 dissolved, and he is before his Judge. The 
 fact is, that if he think of these subjects, it is 
 at the peril of his life ; if he does not think of 
 them, it is with the peril of his soul. 
 
 On the other hand : Mark the perfect man^ 
 and behold the upright^ for the end of that 
 man is peaee. His failh in Christ secures the 
 possession of this peace. Being justified by 
 faith we have peace with God, through our 
 Lord Jesus Christ. The dearest objects of 
 his affections which he is leaving behind, he 
 can commend to the providence of his hea- 
 venly Father; his afflictions he bears with 
 patience and resignation ; the hope which he 
 feels in a Saviour's death cheers and supports 
 
240 
 
 him ; death itself will be gain to him ; the 
 Judge before whom he is to appear is that 
 Redeemer whom he loves, and who has 
 bought him w^th his blood. The pious affec- 
 tions of his heart will, therefore, preserve his 
 mind in that state most favourable, if such 
 should be the will of God, to his recovery. 
 Nor docs it require any artful disguise to feed 
 the hope which quiets and cheers his mind ; 
 it is fed by the truth and mercy of God. The 
 church may lament his loss ; but he can re- 
 joice in view of his eternal rest. His friends 
 may weep around him ; but he can triumph 
 in the language of faith ; thanks he unto God 
 who givdh me the victory. 
 
 Our affections, it is well known, impart 
 more or less of their own colouring to all ob- 
 jects with which we are connected. The 
 mind of melancholy cast sees every thing 
 dressed in the sable hue of its own complex- 
 ion. The mind constitutionally cheerful 
 will view the same objects clothed in more 
 inviting colours. On this principle the pious 
 affections of the Christian contribute not a 
 little to the happiness of his life ; a happiness 
 which none but the Christian can enjoy. 
 Love and hope are known to fill the mind 
 with a steady and placid cheerfulness which 
 imparts to every object a more pleasing as- 
 pect, than that in which it would appear to 
 
241 
 
 a mind without lliese atFectioiis. That which 
 is gloomy and distressing, is less so ; that 
 which is agreeable, is more so, through their 
 benign influence. 
 
 In this way, can we not ascertain the 
 meaning of that very remarkable promise of 
 our Saviour ; Blessed are the meek, for they 
 shall inherit the earth. To inherit is to pos- 
 sess as our own. But the possession of the 
 things of this world is valuable no farther 
 than they contribute to our happiness. Di- 
 vest them of this tendency, and the posses- 
 sion of them is of no value, they cease to be 
 desirable or interesting to us. Those things 
 which we do enjoy, from which we derive 
 real happiness, are, in the same proportion, 
 and for this very reason, our own ; for they 
 answer the only purpose for which posses- 
 sion is valuable. It is but little, compared 
 with the whole, that w^e can enjoy, by the 
 gratification of our appetites ; for these appe- 
 tites are limited ; and satiety, disgust, and 
 pain is the certain consequence of disregard- 
 ing, or attempting to force, these limits. The 
 Christian, in a legal sense, or according to the 
 civil polity of his country, may possess but 
 very little of this world ; yet in another sense, 
 it is all his own. He views it through the 
 medium of his affections, and particularly of 
 love, and sees it dressed in those pleasing 
 21 
 
242 
 
 colours which these affections impart to it ; 
 he derives less or more enjoyment from 
 every part of it ; and with propriety it may 
 be said, he inherits all that he enjoys. The 
 splendours of wealth which only feed the 
 pride or gratify the vanity of the legal pos- 
 sessor, are, to the pious mind, a display of the 
 divine munificence and glory ; from this 
 wealth, therefore, he derives a real pleasure, 
 while that of the possessor may be only im- 
 aginary. If the earth, therefore, contri- 
 butes to the ha[)pino5s of the meek, it is their 
 inheritance ; an inheritance of wliich they 
 cannot be deprived, unless they can be di- 
 vested of their pious atTections. 
 
 The Bible teaches us the true theory of 
 human happiness ; and if we are not very 
 widely mistaken, experience confirms this 
 theory. When happiness is analysed, it will 
 be found to depend far less on external cir- 
 cumstances, than on the state of the mind. 
 You may look at the splendid palace, adorned 
 with every ornament, supplied with every 
 convenience and comfort which wealth can 
 procure, yet the inhabitants may be among 
 the most miserable of mankind. Their ap- 
 petites may be cloyed by repeated and ex- 
 cessive indulgence ; their minds disquieted 
 by pride, ambition, jealousy, and envy; torn 
 and distracted by violent paroxysms of an- 
 
243 
 
 ger, by deep-rooted hatred, by implacable 
 resentment ; constantly agitated with discon- 
 tent, impatience, fretfulness, and a host of 
 similar feelings. Here are the means of such 
 enjoyments as this earth can afford, but no 
 real pleasure, no rational happiness. Visit, 
 again, the cottage of the poor, without a sin- 
 gle ornament, convenience or comfort which 
 indicate wealth ; where every thing sug- 
 gests the idea of poverty and want ; yet the 
 tenants of this cottage may be among the 
 happiest of mankind. Here is contentment 
 with the condition in which Providence has 
 placed them ; their scanty meals are received 
 with gratitude, of course with real pleasure. 
 This humble retreat is not invaded by the 
 turbulence of guilty passions ; meekness, hu- 
 mility, kindness, and charity, impart a mild 
 and heavenly serenity. Here faith, and hope, 
 and love, exert their influence in purifying 
 the heart, in regulating the life, in raising 
 the mind above this earth, and filling it with 
 that joy and peace which flow from commu- 
 nion with God. The sun of worldly pros- 
 perity may visit them with but few of his 
 rays ; but the sun of righteousness warms and 
 animates and cheers their souls with his hea- 
 venly beams. The favour of man may never 
 smile upon them; but the favour of God 
 which is life, and his loving kindness which 
 
244 
 
 is better than life, fills them with joy and 
 peace. In the exercise of fjiith through the 
 benign influence of hof)e and love they have 
 a source of happiiu^ss within tlicmselves, not 
 liable to be atFcctcd by the perpetual flux 
 and reflux which characterises all earthly 
 pleasures. If the rivulets of worldly enjoy- 
 ment should be left dry; or, what is more, 
 if they should flow with the bitter waters of 
 aflliction, they have, within themselves, a 
 source of happiness which never fails. That 
 river of life, which gladdens the city of God, 
 flows with all its blessings into their hearts. 
 The case is widely diilcrent with those who 
 have no other source of enjoyment than this 
 world. Every change in their circumstances 
 will, of course, atfect their happiness ; one 
 stroke of aflliction will cut them off from 
 their enjoyments. Nor have they, when thus 
 separated from the world, any other resource 
 from whence real happiness can be derived. 
 The world is their portion ; and when this is 
 gone, they are left without relief from spirit- 
 ual sources, to all the rude bufletings of ad- 
 versity, and to all the corrodingsof disappoint- 
 ed hopes and blasted expectations. 
 
 Whether that most excellent tract. The 
 Shepherd of Salisbury Plain, be "No Fic- 
 tion," or not, we will not undertake to de- 
 cide : we are sure, however, tliat it is not 
 
245 
 
 romance. A more simple, natural, and 
 touching nnrrative never flowed from an un- 
 inspired pen. Every shepherd, every man, 
 however humble his station, however strait- 
 ened his circumstances, however numerous 
 and pressing his afflictions, might be what 
 this shepherd was; a man of faith and prayer, 
 a man of ardent and scriptural piety. This 
 man exemphfies the power of the Bible in 
 supporting and cheering the mind under af- 
 flictions, and filHng it with undisturbed se- 
 renity and heavenly joy. He shows also the 
 manner in which the Bible produces these 
 effects; by exciting his faith, his hope, his 
 love, and his gratitude ; by habitually calling 
 his thoughts from objects afflictive and dis- 
 couraging, to those which were delightful 
 and animating, from things visible and tem- 
 poral to things spiritual and eternal. We 
 hesitate not to afinrm that this poor man, in 
 his humble retreat, enjoyed more real happi- 
 ness than the most wealthy man in the king- 
 dom, without piety, couM possibly do, not 
 excepting even the monarch who reigned 
 over him. Nay, we think it questionable 
 whether the sun, which never sets on the 
 British dominions, shines on a happier man 
 than the Shepherd of Salisbury Plain. In 
 offering this suggestion, we have not forgot- 
 ten that some of the wealthy, and even some 
 21* 
 
246 
 
 of the nobility of that empire are pious. In 
 addition to their piety, they have the means 
 of procuring those comforts of which the 
 shepherd is deprived. He is, however, con- 
 tended, and cheerful, and happy with his 
 coarse and scanty fare; they can be no more 
 with their comforts and Ihcir delicacies. Ap- 
 petite enables him to derive as i^reat a de- 
 gree of animal pleasure from his plain and 
 simple meal, as they can from their accus- 
 tomed provisions, 'inhere is very little dif- 
 ference, if any at all, between the enjoyment 
 r)f animal pleasures, and perfect contentment 
 without them. Would (he [)resenceof a little 
 morsel ofsalt, ora mug of pure simple water 
 on the table, or the prospect of a dry thatch 
 over their heads, awaken in (heir hearts the 
 same glow of grateful and joyful feeling which 
 they did in his ? if not, then, surely he has 
 the advantage of them ; he enjoys more hap- 
 piness than they. In the catalogue of bless- 
 ings for which they are thankful, these little 
 things are overlooked ; the providence of 
 God has taught him to notice and to value 
 them as distinct and important additions to 
 his happiness. 
 
 We have, not unfrequently, visited the 
 house of mournings made such by death ; and 
 have listened to the languageof grief on these 
 occasions. With close attention, we have 
 
247 
 
 observed the diiferent character which 
 sound scriptural piety, or the want of it, will 
 give to the unrestrained language of sorrow. 
 We have seen the husband taking the last 
 look of the conapanion of his bosom ; a conn- 
 panion whom he loved more than he loved 
 his God and his Saviour, more than any other 
 object in existence. She was the chief 
 source of his happiness. He had lived with- 
 out God in the world : had not been in the 
 habit of acknowledging the providence of 
 God ; of tracing his blessings or his afflictions 
 back to the wise and good designs of a Fa- 
 ther in heaven. His views extended no 
 farther than his own agency, and that of a few 
 natural causes which had forced themselves 
 on his observation. He has heard of the 
 name of a Saviour, and of salvation through 
 him ; but is as great a stranger to commu- 
 nion with God, and is as incapable of deriv- 
 ing support and consolation from the gospel 
 and its rich provisions, as the very pagan who 
 bows before the dumb idol. There is not in 
 the wide world, nor indeed in the universe, 
 a substitute for the loss he has sustained in 
 the death of a once beloved wife ; not a sin- 
 gle object which can impart one cheering 
 ray to his heart. Tell him of the virtues, the 
 amiable qualities, of his late companion ; you 
 only open the w^ounds in his heart, drive 
 
i48 
 
 deeper the poniard of grief into his bleeding 
 soul : for you thereby render more vivid and 
 distressing the conviction that she is gone, 
 she is his no more. Tell him of the mercy, 
 the compassion of God ; of the wise and gra- 
 cious designs of Providence in this painful 
 bereavement ; you speak a language per- 
 fectly unintelligible to him, which conveys 
 no definite idea to his mind, and which, of 
 course, can give him neither consolation nor 
 support. The unbelief and impenitence of 
 his heart repel these consolations, so well 
 calculated to cheer and sustain the pious 
 mind. The dark and cheerless suggestions 
 of philosophy, or of infidelity cannot reach 
 his case, nor remove the deep anguish which 
 has seated itself in his soul. No support is 
 derived from tracing back his affliction to 
 some designing, intelligent, and gracious 
 cause ; nor by viewing it connected with fu- 
 ture and lasting benefit to himself: it springs, 
 he knows not whence ; ii tends, he knows 
 not whither. At this painful moment, his 
 incoherent language, his violent exclama- 
 tions, while they indicate the ardency of 
 those affections now bereft of their object, 
 and the agony of grief which he suffers, prove 
 that he suffers without mitigation or relief, 
 and that he knows not where to look for 
 consolation and support. By one stroke of 
 
249 
 
 affliction the world has become to him a 
 perfect blank ; and unbelief and impiety have 
 alienated his heart from that God who is a 
 refuge in distress, a very present help in trou- 
 ble. 
 
 We have seen, on the other hand, a mo- 
 ther, whose sensibility of heart has not been 
 diminished, but refined and improved, by the 
 influence of the Bible, imprinting the last 
 solemn kiss on the lips of a beloved child, 
 now cold in death ; a child whose compara- 
 tive innocence, whose tenderness, whose 
 loveliness had entwined it with every fibre 
 of the heart ; a child which she had received 
 as an important trust from God, to whom she 
 devoutly commended it in prayer ; over 
 which she had often pondered with mingled 
 emotions ; sometimes with pleasing hopes of 
 its future piety and usefulness to the church ; 
 sometimes with pensive apprehensions res- 
 pecting the dark volume of futurity ; at one 
 time, rejoicing with it through scenes of 
 prosperity and happiness ; at another recol- 
 lecting the mutability of all sublunary pros- 
 pects, the frailty and uncertainty of human 
 life, clinging to it with unabated affection 
 through seasons of adversity, with sleepless 
 anxiety, watching, and soothing, and cherish- 
 ing it through the last sad hours of sickness, 
 pouring a mother's blessing on it, as the last 
 
250 
 
 struggle and the last breath announce the 
 departure of the spirit, and then resigning it 
 to the grave, and commending herself to the 
 mercy of her God and her Saviour. These 
 last mournful anticipations have proved to 
 be prophetic ; the last act of kindness, which 
 maternal tenderness and affection could sug- 
 gest, has been performed ; from her eye is 
 now flowing the parting tear; her bosom is 
 now heaving the last adieu. The language 
 which grief permits her to use, or by which 
 grief seeks to assuage itself, proves that her 
 distress is not less poignant, than it would 
 have been, if the Bible had not impressed 
 on her heart the image of the Divine Sa- 
 viour ; but it proves also that her distress is 
 directed and controlled, and that she is sup- 
 ported by the exercise of faith, and hope, 
 and love. By the light of faith she traces 
 back this affliction to a wise and holy design 
 which was formed in the counsels of infinite 
 wisdom, and which existed in the Divine 
 mind before the foundations of the world. 
 She sees that this affliction, with all its cir- 
 cumstances, forms a part of a great plan, in- 
 tended to prepare her for the joy of her 
 Lord, for the rest and the bliss of heaven. 
 With a firm though humble confidence, she 
 believes it will work for her good, and pro- 
 mote her spiritual advantage. She suffers, 
 
251 
 
 indeed, but not as an orphan, without sharing 
 in the tendeiest sympathies of friendship. 
 She views the rod which afflicts her in the 
 hand of fatherly compassion, every stroke of 
 which is measured by love. Without one 
 rebellious feeling, with meek and filial sub- 
 mission, she resigns herself and her child to 
 God, using the language of an afflicted saint 
 of old. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath 
 taken away ', and then adding with a peculiar 
 emphasis, which nothing but piety in distress 
 could give ; blessed be the name of the Lord ! 
 Few scenes are more impressive and use- 
 ful, than to witness the Christian in afflic- 
 tion ; blessing the hand that smites him ; 
 giving up, without a murmur, the dearest 
 earthly object of affection ; meeting the Sa.- 
 viour who approaches with his animating 
 voice on the waves of sorrow, which break 
 all around him. Never does religion appear 
 clothed in more lovely and heavenly at- 
 traction, than when calming the bosom, and 
 cheering the spirit of the child of God, when 
 suffering the correction of his heavenly Fa- 
 ther. Let others, with thoughtless eager- 
 ness, rush to the house of feasting ; partake 
 of the sumptuous provision, collected from 
 the four quarters of the globe ; behold the 
 splendours of wealth, and drown the reflec- 
 tions of death and eternity, amidst the pomp 
 
252 
 
 and the merriment of this world : lead me 
 to the house of mourning, to witness the 
 power of faith, and hope, and love, in com- 
 forting and sustaining the Christian under 
 the pressure of affliction ! 
 
 Such is the Bible ; and such are the efifects 
 which it is producing; and such are the 
 strong claims which it has on the patronage 
 and zeal of all who are friends to the culti- 
 vation and improvement of the human intel- 
 lect; friends to the good order, the peace, 
 and prosperity of society ; friends to the real 
 happiness of man ; friends to the cause of 
 God. The most rational consolation and 
 support, the purest joy which man, in this 
 vale of sorrow, can taste ; the brightest days 
 which this dark, and miserable, and sinful 
 w^orld will ever witness ; will be owing to 
 the influence of the Book of God. The 
 most enrapturing delights, and the sublimest 
 glories of heaven itself, will result from the 
 influence of the gospel.