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A Practical View of the Prevailing Religious System of Professed Christians, in the Middle and Higher Classes in this Country, Contrasted with Real Christianity.

by William Wilberforce · English · Gutenberg #25709 · 648,358 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: A Practical View of the Prevailing Religious System of Professed Christians, in the Middle and Higher Classes in this Country, Contrasted with Real Christianity.

Author: William Wilberforce


        
Release date: June 6, 2008 [eBook #25709]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25709

Credits: Produced by Robert Shimmin, Nigel Blower, Greg Alethoup
        and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
        http://www.pgdp.net


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PRACTICAL VIEW OF THE PREVAILING RELIGIOUS SYSTEM OF PROFESSED CHRISTIANS, IN THE MIDDLE AND HIGHER CLASSES IN THIS COUNTRY, CONTRASTED WITH REAL CHRISTIANITY. ***




Produced by Robert Shimmin, Nigel Blower, Greg Alethoup
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net









                      A
               PRACTICAL VIEW
                   OF THE
         PREVAILING RELIGIOUS SYSTEM
                     OF
            PROFESSED CHRISTIANS,
                   IN THE
          HIGHER AND MIDDLE CLASSES
                  IN THIS
                  COUNTRY,
              CONTRASTED WITH
             REAL CHRISTIANITY.


        By WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, Esq;
Member of Parliament for the County of York.


Search the Scriptures!----          JOHN, v. 39.

    How charming is DIVINE PHILOSOPHY!
Not harsh, and crabbed, as dull Fools suppose,
But Musical as is Apollo's lute,
And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets,
Where no crude surfeit reigns.           MILTON.


                  DUBLIN:
         Printed by Robert Dapper,
    FOR B. DUGDALE, NO. 6, DAME-STREET.

                M.DCC.XCVII.




INTRODUCTION.


It has been, for several years, the earnest wish of the writer of the
following pages to address his countrymen on the important subject of
Religion; but the various duties of his public station, and a
constitution incapable of much labour, have obstructed the execution of
his purpose. Long has he been looking forward to some vacant season, in
which he might devote his whole time and attention to this interesting
service, free from the interruption of all other concerns; and he has
the rather wished for this opportunity of undistracted and mature
reflection, from a desire that what he might send into the world might
thus be rendered less undeserving of the public eye. Meanwhile life is
wearing away, and he daily becomes more and more convinced, that he
might wait in vain for this season of complete vacancy. He must,
therefore, improve such occasional intervals of leisure as may occur to
him in the course of a busy life, and throw himself on the Reader's
indulgence for the pardon of such imperfections, as the opportunity of
undiverted and more mature attention might have enabled him to discover
and correct.

But the plea here suggested is by no means intended as an excuse for the
opinions which he shall express, if they be found mistaken. Here, if he
be in an error, it is however a deliberate error. He would indeed
account himself unpardonable, if he were to intrude his first thoughts
upon the Public on a question of such importance; and he can truly
declare, that what he shall offer will be the result of much reading,
observation, and inquiry, and of long, serious, and repeated
consideration.

It is not improbable that he may be accused of deviating from his proper
line, and of impertinently interfering in the concerns of a Profession
to which he does not belong. If it were necessary, however, to defend
himself against this charge, he might shelter himself under the
authority of many most respectable examples. But surely to such an
accusation it may be sufficient to reply, that it is the duty of every
man to promote the happiness of his fellow-creatures to the utmost of
his power; and that he who thinks he sees many around him, whom he
esteems and loves, labouring under a fatal error, must have a cold
heart, or a most confined notion of benevolence, if he could refrain
from endeavouring to set them right, lest in so doing he should be
accused of stepping out of his proper walk, and expose himself on that
ground to the imputation of officiousness.

But he might also allege as a full justification, not only that Religion
is the business of every one, but that its advancement or decline in any
country is so intimately connected with the temporal interests of
society, as to render it the peculiar concern of a political man; and
that what he may presume to offer on the subject of Religion may perhaps
be perused with less jealousy and more candour, from the very
circumstance of its having been written by a Layman, which must at least
exclude the idea (an idea sometimes illiberally suggested to take off
the effect of the works of Ecclesiastics) that it is prompted by motives
of self-interest, or of professional prejudice.

But if the writer's apology be not found in the work itself, and in his
avowed motive for undertaking it, he would in vain endeavour to satisfy
his readers by any excuses he might assign; therefore, without farther
preamble, he will proceed to the statement and execution of his
purpose.

The main object which he has in view is, not to convince the Sceptic, or
to answer the arguments of persons who avowedly oppose the fundamental
doctrines of our Religion; but to point out the scanty and erroneous
system of the bulk of those who belong to the class of orthodox
Christians, and to contrast their defective scheme with a representation
of what the author apprehends to be real Christianity. Often has it
filled him with deep concern, to observe in this description of persons,
scarcely any distinct knowledge of the real nature and principles of the
religion which they profess. The subject is of infinite importance; let
it not be driven out of our minds by the bustle or dissipations of life.
This present scene, and all its cares and all its gaieties, will soon be
rolled away, and "we must stand before the judgment seat of Christ."
This awful consideration will prompt the writer to express himself with
greater freedom than he should otherwise be disposed to use. This
consideration he trusts, also, will justify his frankness, and will
secure him a serious and patient perusal. But it would be trespassing on
the indulgence of the reader to detain him with introductory remarks.
Let it only be farther premised, that if what shall be stated should to
any appear needlessly austere and rigid, the writer must lay in his
claim not to be condemned, without a fair inquiry whether or not his
statements accord with the language of the sacred writings. To that test
he refers with confidence; and it must be conceded by those who admit
the authority of Scripture (such only he is addressing) that from the
decision of the word of God there can be no appeal.




CONTENTS.

                                                              Page

INTRODUCTION.                                                    v

CHAP. I.
_Inadequate Conceptions of the Importance of Christianity._      1

CHAP. II.
_Corruption of Human Nature._                                   14

CHAP. III.
_Chief Defects of the Religious System of the bulk of
professed Christians, in what regards our Lord Jesus Christ,
and the Holy Spirit--with a Dissertation concerning the use
of the Passions in Religion._                                   43

CHAP. IV.
_On the prevailing inadequate Conceptions concerning the
Nature and the Strictness of Practical Christianity._          100

CHAP. V.
_On the Excellence of Christianity in certain important
Particulars. Argument which results thence in Proof of its
Divine Origin._                                                252

CHAP. VI.
_Brief Inquiry into the present State of Christianity in
this Country, with some of the Causes which have led to its
critical Circumstances. Its Importance to us as a political
Community, and practical Hints for which the foregoing
Considerations give occasion._                                 262

CHAP. VII.
_Practical Hints to various Descriptions of Persons._          305




A PRACTICAL VIEW, &c.




CHAPTER I.

INADEQUATE CONCEPTIONS OF THE IMPORTANCE OF CHRISTIANITY.

_Popular Notions.--Scripture Account.--Ignorance in this Case
criminal.--Two false Maxims exposed._


Before we proceed to the consideration of any particular defects in the
religious system of the bulk of professed Christians, it may be proper
to point out the very inadequate conception which they entertain of the
importance of Christianity in general, of its peculiar nature, and
superior excellence. If we listen to their conversation, virtue is
praised, and vice is censured; piety is perhaps applauded, and
profaneness condemned. So far all is well. But let any one, who would
not be deceived, by these "barren generalities" examine a little more
closely, and he will find, that not to Christianity in particular, but
at best to Religion in general, perhaps to mere Morality, their homage
is intended to be paid. With Christianity, as distinct from these, they
are little acquainted; their views of it have been so cursory and
superficial, that far from discerning its characteristic essence, they
have little more than perceived those exterior circumstances which
distinguish it from other forms of Religion. There are some few facts,
and perhaps some leading doctrines and principles, of which they cannot
be wholly ignorant; but of the consequences, and relations, and
practical uses of these, they have few ideas, or none at all.

Does this seem too strong? View their plan of life and their ordinary
conduct; and not to speak at present of their general inattention to
things of a religious nature, let us ask, wherein can we discern the
points of discrimination between them and professed unbelievers? In an
age wherein it is confessed and lamented that infidelity abounds, do we
observe in them any remarkable care to instruct their children in the
principles of the faith which they profess, and to furnish them with
arguments for the defence of it? They would blush, on their child's
coming out into the world, to think him defective in any branch of that
knowledge, or of those accomplishments which belong to his station in
life, and accordingly these are cultivated with becoming assiduity. But
he is left to collect his religion as he may; the study of Christianity
has formed no part of his education, and his attachment to it (where any
attachment to it exists at all) is, too often, not the preference of
sober reason, but merely the result of early prejudice and groundless
prepossession. He was born in a Christian country, of course he is a
Christian; his father was a member of the church of England, so is he.
When such is the hereditary religion handed down from generation to
generation, it cannot surprise us to observe young men of sense and
spirit beginning to doubt altogether of the truth of the system in which
they have been brought up, and ready to abandon a station which they are
unable to defend. Knowing Christianity chiefly in the difficulties which
it contains, and in the impossibilities which are falsely imputed to it,
they fall perhaps into the company of infidels; and, as might be
expected, they are shaken by frivolous objections and profane cavils,
which, had they been grounded and bottomed in reason and argument, would
have passed by them, "as the idle wind," and scarcely have seemed worthy
of serious notice.

Let us beware before it be too late. No one can say into what discredit
Christianity may hereby grow, at a time when the free and unrestrained
intercourse, subsisting amongst the several ranks and classes of
society, so much favours the general diffusion of the sentiments of the
higher orders. To a similar ignorance is perhaps in no small degree to
be ascribed the success, with which Christianity has been attacked of
late years in a neighbouring country. Had she not been wholly unarmed
for the contest, however she might have been forced from her untenable
posts, and compelled to disembarrass herself from her load of
incumbrances, she never could have been driven altogether out of the
field by her puny assailants, with all their cavils, and gibes, and
sarcasms; for in these consisted the main strength of their petty
artillery. Let us beware, lest we also suffer from a like cause; nor let
it be our crime and our reproach, that in schools, perhaps even in
Colleges, Christianity is almost if not altogether neglected.

It cannot be expected, that they who are so little attentive to this
great object in the education of their children, should be more so in
other parts of their conduct, where less strongly stimulated by
affection, and less obviously loaded with responsibility. They are of
course therefore, little regardful of the state of Christianity in their
own country; and still more indifferent about communicating the light of
divine truth to the nations which "still sit in darkness."

But Religion, it may be replied, is not noisy and ostentatious; it is
modest and private in its nature; it resides in a man's own bosom, and
shuns the observation of the multitude. Be it so.

From the transient and distant view then, which we have been taking of
these unassuming Christians, let us approach a little nearer, and listen
to the unreserved conversation of their confidential hours. Here, if any
where, the interior of the heart is laid open, and we may ascertain the
true principles of their regards and aversions; the scale by which they
measure the good and evil of life. Here, however, you will discover few
or no traces of Christianity. She scarcely finds herself a place amidst
the many objects of their hopes, and fears, and joys, and sorrows.
Grateful, perhaps, (as well indeed they may be grateful) for health, and
talents, and affluence, and other blessings belonging to their persons
and conditions in life, they scarcely reckon in the number this grand
distinguishing mark of the bounty of Providence; or if they mention it
at all, it is noticed coldly and formally, like one of those obsolete
claims to which, though but of small account in the estimate of our
wealth or power, we think it as well to put in our title from
considerations of family decorum or of national usage.

But what more than all the rest establishes the point in question: let
their conversation take a graver turn: here at length their religion,
modest and retired as it is, must be expected to disclose itself; here
however you will look in vain for the religion of Jesus. Their standard
of right and wrong is not the standard of the gospel: they approve and
condemn by a different rule; they advance principles and maintain
opinions altogether opposite to the genius and character of
Christianity. You would fancy yourself rather amongst the followers of
the old philosophy; nor is it easy to guess how any one could satisfy
himself to the contrary, unless, by mentioning the name of some
acknowledged heretic, he should afford them an occasion of demonstrating
their zeal for the religion of their country.

The truth is, their opinions on these subjects are not formed from the
perusal of the word of God. The Bible lies on the shelf unopened; and
they would be wholly ignorant of its contents, except for what they hear
occasionally at church, or for the faint traces which their memories may
still retain of the lessons of their earliest infancy.

How different, nay, in many respects, how contradictory, would be the
two systems of mere morals, of which the one should be formed from the
commonly received maxims of the Christian world, and the other from the
study of the Holy Scriptures! it would be curious to remark in any one,
who had hitherto satisfied himself with the former, the astonishment
which would be excited on his first introduction to the latter. We are
not left here to bare conjecture. This was, in fact, the effect produced
on the mind of a late ingenious writer[1], of whose little work, though
it bears perhaps some marks of his customary love of paradox, we must at
least confess, that it exposes, in a strong point of view, the _poverty_
of that superficial religion which has been above condemned; and that it
every where displays that happy perspicuity, and grace, which so
eminently characterize all the compositions of its author. But after
this willing tribute of commendation, we are reluctantly compelled to
remark, that the work in question discredits the cause which it was
meant to serve, by many crude and extravagant positions; from which no
one can be secure who forms a hasty judgment of a deep and comprehensive
subject, the several bearings and relations of which have been
imperfectly surveyed; and above all, it must be lamented, that it treats
the great question which it professes to discuss, rather as a matter of
mere speculation, than as one wherein our everlasting interests are
involved. Surely the writer's object should have been, to convince his
readers of their guilt still more than of their ignorance, and to leave
them impressed rather with a sense of their danger than of their folly.

It were almost a waste of time to multiply arguments in order to prove
how criminal the voluntary ignorance, of which we have been speaking,
must appear in the sight of God. It must be confessed by all who believe
that we are accountable creatures, and to such only the writer is
addressing himself, that we shall have to answer hereafter to the
Almighty for all the means and occasions we have here enjoyed of
improving ourselves, or of promoting the happiness of others. And if,
when summoned to give an account of our stewardship, we shall be called
upon to answer for the use which we have made of our bodily organs, and
of the means of relieving the wants and necessities of our fellow
creatures; how much more for the exercise of the nobler and more exalted
faculties of our nature, of invention, and judgment, and memory; and for
our employment of all the instruments and opportunities of diligent
application, and serious reflection, and honest decision. And to what
subject might we in all reason be expected to apply more earnestly, than
to that wherein our eternal interests are at issue? When God has of his
goodness vouchsafed to grant us such abundant means of instruction in
that which we are most concerned to know, how great must be the guilt,
and how aweful the punishment of voluntary ignorance!

And why, it may be asked, are we in this pursuit alone to expect
knowledge without inquiry, and success without endeavour? The whole
analogy of nature inculcates on us a different lesson, and our own
judgments in matters of temporal interests and worldly policy confirm
the truth of her suggestions. Bountiful as is the hand of Providence,
its gifts are not so bestowed as to seduce us into indolence, but to
rouse us to exertion; and no one expects to attain to the height of
learning, or arts, or power, or wealth, or military glory, without
vigorous resolution, and strenuous diligence, and steady perseverance.
Yet we expect to be Christians without labour, study, or inquiry. This
is the more preposterous, because Christianity, being a revelation from
God, and not the invention of man, discovering to us new relations, with
their correspondent duties; containing also doctrines, and motives, and
practical principles, and rules, peculiar to itself, and almost as new
in their nature as supreme in their excellence, we cannot reasonably
expect to become proficients in it by the accidental intercourses of
life, as one might learn insensibly the maxims of worldly policy, or a
scheme of mere morals.

The diligent perusal of the Holy Scriptures would discover to us our
past ignorance. We should cease to be deceived by superficial
appearances, and to confound the Gospel of Christ with the systems of
philosophers; we should become impressed with that weighty truth, so
much forgotten, and never to be too strongly insisted on, that
Christianity calls on us, as we value our immortal souls, not merely in
_general_, to be _religious_ and _moral_, but _specially_ to believe the
doctrines, and imbibe the principles, and practise the precepts of
Christ. It might be to run into too great length to confirm this
position beyond dispute by express quotations from Scripture. And (not
to anticipate what belongs more properly to a subsequent part of the
work) it may be sufficient here to remark in general, that Christianity
is always represented in Scripture as the grand, the unparalleled
instance of God's bounty to mankind. It was graciously held forth in the
original promise to our first parents; it was predicted by a long
continued series of prophets; the subject of their prayers, inquiries,
and longing expectations. In a world, which opposed and persecuted them,
it was their source of peace, and hope, and consolation. At length it
approached--the Desire of all Nations--The long expected Star announced
its presence--A multitude of the heavenly host hailed its introduction,
and proclaimed its character; "Glory to God in the highest, on earth
peace, good will towards men." It is every where represented in
scripture by such figures as may most deeply impress on us a sense of
its value; it is spoken of as light from darkness, as release from
prison, as deliverance from captivity, as life from death. "Lord, now
lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy
salvation," was the exclamation with which it was welcomed by the pious
Simeon; and it was universally received and professed among the early
converts with thankfulness and joy. At one time, the communication of it
is promised as a reward; at another, the loss of it is threatened as a
punishment. And, short as is the form of prayer taught us by our blessed
Saviour, the more general extension of the kingdom of Christ constitutes
one of its leading petitions.

With what exalted conceptions of the importance of Christianity ought we
to be filled by such descriptions as these? Yet, in vain have we "line
upon line and precept upon precept."--Thus predicted, thus prayed and
longed for, thus announced and characterized and rejoiced in, this
heavenly treasure poured into our lap in rich abundance we scarce
accept. We turn from it coldly, or at best possess it negligently, as a
thing of no account or estimation. But a due sense of its value would be
assuredly impressed on us by the diligent study of the word of God, that
blessed repository of divine truth and consolation. Thence it is that
we are to learn our obligations and our duty, what we are to believe and
what to practise. And, surely, one would think it could not be required
to press men to the perusal of the sacred volume. Reason dictates,
Revelation commands; "Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of
God."--"Search the Scriptures,"--"Be ready to give to every one a reason
of the hope that is in you." Such are the declarations and injunctions
of the inspired writers; injunctions confirmed by commendations of those
who obey the admonition. Yet, is it not undeniable that with the Bible
in our houses, we are ignorant of its contents; and that hence, in a
great measure, it arises, that the bulk of the Christian world know so
little, and mistake so greatly, in what regards the religion which they
profess?

This is not the place for inquiring at large, whence it is that those
who assent to the position, that the Bible is the word of God, and who
profess to rest their hopes on the Christian basis, contentedly
acquiesce in a state of such lamentable ignorance. But it may not be
improper here to touch on two kindred opinions, from which, in the minds
of the more thoughtful and serious, this acquiescence appears to derive
much secret support. The one is, that it signifies little what a man
believes; _look to his practice_. The other (of the same family) _that
sincerity is all in all_. Let a man's opinions and conduct be what they
may, yet, provided he be sincerely convinced that they are right,
however the exigencies of civil society may require him to be dealt with
amongst men, in the sight of God he cannot be criminal.

It would detain us too long fully to set forth the various merits of
these favourite positions, of which it is surely not the smallest
excellence, that they are of unbounded application, comprehending within
their capacious limits, all the errors which have been believed, and
many of the most desperate crimes which have been perpetrated among men.
The former of them is founded altogether on that grossly fallacious
assumption, that a man's opinions will not influence his practice. The
latter proceeds on this groundless supposition, that the Supreme Being
has not afforded us sufficient means of discriminating truth from
falsehood, right from wrong: and it implies, that be a man's opinions or
conduct ever so wild and extravagant, we are to presume, that they are
as much the result of impartial inquiry and honest conviction, as if his
sentiments and actions had been strictly conformable to the rules of
reason and sobriety. Never indeed was there a principle more general in
its use, more sovereign in its potency. How does its beautiful
simplicity also, and compendious brevity, give it rank before the
laborious subtleties of Bellarmine! Clement, and Ravaillac, and other
worthies of a similar stamp, from whose purity of intention the world
has hitherto withheld its due tribute of applause, would here have found
a ready plea; and their injured innocence shall now at length receive
its full though tardy vindication. "These however," it may be replied,
"are excepted cases." Certainly they are cases of which any one who
maintains the opinion in question would be glad to disencumber himself;
because they clearly expose the unsoundness of his principle. But it
will be incumbent on such an one, first to explain with precision why
they are to be exempted from its operation, and this he will find an
impossible task; for sincerity, in its popular sense, so shamefully is
the term misapplied, can be made the criterion of guilt and innocence on
no grounds, which will not equally serve to justify the assassins who
have been instanced. The conclusion cannot be eluded; no man was ever
more fully persuaded of the innocence of any action, than these men
were, that the horrid deed they were about to perpetrate was not lawful
merely, but highly meritorious. Thus Clement and Ravaillac being
unquestionably sincere, they were therefore indubitably innocent. Nay,
the absurdity of this principle might be shewn to be even greater than
what has yet been stated. It would not be going too far to assert, that
whilst it scorns the defence of petty villains, of those who still
retain the sense of good and evil, it holds forth, like some well
frequented sanctuary, a secure asylum to those more finished criminals,
who, from long habits of wickedness, are lost alike to the perception as
to the practice of virtue; and that it selects a seared conscience and a
heart become callous to all moral distinctions as the special objects of
its care. Nor is it only in prophane history that instances like these
are to be found, of persons committing the greatest crimes with a
sincere conviction of the rectitude of their conduct. Scripture will
afford us parallels; and it was surely to guard us against the very
error which we have been now exposing, that our blessed Saviour
forewarned his disciples: "The time cometh, that whosoever killeth you
will think that he doeth God service."

A principle like this must then be abandoned, and the advocates for
sincerity must be compelled to restore this abused term to its genuine
signification, and to acknowledge that it must imply honesty of mind,
and the faithful use of the means of knowledge and of improvement, the
desire of being instructed, humble inquiry, impartial consideration, and
unprejudiced judgment. It is to these we would earnestly call you; to
these (ever to be accompanied with fervent prayers for the divine
blessing) Scripture every where holds forth the most animating promises.
"Ask and ye shall receive, seek and ye shall find, knock and it shall be
opened unto you; Ho! every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters;"
such are the comfortable assurances, such the gracious encouragements to
the truly sincere inquirer. How deep will be our guilt if we slight all
these benevolent offers. "How many prophets and kings have desired to
hear the things that we hear, and have not heard them!" Great indeed are
our opportunities, great also is our responsibility. Let us awaken to a
true sense of our situation. We have every consideration to alarm our
fears, or to animate our industry. How soon may the brightness of our
meridian sun be darkened! Or, should the long suffering of God still
continue to us the mercies which we so much abuse, it will only
aggravate our crime, and in the end enhance our punishment. The time of
reckoning will at length arrive. And when finally summoned to the bar of
God, to give an account of our stewardship, what plea can we have to
urge in our defence, if we remain willingly and obstinately ignorant of
the way which leads to life, with such transcendent means of knowing it,
and such urgent motives to its pursuit?




CHAPTER II.

CORRUPTION OF HUMAN NATURE.


SECT. I.

_Inadequate Conceptions of the Corruption of Human Nature._

After considering the defective notions of the importance of
Christianity _in general_, which prevail among the higher orders of the
Christian world, the particular misconceptions which first come under
our notice respect the corruption and weakness of human nature. This is
a topic on which it is possible that many of those, into whose hands the
present work shall fall, may not have bestowed much attention. If the
case be so, it may be requisite to intreat them to lend a patient and a
serious ear. The subject is of the deepest import. We should not go too
far if we were to assert, that it lies at the very root of all true
Religion, and still more, that it is eminently the basis and ground-work
of Christianity.

So far as the writer has had an opportunity of remarking, the generality
of professed Christians among the higher classes, either altogether
overlook or deny, or at least greatly extenuate the corruption and
weakness here in question. They acknowledge indeed that there is, and
ever has been in the world, a great portion of vice and wickedness; that
mankind have been ever prone to sensuality and selfishness, in
disobedience to the more refined and liberal principles of their nature;
that in all ages and countries, in public and in private life,
innumerable instances have been afforded of oppression, of rapacity, of
cruelty, of fraud, of envy, and of malice. They own that it is too often
in vain that you inform the understanding, and convince the judgment.
They admit that you do not thereby reform the hearts of men. Though they
_know_ their duty, they will not practice it; no not even when you have
forced them to acknowledge that the path of virtue is that also of real
interest, and of solid enjoyment.

These facts are certain; they cannot be disputed; and they are at the
same time so obvious, that one would have thought that the celebrated
apophthegm of the Grecian sage, "the majority are wicked," would
scarcely have established his claim to intellectual superiority.

But though these effects of human depravity are every where acknowledged
and lamented, we must not expect to find them traced to their true
origin.

    Causa latet, vis est notissima.

Prepare yourself to hear rather of frailty and infirmity, of petty
transgressions, of occasional failings, of sudden surprisals, and of
such other qualifying terms as may serve to keep out of view the true
source of the evil, and without shocking the understanding, may
administer consolation to the pride of human nature. The bulk of
professed Christians are used to speak of man as of a being, who,
naturally pure, and inclined to all virtue, is sometimes, almost
involuntary, drawn out of the right course, or is overpowered by the
violence of temptation. Vice with them is rather an accidental and
temporary, than a constitutional and habitual distemper; a noxious
plant, which, though found to live and even to thrive in the human mind,
is not the natural growth and production of the soil.

Far different is the humiliating language of Christianity. From it we
learn that man is an apostate creature, fallen from his high original,
degraded in his nature, and depraved in his faculties; indisposed to
good, and disposed to evil; prone to vice, it is natural and easy to
him; disinclined to virtue, it is difficult and laborious; that he is
tainted with sin, not slightly and superficially, but radically and to
the very core. These are truths which, however mortifying to our pride,
one would think (if this very corruption itself did not warp the
judgment) none would be hardy enough to attempt to controvert. I know
not any thing which brings them home so forcibly to my own feelings, as
the consideration of what still remains to us of our primitive dignity,
when contrasted with our present state of moral degradation,

        "Into what depth thou seest,
    From what height fallen."

Examine first with attention the natural powers and faculties of man!
invention, reason, judgment, memory; a mind "of large discourse,"
"looking before and after," reviewing the past, and thence determining
for the present, and anticipating the future; discerning, collecting,
combining, comparing; capable not merely of apprehending but of admiring
the beauty of moral excellence: with fear and hope to warn and animate;
with joy and sorrow to solace and soften; with love to attach, with
sympathy to harmonize, with courage to attempt, with patience to endure,
and with the power of conscience, that faithful monitor within the
breast, to enforce the conclusions of reason, and direct and regulate
the passions of the soul. Truly we must pronounce him "majestic though
in ruin." "Happy, happy world," would be the exclamation of the
inhabitant of some other planet, on being told of a globe like ours,
peopled with such creatures as these, and abounding with situations and
occasions to call forth the multiplied excellencies of their nature.
"Happy, happy world, with what delight must your great Creator and
Governor witness your conduct, and what large and merited rewards await
you when your term of probation shall have expired.

    "I, bone, quo virtus tua te vocat, i pede fausto,
    Grandia laturus meritorum praemia."

But we have indulged too long in these delightful speculations; a sad
reverse presents itself on our survey of the _actual_ state of man,
when, from viewing his _natural_ powers, we follow him into _practice_,
and see the uses to which he applies them. Take in the whole of the
prospect, view him in every age, and climate, and nation, in every
condition and period of society. Where now do you discover the
characters of his exalted nature? "How is the gold become dim, and the
fine gold changed?" How is his reason clouded, his affections
perverted; his conscience stupified! How do anger, and envy, and
hatred, and revenge, spring up in his wretched bosom! How is he a slave
to the meanest of his appetites! What fatal propensities does he
discover to evil! What inaptitude to good!

Dwell awhile on the state of the ancient world; not merely on that
benighted part of it where all lay buried in brutish ignorance and
barbarism, but on the seats of civilized and polished nations, on the
empire of taste, and learning, and philosophy: yet in these chosen
regions, with whatever lustre the sun of science poured forth its rays,
the moral darkness was so thick "that it might be felt." Behold their
sottish idolatries, their absurd superstitions, their want of natural
affection, their brutal excesses, their unfeeling oppression, their
savage cruelty! Look not to the illiterate and the vulgar, but to the
learned and refined. Form not your ideas from the conduct of the less
restrained and more licentious; you will turn away with disgust and
shame from the allowed and familiar habits of the decent and the moral.
St. Paul best states the facts, and furnishes the explanation; "because
they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, he gave them over to
a reprobate mind[2]."

Now direct your view to another quarter, to the inhabitants of a new
hemisphere, where the baneful practices and contagious example of the
old world had never travelled. Surely, among these children of nature we
may expect to find those virtuous tendencies, for which we have hitherto
looked in vain. Alas! our search will still be fruitless! They are
represented by the historian of America, whose account is more
favourable than those of some other great authorities, as being a
compound of pride, and indolence, and selfishness, and cunning, and
cruelty[3]; full of a revenge which nothing could satiate, of a ferocity
which nothing could soften; strangers to the most amiable sensibilities
of nature[4]. They appeared incapable of conjugal affection, or parental
fondness, or filial reverence, or social attachments; uniting too with
their state of barbarism, many of the vices and weaknesses of polished
society. Their horrid treatment of captives taken in war, on whose
bodies they feasted, after putting them to death by the most cruel
tortures, is so well known, that we may spare the disgusting recital. No
commendable qualities relieve this gloomy picture, except fortitude, and
perseverance, and zeal for the welfare of their little community; if
this last quality, exercised and directed as it was, can be thought
deserving of commendation.

But you give up the heathen nations as indefensible, and wish rather to
form your estimate of man from a view of countries which have been
blessed with the light of revelation.--True it is, and with joy let us
record the concession, Christianity has set the general tone of morals
much higher than it was ever found in the Pagan world. She has every
where improved the character and multiplied the comforts of society,
particularly to the poor and the weak, whom from the beginning she
professed to take under her special patronage. Like her divine Author,
"who sends his rain on the evil and on the good," she showers down
unnumbered blessings on thousands who profit from her bounty, while they
forget or deny her power, and set at nought her authority. Yet even in
this more favoured situation we shall discover too many lamentable
proofs of the depravity of man. Nay, this depravity will now become even
more apparent and less deniable. For what bars does it not now overleap?
Over what motives is it not now victorious? Consider well the superior
light and advantages which we enjoy, and then appreciate the superior
obligations which are imposed on us. Consider in how many cases our evil
propensities are now kept from breaking forth, by the superior
restraints under which vice is laid among us by positive laws, and by
the amended standard of public opinion; and we may be assisted in
conjecturing what force is to be assigned to these motives, by the
dreadful proofs which have been lately exhibited in a neighbouring
country, that when their influence is withdrawn, the most atrocious
crimes can be perpetrated shamelessly and in the face of day. Consider
then the superior excellence of our moral code, the new principles of
obedience furnished by the gospel, and above all, the awful sanction
which the doctrines and precepts of Christianity derive from the clear
discovery of a future state of retribution, and from the annunciation of
that tremendous day, "when we shall stand before the judgment seat of
Christ." Yet, in spite of all our knowledge thus enforced and pressed
home by this solemn notice, how little has been our progress in virtue?
It has been by no means such as to prevent the adoption, in our days, of
various maxims of antiquity, which, when well considered, too clearly
establish the depravity of man. It may not be amiss to adduce a few
instances in proof of this assertion. It is now no less acknowledged
than heretofore, that prosperity hardens the heart: that unlimited power
is ever abused, instead of being rendered the instrument of diffusing
happiness: that habits of vice grow up of themselves, whilst those of
virtue, if to be obtained at all, are of slow and difficult formation;
that they who draw the finest pictures of virtue, and seem most
enamoured of her charms, are often the least under her influence, and by
the merest trifles are drawn aside from that line of conduct, which they
most strongly and seriously recommend to others, that all this takes
place, though most of the pleasures of vice are to be found with less
alloy in the paths of virtue; whilst at the same time, these paths
afford superior and more exquisite delights, peculiar to themselves, and
are free from the diseases and bitter remorse, at the price of which
vicious gratifications are so often purchased.

It may suffice to touch very slightly on some other arguments, which it
would hardly be right to leave altogether unnoticed: one of these (the
justice of which, however denied by superficial moralists, parents of
strict principles can abundantly testify) may be drawn from the perverse
and froward dispositions perceivable in children, which it is the
business and sometimes the ineffectual attempt of education to reform.
Another may be drawn from the various deceits we are apt to practice on
ourselves, to which no one can be a stranger, who has ever contemplated
the operations of his own mind with serious attention. To the influence
of this species of corruption it has been in a great degree owing, that
Christianity itself has been too often disgraced. It has been turned
into an engine of cruelty, and amidst the bitterness of persecution,
every trace has disappeared of the mild and beneficent spirit of the
religion of Jesus. In what degree must the taint have worked itself into
the frame, and have corrupted the habit, when the most wholesome
nutriment can be thus converted into the deadliest poison! Wishing
always to argue from such premises as are not only really sound, but
from such as cannot even be questioned by those to whom this work is
addressed, little was said in representing the deplorable state of the
Heathen world, respecting their defective and unworthy conceptions in
what regards the Supreme Being, who even then however "left not himself
without witness, but gave them rain and fruitful seasons, filling their
hearts with food and gladness." But surely to any who call themselves
Christians, it may be justly urged as an astonishing instance of human
depravity, that we ourselves, who enjoy the full light of revelation; to
whom God has vouchsafed such clear discoveries of what it concerns us to
know of his being and attributes; who profess to believe "that in him we
live, and move, and have our being;" that to him we owe all the comforts
we here enjoy, and the offer of eternal Glory purchased for us by the
atoning blood of his own Son; ("thanks be to God for his unspeakable
gift,") that we, thus loaded with mercies, should every one of us be
continually chargeable with forgetting his authority, and being
ungrateful for his benefits; with slighting his gracious proposals, or
receiving them at best but heartlessly and coldly.

But to put the question concerning the natural depravity of man to the
severest test: take the best of the human species, the watchful diligent
self-denying Christian, and let _him_ decide the controversy; and that,
not by inferences drawn from the practices of a thoughtless and
dissolute world, but by an appeal to his personal experience. Go with
him into his closet, ask him _his_ opinion of the corruption of the
heart, and he will tell you that he is deeply sensible of its power, for
that he has learned it from much self-observation and long acquaintance
with the workings of his own mind. He will tell you, that every day
strengthens this conviction; yea, that hourly he sees fresh reason to
deplore his want of simplicity in intention, his infirmity of purpose,
his low views, his selfish unworthy desires, his backwardness to set
about his duty, his languor and coldness in performing it: that he
finds himself obliged continually to confess, that he feels within him
two opposite principles, and that "he cannot do the things that he
would." He cries out in the language of the excellent Hooker, "The
little fruit which we have in holiness, it is, God knoweth, corrupt and
unsound: we put no confidence at all in it, we challenge nothing in the
world for it, we dare not call God to reckoning, as if we had him in our
debt books; our continual suit to him is, and must be, to bear with our
infirmities, and pardon our offences."

Such is the moral history, such the condition of man. The figures of the
piece may vary, and the colouring is sometimes of a darker, sometimes of
a lighter hue; but the principles of the composition, the grand
outlines, are every where the same. Wherever we direct our view, we
discover the melancholy proofs of our depravity; whether we look to
ancient or modern times, to barbarous or civilized nations, to the
conduct of the world around us, or to the monitor within the breast;
whether we read, or hear, or act, or think, or feel, the same
humiliating lesson is forced upon us,

    Juppiter est quodcunque vides, quocunque moveris.

Now when we look back to the picture which was formerly drawn of the
_natural powers_ of man, and compare this his _actual_ state with that
for which, from a consideration of those powers, he seems to have been
originally calculated, how are we to account for the astonishing
contrast! will frailty or infirmity, or occasional lapses, or sudden
surprisals, or any such qualifying terms, convey an adequate idea of the
nature, or point out the cause of the distemper? How, on any principles
of common reasoning, can we account for it, but by conceiving that man,
since he came out of the hands of his Creator, has contracted a taint,
and that the venom of this subtle poison has been communicated
throughout the race of Adam, every where exhibiting incontestible marks
of its fatal malignity? Hence it has arisen, that the appetites deriving
new strength, and the powers of reason and conscience being weakened,
the latter have feebly and impotently pleaded against those forbidden
indulgences which the former have solicited. Sensual gratifications and
illicit affections have debased our nobler powers, and indisposed our
hearts to the discovery of God, and to the consideration of his
perfections; to a constant willing submission to his authority, and
obedience to his laws. By a repetition of vicious acts, evil habits have
been formed within us, and have rivetted the fetters of sin. Left to the
consequences of our own folly, the understanding has grown darker, and
the heart more obdurate; reason has at length altogether betrayed her
trust, and even conscience herself has aided the delusion, till, instead
of deploring our miserable slavery, we have too often hugged, and even
gloried in our chains.

Such is the general account of the progress of vice, where it is
suffered to attain to its full growth in the human heart. The
circumstances of individuals will be found indeed to differ; the
servitude of some, if it may be allowed us to continue a figure so
exactly descriptive of the case, is more rigorous than that of others,
their bonds more galling, their degradation more complete. Some too (it
will be remembered that we are speaking of the natural state of man,
without taking Christianity into question) have for a while appeared
almost to have escaped from their confinement; but none are altogether
free; all without exception, in a greater or less degree bear about
them, more visible or more concealed, the ignominious marks of their
captivity.

Such on a full and fair investigation must be confessed to be the state
of facts; and how can this be accounted for on any other supposition,
than that of some original taint, some radical principle of corruption?
All other solutions are unsatisfactory, whilst the potent cause which
has been assigned, does abundantly, and can alone sufficiently account
for the effect. Thus then it appears, that the corruption of human
nature is proved by the same mode of reasoning, as has been deemed
conclusive in establishing the existence, and ascertaining the laws of
the principle of gravitation: that the doctrine rests on the same solid
basis as the sublime philosophy of Newton: that it is not a mere
speculation, and therefore an uncertain though perhaps an ingenious
theory, but the sure result of large and actual experiment; deduced from
incontestable facts, and still more fully approving its truth by
harmonizing with the several parts and accounting for the various
phaenomena, jarring otherwise and inexplicable, of the great system of
the universe.

Revelation, however, here comes in, and sustains the fallible
conjectures of our unassisted reason. The Holy Scriptures speak of us as
fallen creatures: in almost every page we shall find something that is
calculated to abate the loftiness and silence the pretensions of man.
"The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth." "What is man,
that he should be clean? and he which is born of a woman, that he should
be righteous[5]." "How much more abominable and filthy is man, which
drinketh iniquity like water[6]?" "The Lord looked down from heaven upon
the children of men, to see if there were any that did understand, and
seek God. They are all gone aside; they are altogether become filthy:
there is none that doeth good, no not one[7]." "Who can say, I have made
my heart clean, I am pure from my sin[8]?" "The _heart_ is deceitful
above all things, and desperately wicked, who can know it." "Behold, I
was shapen in wickedness, and in sin hath my mother conceived me." "We
were by nature the children of wrath, even as others, fulfilling the
desires of the flesh and of the mind." "O wretched man that I am, who
shall deliver me from the body of this death!"--Passages might be
multiplied upon passages, which speak the same language, and these again
might be illustrated and confirmed at large by various other
considerations, drawn from the same sacred source; such as those which
represent a thorough change, a renovation of our nature, as being
necessary to our becoming true Christians; or as those also which are
suggested by observing that holy men refer their good dispositions and
affections to the immediate agency of the Supreme Being.


SECTION II.

_Evil Spirit.--Natural State of Man._

But in addition to all which has been yet stated, the word of God
instructs us that we have to contend not only with our own natural
depravity, but with the power of darkness, the Evil Spirit, who rules in
the hearts of the wicked, and whose dominion we learn from Scripture to
be so general, as to entitle him to the denomination of "the Prince of
this world." There cannot be a stronger proof of the difference which
exists between the religious system of the Scriptures, and that of the
bulk of nominal Christians, than the proof which is afforded by the
subject now in question. The existence and agency of the Evil Spirit,
though so distinctly and repeatedly affirmed in Scripture, are almost
universally exploded in a country which professes to admit the authority
of the sacred volume. Some other Doctrines of Revelation, the force and
real meaning of which are commonly in a great degree explained away, are
yet conceded in general terms. But this seems almost by universal
consent to have been abandoned, as a post no longer tenable. It is
regarded as an evanescent prejudice, which it would now be a discredit
to any man of understanding to believe. Like ghosts and witches and
other phantoms, which haunted the night of superstition, it cannot in
these more enlightened times stand the test of our severer scrutiny. To
be suffered to pass away quietly, is as much as it can hope for; and it
might rather expect to be laughed off the stage as a just object of
contempt and derision.

But although the Scripture doctrine concerning the Evil Spirit is thus
generally exploded, yet were we to consider the matter seriously and
fairly, we should probably find ground for believing that there is no
better reason for its being abandoned, than that many absurd stories,
concerning spirits and apparitions, have been used to be believed and
propagated amongst weak and credulous people; and that the Evil Spirit
not being the object of our bodily eyes, it would be an instance of the
same weakness to give credit to the doctrine of its existence and
agency. But to be consistent with ourselves, we might almost as well, on
the same principle, deny the reality of all other incorporeal beings.
What is there, in truth, in the doctrine, which is in itself improbable,
or which is not confirmed by analogy? We see, in fact, that there are
wicked men, enemies to God, and malignant towards their fellow
creatures, who take pleasure, and often succeed, in drawing in others to
the commission of evil. Why then should it be deemed incredible, that
there may be one or more spiritual intelligences of similar natures and
propensities, who may in like manner be permitted to tempt men to the
practice of sin? Surely we may retort upon our opponents the charge of
absurdity, and justly accuse them of gross inconsistency, in admitting,
without difficulty, the existence and operation of these qualities in a
material being, and yet denying them in an immaterial one (in direct
contradiction to the authority of Scripture, which they allow to be
conclusive) when they cannot, and will not pretend for a moment, that
there is any thing belonging to the nature of matter, to which these
qualities naturally adhere.

But to dilate no farther on a topic which, however it may excite the
ridicule of the inconsiderate, will suggest matter of furious
apprehension to all who form their opinions on the authority of the word
of God: thus brought as we are into captivity, and exposed to danger;
depraved and weakened within, and tempted from without, it might well
fill our hearts with anxiety to reflect, "that the day will come," when
"the Heavens being on fire shall be dissolved, and the elements shall
melt with fervent heat;" "when the dead, small and great, shall stand
before the tribunal of God;" and we shall have to give account of all
things done in the body. We are naturally prompted to turn over the page
of revelation with solicitude, in order to discover the qualities and
character of our Judge, and the probable principles of his
determination; but this only serves to turn painful apprehension into
fixed and certain terror.--First of the qualities of our Judge. As all
nature bears witness to his irresistible power, so we read in Scripture
that nothing can escape his observation, or elude his discovery; not our
actions only, but our most secret cogitations are open to his view. "He
is about our path and about our bed, and spieth out all our ways[9]."
"The Lord searcheth all hearts, and understandeth all the imaginations
of the thoughts[10]."--"And he will bring to light the hidden things of
darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the heart."

Now, hear his description and character and the rule of his award: "The
Lord our God is a consuming fire, even a jealous God."--"He is of purer
eyes than to behold iniquity."--"The soul that sinneth, it shall
die."--"The wages of sin is death." These positive declarations are
enforced by the accounts which, for our warning, we read in sacred
history, of the terrible vengeance of the Almighty: His punishment "the
angels who kept not their first estate, and whom he hath reserved in
everlasting chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day:"
The fate of Sodom and Gomorrah; the sentence issued against the
idolatrous nations of Canaan, and of which the execution was assigned to
the Israelites, by the express command of God, at their own peril in
case of disobedience: The ruin of Babylon, and of Tyre, and of Nineveh,
and of Jerusalem, prophetically denounced as the punishment of their
crimes, and taking place in an exact and terrible accordance with the
divine predictions. These are indeed matter of awful perusal, sufficient
surely to confound the fallacious confidence of any who, on the ground
that our Creator must be aware of our natural weakness, and must be of
course disposed to allow for it, should alledge that, though unable
indeed to justify ourselves in the sight of God, we need not give way to
such gloomy apprehensions, but might throw ourselves, with assured hope,
on the infinite benevolence of the Supreme Being. It is indeed true,
that with the threatenings of the word of God, there are mixed many
gracious declarations of pardon, on repentance, and thorough amendment.
But, alas! which of us is there, whose conscience must not reproach him
with having trifled with the long-suffering of God, and with having but
ill kept the resolutions of amendment, which he had some time or other
formed in the seasons of recollection and remorse?--And how is the
disquietude naturally excited by such a retrospect, confirmed and
heightened by passages like these? "Because I have called, and ye
refused; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded; but ye have
set at nought all my counsel, and would none of my reproof; I also will
laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your fear cometh: when your
fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind;
when distress and anguish cometh upon you: then shall they call upon me,
but I will not answer; they shall seek me early, but they shall not find
me: for that they hated knowledge, and did not chuse the fear of the
Lord[11]." The apprehensions, which must be excited by thus reading the
recorded judgments and awful language of Scripture, are confirmed to the
inquisitive and attentive mind, by a close observation of the moral
constitution of the world. Such a one will find occasion to remark, that
all, which has been suggested of the final consequences of vice, is in
strict analogy to what we may observe in the ordinary course of human
affairs, wherein it will appear, on a careful survey, that God has so
assigned to things their general tendencies, and established such an
order of causes and effects, as (however interrupted here below by
hindrances and obstructions apparently of a temporary nature) loudly
proclaim the principles of his moral government, and strongly suggest,
that vice and imprudence will finally terminate in misery[12]. Not that
this species of proof was wanted; for that which we must acknowledge, on
weighing the evidence, to be a revelation from God, requires not the aid
of such a confirmation: but yet, as this accordance might be expected
between the words and the works, the past and the future ordinations of
the same Almighty Being, it is no idle speculation to remark, that the
visible constitution of things in the world around us, falls in with the
representations here given from Scripture of the dreadful consequences
of vice, nay even of what is commonly termed inconsiderateness and
imprudence.

If such then be indeed our sad condition, what is to be done? Is there
no hope? Nothing left for us, "but a fearful looking for of judgment,
and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries[13]?" Blessed
be God! we are not shut up irrecoverably in this sad condition: "Turn
you to the strong hold, ye prisoners of hope;" hear one who proclaims
his designation, "to heal the broken-hearted, to preach liberty to the
captives, and recovering of sight to the blind." They who have formed a
true notion of their lost and helpless state, will most gladly listen to
the sound, and most justly estimate the value of such a deliverance. And
this is the cause, which renders it of such pressing moment not to pass
cursorily over those important topics of the original and superinduced
corruption, and weakness of man; a discussion painful and humiliating
to the pride of human nature, to which the mind lends itself with
difficulty, and hearkens with a mixture of anger and disgust; but well
suited to our case, and like the distasteful lessons of adversity,
permanently useful in its consequences. It is here, never let it be
forgotten, that our foundation must be laid; otherwise our
superstructure, whatever we may think of it, will one day or other prove
tottering and insecure. This is therefore no metaphysical speculation,
but a practical matter: Slight and superficial conceptions of our state
of natural degradation, and of our insufficiency to recover from it of
ourselves, fall in too well with our natural inconsiderateness, and
produce that fatal insensibility to the divine warning to "flee from the
wrath to come," which we cannot but observe to prevail so generally.
Having no due sense of the malignity of our disease, and of its dreadful
issue, we do not set ourselves to work in earnest to obtain the remedy,
as to a business arduous indeed, but indispensable: for it must ever be
carefully remembered, that this deliverance is not _forced on us_, but
_offered to us_; we are furnished indeed with every help, and are always
to bear in mind, that we are unable of ourselves to will or to do
rightly; but we are plainly admonished to "work out our own salvation
with fear and trembling[14]."--Watchful, for we are encompassed with
dangers; "putting on the whole armour of God," for "we are beset with
enemies."

May we be enabled to shake off that lethargy which is so apt to creep
upon us! For this end, a deep practical conviction of our natural
depravity and weakness will be found of eminent advantage. As it is by
this we must at first be rouzed from our fallacious security, so by this
we must be kept wakeful and active unto the end. Let us therefore make
it our business to have this doctrine firmly seated in our
understandings, and radically worked into our hearts. With a view to the
former of these objects, we should often seriously and attentively
consider the firm grounds on which it rests. It is plainly made known to
us by the light of nature, and irresistibly enforced on us by the
dictates of our unassisted understandings. But lest there should be any
so obstinately dull, as not to discern the force of the evidence
suggested to our reason, and confirmed by all experience, or rather so
heedless as not to notice it, the authoritative stamp of Revelation is
superadded, as we have seen, to complete the proof; and we must
therefore be altogether inexcusable, if we still remain unconvinced by
such accumulated mass of argument.

But we must not only _assent_ to the doctrine clearly, but _feel_ it
strongly. To this end, let the power of habit be called in to our aid.
Let us accustom ourselves to refer to our natural depravity, as to their
primary cause, the sad instances of vice and folly of which we read, or
which we see around us, or to which we feel the propensities in our own
bosoms; ever vigilant and distrustful of ourselves, and looking with an
eye of kindness and pity on the faults and infirmities of others, whom
we should learn to regard with the same tender concern as that with
which the sick are used to sympathize with those who are suffering under
the same distemper as themselves. This lesson once well acquired, we
shall feel the benefit of it in all our future progress; and though it
be a lesson which we are slow to learn, it is one in which study and
experience, the incidents of every day, and every fresh observation of
the workings of our own hearts, will gradually concur to perfect us. Let
it not, after all then, be our reproach, and at length our ruin, that
these abundant means of instruction are possessed in vain.


SECTION III.

_Corruption of Human Nature.--Objection._

But there is one difficulty still behind, more formidable than all the
rest. The pride of man is loth to be humbled. Forced to abandon the plea
of innocence, and pressed so closely that he can no longer escape from
the conclusion to which we would drive him, some more bold objector
faces about and stands at bay, endeavouring to justify what he cannot
deny, "Whatever I am," he contends, "I am what my Creator made me. I
inherited a nature, you yourself confess, depraved, and prone to evil:
how then can I withstand the temptations to sin by which I am environed?
If this plea cannot establish my innocence, it must excuse or at least
extenuate my guilt. Frail and weak as I am, a Being of infinite justice
and goodness will never try me by a rule, which however equitable in the
case of creatures of a higher nature, is altogether disproportionate to
mine."

Let not my readers be alarmed! The writer is not going to enter into the
discussion of the grand question concerning the origin of moral evil,
or to attempt at large to reconcile its existence and consequent
punishment with the acknowledged attributes and perfections of God.
These are questions, of which, if one may judge from the little success
with which the acutest and profoundest reasoners have been ever
labouring to solve the difficulties they contain, the full and clear
comprehension is above the intellect of man. Yet, as such an objection
as that which has been stated is sometimes heard from the mouths of
professed Christians, it must not be passed by without a few short
observations.

Were the language in question to be addressed to us by an avowed
sceptic, though it might not be very difficult to expose to him the
futility of _his_ reasonings, we should almost despair of satisfying him
of the soundness of our own. We should perhaps suggest impossibilities,
which might stand in the way of such a system as he would establish: we
might indeed point out wherein (arguing from concessions which he would
freely make) his pre-conceptions concerning the conduct of the Supreme
Being, had been in fact already contradicted, particularly by the
existence at all of natural or moral evil: and if thus proved erroneous
in one instance, why might they not be so likewise in another? But
though by these and similar arguments we might at length silence our
objector, we could not much expect to bring him over to our opinions. We
should probably do better, if we were to endeavour rather to draw him
off from these dark and slippery regions, (slippery in truth they are to
every human foot) and to contend with him, where we might tread with
firmness and freedom, on sure ground, and in the light of day. Then we
might fairly lay before him all the various arguments for the truth of
our holy religion; arguments which have been sufficient to satisfy the
wisest, and the best, and the ablest of men. We should afterwards
perhaps insist on the abundant confirmation Christianity receives from
its being exactly suited to the nature and wants of man; and we might
conclude, with fairly putting it to him, whether all this weight of
evidence were to be overbalanced by this one difficulty, on a subject so
confessedly high and mysterious, considering too that he must allow, we
see but a part (O how small a part!) of the universal creation of God,
and that our faculties are wholly incompetent to judge of the schemes of
his infinite wisdom. This, if the writer may be permitted to offer his
own judgment, is (at least in general) the best mode, in the case of the
objection now in question, of dealing with unbelievers; and to adopt the
contrary plan, seems somewhat like that of any one, who having to
convince some untutored Indian of the truth of the Copernican system,
instead of beginning with plain and simple propositions, and leading him
on to what is more abstruse and remote, should state to him at the
outset some astonishing problems, to which the understanding can only
yield its slow assent, when constrained by the decisive force of
demonstration. The novice, instead of lending himself to such a mistaken
method of instruction, would turn away in disgust, and be only hardened
against his preceptor. But it must be remembered, that the present work
is addressed to those who acknowledge the authority of the holy
Scriptures. And in order to convince all such that there is somewhere or
other, a fallacy in our objector's reasoning, it will be sufficient to
establish that though the word of God clearly asserts the justice and
goodness of the Supreme Being, and also the natural depravity of man,
yet it no less clearly lays down that this natural depravity shall never
be admitted as an excuse for sin, but that "they which have done evil,
shall rise to the resurrection of damnation[15]."--"That the wicked
shall be turned into hell, and all the people that forget God." And it
is worthy of remark, that, as if for the very purpose of more
effectually silencing those unbelieving doubts which are ever springing
up in the human heart, our blessed Saviour, though the messenger of
peace and good will to man, has again and again repeated these awful
denunciations.

Nor (it must also be remarked) are the holy Scriptures less clear and
full in guarding us against supposing our sins, or the dreadful
consequences of them, to be chargeable on God.--"Let no man say when he
is tempted, I am tempted of God: for God cannot be tempted with evil,
neither tempteth he any man[16]:" "The Lord is not willing that any
should perish[17]." And again, where the idea is repelled as injurious
to his character,--"Have I any pleasure at all that the wicked should
die? saith the Lord God; and not that he should return from his ways,
and live[18]?" "For I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth,
saith the Lord God[19]." Indeed almost every page of the word of God
contains some warning or invitation to sinners; and all these, to a
considerate mind, must unquestionably be proofs of our present position.

It has been the more necessary not to leave unnoticed the objection
which we have been now refuting, because, where not admitted to such an
unqualified extent as altogether to take away the moral responsibility
of man, and when not avowed in the daring language in which it has been
above stated; if may frequently be observed to exist in an inferior
degree: and often, when not distinctly formed into shape, it lurks in
secret, diffusing a general cloud of doubt or unbelief, or lowering our
standard of right, or whispering fallacious comfort, and producing a
ruinous tranquillity. Not to anticipate what will more properly come
under discussion, when we consider the nature and strictness of
practical Christianity; let us here, however, remark, that though the
holy Scriptures so clearly state the natural corruption and weakness of
man, yet they never, in the most minute degree, countenance, but
throughout directly oppose, the supposition to which we are often too
forward to listen, that this corruption and weakness will be admitted as
lowering the demands of divine justice, and in some sort palliating our
transgressions of the laws of God. It would not be difficult to shew
that such a notion is at war with the whole scheme of redemption by the
atonement of Christ. But perhaps it may be enough when any such
suggestions as those which we are condemning force themselves into the
imagination of a Christian, to recommend it to him to silence them by
what is their best practical answer: that if our natural condition be
depraved and weak, our temptations numerous, and our Almighty Judge
infinitely holy; yet that the offers to penitent sinners of pardon and
grace, and strength, are universal and unlimited. Let it not however
surprise us, if in all this there seem to be involved difficulties which
we cannot fully comprehend. How many such every where present
themselves! Scarcely is there an object around us, that does not afford
endless matter of doubt and argument. The meanest reptile which crawls
on the earth, nay, every herb and flower which we behold, baffles the
imbecility of our limited inquiries. All nature calls upon us to be
humble. Can it then be surprising if we are at a loss on this question,
which respects, not the properties of matter, or of numbers, but the
counsels and ways of him whose "Understanding is infinite[20]," "whose
judgments are declared to be unsearchable, and his ways past finding
out[21]?" In this our ignorance however, we may calmly repose ourselves
on his own declaration, "That though clouds and darkness are round about
him, yet righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his
throne[22]." Let it also be remembered, that if in Christianity some
things are difficult, that which it most concerns us to know, is plain
and obvious. To this it is true wisdom to attach ourselves, assenting to
what is revealed where above our faculties, we do not say contradictory
to them, on the credit of what is clearly discerned, and satisfactorily
established. In truth, we are all perhaps too apt to plunge into depths,
which it is beyond our power to fathom; and it was to warn us against
this very error, that the inspired writer, when he has been threatening
the people, whom God had selected as the objects of his special favour,
with the most dreadful punishments, if they should forsake the law of
the Lord, and has introduced surrounding nations as asking the meaning
of the severe infliction, winds up the whole with this instructive
admonition; "Secret things belong unto the Lord our God: but those which
are revealed belong unto us, and to our children for ever, that we may
_do_ all the words of this law[23]."

To any one who is seriously impressed with a sense of the critical state
in which we are here placed, a short and uncertain space in which to
make our peace with God, and then the last judgment, and an eternity of
unspeakable happiness or misery, it is indeed an awful and an affecting
spectacle, to see men thus busying themselves in these vain speculations
of an arrogant curiosity, and trifling with their dearest, their
everlasting interests. It is but a feeble illustration of this exquisite
folly, to compare it to the conduct of some convicted rebel, who, when
brought into the presence of his Sovereign, instead of seizing the
occasion to sue for mercy, should even neglect and trifle with the
pardon which should be offered to him, and insolently employ himself in
prying into his Sovereign's designs, and criticising his counsels. Our
case indeed is, in another point of comparison, but too much like that
of the convicted rebel. But there is this grand difference--that at the
best, his success must be uncertain, ours, if it be not our own fault,
is sure; and while, on the one hand, our guilt is unspeakably greater
than that of any rebel against an earthly monarch; so, on the other, we
know that our Sovereign is "Long-suffering, and easy to be intreated;"
more ready to grant, than we to ask, forgiveness. Well then may we adopt
the language of the poet:

    What better can we do, than - - - prostrate fall
    Before him reverent; and there confess
    Humbly our faults, and pardon beg; with tears
    Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air
    Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign
    Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek?




CHAPTER III.

_Chief defects of the Religious System of the bulk of professed
Christians, in what regards our Lord Jesus Christ, and the Holy
Spirit--with a Dissertation concerning the use of the Passions in
Religion._


SECT. I

SCRIPTURE DOCTRINES.

That "God so loved the world, as of his tender mercy to give his only
Son Jesus Christ for our redemption:"

That our blessed Lord willingly left the glory of the Father, and was
made man;

That "he was despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows, and
acquainted with grief:"

That "he was wounded for our transgressions; that he was bruised for our
iniquities:"

That "the Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all:"

That at length "he humbled himself even to the death of the Cross, for
us miserable sinners; to the end that all who with hearty repentance and
true faith, should come to him, might not perish, but have everlasting
life:"

That he "is now at the right hand of God, making intercession" for his
people:

That "being reconciled to God by the death of his Son, we may come
boldly unto the throne of grace, to obtain mercy and find grace to help
in time of need:"

That our Heavenly Father "will surely give his Holy Spirit to them that
ask him:"

That "the Spirit of God must dwell in us;" and that "if any man have not
the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his:"

That by this divine influence "we are to be renewed in knowledge after
the image of him who created us," and "to be filled with the fruits of
righteousness, to the praise of the glory of his grace;"--that "being
thus made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light," we shall
sleep in the Lord; and that when the last trumpet shall sound, this
corruption shall put on incorruption--and that being at length perfected
after his likeness, we shall be admitted into his heavenly kingdom.

These are the leading Doctrines concerning our Saviour, and the Holy
Spirit, which are taught in the Holy Scriptures, and held by the Church
of England. The truth of them, agreeably to our general plan, will be
taken for granted. Few of those, who have been used to join in the
established form of worship, can have been, it is hoped, so inattentive,
as to be ignorant of these grand truths, which are to be found every
where dispersed throughout our excellent Liturgy. Would to God it could
be presumed, with equal confidence, that all who assent to them in
terms, discern their force and excellency in the understanding, and feel
their power in the affections, and their transforming influence in the
heart. What lively emotions are they calculated to excite in us of deep
self-abasement, and abhorrence of our sins; and of humble hope, and firm
faith, and heavenly joy, and ardent love, and active unceasing
gratitude!

But here, it is to be feared, will be found the grand defect of the
religion of the bulk of professed Christians; a defect, like the palsy
at the heart, which, while in its first attack, it changes but little
the exterior appearance of the body, extinguishes the internal principle
of heat and motion, and soon extends its benumbing influence to the
remotest fibres of the frame. This defect is closely connected with that
which was the chief subject of the last chapter: "they that are whole
need not a physician, but they that are sick." Had we duly felt the
burthen of our sins, that they are a load which our own strength is
wholly unable to support, and that the weight of them must finally sink
us into perdition, our hearts would have danced at the sound of the
gracious invitation, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest[24]." But in those who have scarcely
felt their sins as any incumbrance, it would be mere affectation to
pretend to very exalted conceptions of the value and acceptableness of
the proffered deliverance. This pretence accordingly, is seldom now kept
up; and the most superficial observer, comparing the sentiments and
views of the bulk of the Christian world, with the articles still
retained in their creed, and with the strong language of Scripture, must
be struck with the amazing disproportion.

To pass over the throng from whose minds Religion is altogether excluded
by the business or the vanities of life, how is it with the more decent
and moral? To what criterion shall we appeal? Are their hearts really
filled with these things, and warmed by the love which they are adapted
to inspire? Then surely their minds are apt to stray to them almost
unseasonably; or at least to hasten back to them with eagerness, when
escaped from the estrangment imposed by the necessary cares and business
of life. He was a masterly describer of human nature, who thus
pourtrayed the characters of an undissembled affection;

    "Unstaid and fickle in all other things,
    Save in the constant image of the object,
    That is beloved."

"And how," it may be perhaps replied, "do you know, but that the minds
of these people are thus occupied? Can you look into the bosoms of men?"
Let us appeal to a test to which we resorted in a former instance. "Out
of the abundance of the heart," it has been pronounced, "the mouth
speaketh."--Take these persons then in some well selected hour, and lead
the conversation to the subject of Religion. The utmost which can be
effected is, to bring them to talk of things in the gross. They appear
lost in generalities; there is nothing precise and determinate, nothing
which implies a mind used to the contemplation of its object. In vain
you strive to bring them to speak on that topic, which one might expect
to be ever uppermost in the hearts of redeemed sinners. They elude all
your endeavours; and if you make mention of it yourself, it is received
with no very cordial welcome at least, if not with unequivocal disgust;
it is at the best a forced and formal discussion. The excellence of our
Saviour's moral precepts, the kindness and simplicity, and self-denial
and unblemished purity of his life, his patience and meekness in the
hour of death, cannot indeed be spoken of but with admiration, when
spoken of at all, as they have often extorted unwilling praise from the
most daring and malignant infidels. But are not these mentioned as
qualities in the abstract, rather than as the perfections and lineaments
of our patron and benefactor and friend, "who loved us, and gave himself
for us;" of him "who died for _our_ offences, and rose again for _our_
justification;" who is even now at the "right hand of God, making
intercession for _us_?" Who would think that the kindness and humanity,
and self-denial, and patience in suffering, which we so drily commend,
had been exerted towards _ourselves_, in acts of more than finite
benevolence of which _we_ were to derive the benefit, in condescensions
and labours submitted to for _our_ sakes, in pain and ignominy, endured
for _our_ deliverance?

But these grand truths are not suffered to vanish altogether from our
remembrance. Thanks to the compilers of our Liturgy, more than to too
many of the occupiers of our pulpits, they are forced upon our notice in
their just bearings and connections, as often as we attend the service
of the church. Yet is it too much to affirm, that though there
entertained with decorum, as what belong to the day and place, and
occupation, they are yet too generally heard of with little interest;
like the legendary tales of some venerable historian, or other
transactions of great antiquity, if not of doubtful credit, which,
though important to our ancestors, relate to times and circumstances so
different from our own, that we cannot be expected to take any great
concern in them? We hear of them therefore with apparent indifference;
we repeat them almost as it were by rote, assuming by turns the language
of the deepest humiliation and of the warmest thankfulness, with a calm
unaltered composure; and when the service of the day is ended, they are
dismissed altogether from our thoughts, till on the return of another
Sunday, a fresh attendance on public worship gives occasion for the
renewed expressions of our periodical gratitude. In noticing such
lukewarmness as this, surely the writer were to be pardoned, if he were
to be betrayed into some warmth of condemnation. The Unitarian and
Socinian indeed, who deny, or explain away the peculiar doctrines of the
Gospel, may be allowed to feel, and talk of these grand truths with
little emotion. But in those who profess a sincere belief in them, this
coldness is insupportable. The greatest possible services of man to man
must appear contemptible, when compared with "the unspeakable mercies of
Christ:" mercies so dearly bought, so freely bestowed--A deliverance
from eternal misery--The gift of "a crown of glory, that fadeth not
away." Yet, what judgment should we form of such conduct, as is here
censured, in the case of any one who had received some signal services
from a fellow creature? True love is an ardent, and an active
principle--a cold, a dormant, a phlegmatic gratitude, are contractions
in terms. When these generous affections really exist in vigour, are we
not ever fond of dwelling on the value, and enumerating the merits of
our benefactor? How are we moved when any thing is asserted to his
disparagement! How do we delight to tell of his kindness! With what
pious care do we preserve any memorial of him, which we may happen to
possess? How gladly do we seize any opportunity of rendering to him, or
to those who are dear to him, any little good offices, which, though in
themselves of small intrinsic worth, may testify the sincerity of our
thankfulness! The very mention of his name will cheer the heart, and
light up the countenance! And if he be now no more, and if he had made
it his dying request that, in a way of his own appointment, we would
occasionally meet to keep the memory of his person, and of his services
in lively exercise; how should we resent the idea of failing in the
performance of so sacred an obligation!

Such are the genuine characters, such the natural workings of a lively
gratitude. And we believe, without doing violence to the most
established principles of human nature, that where the _effects_ are so
different, the _internal principle_ is in truth the same?

If the love of Christ be thus languid in the bulk of nominal Christians,
their joy and trust in him cannot be expected to be very vigorous. Here
again we find reason to remark, that there is nothing distinct, nothing
specific, nothing which implies a mind acquainted with the nature, and
familiarized with the use of the Christian's privileges, habitually
solacing itself with the hopes held out by the Gospel, and animated by
the sense of its high relations, and its glorious reversion.

The doctrine of the sanctifying operations of the Holy Spirit, appears
to have met with still worse treatment. It would be to convey a very
inadequate idea of the scantiness of the conceptions on this head, of
the bulk of the Christian world, to affirm merely, that they are too
little conscious of the inefficacy of their own unassisted endeavours
after holiness of heart and life, and that they are not daily employed
in humbly and diligently using the appointed means for the reception and
cultivation of the divine assistance. It would hardly be to go beyond
the truth to assert, that for the most part their notions on this
subject are so confused and faint, that they can scarcely be said in any
fair sense to believe the doctrine at all.

The writer of these sheets is by no means unapprized of the objections
which he may expect from those, whose opinions he has been so freely
condemning. He is prepared to hear it urged, that often where there have
been the strongest pretences to the religious affections, of which the
want has now been censured, there has been little or nothing of the
reality of them; and that even omitting the instances (which however
have been but too frequent) of studied hypocrisy, what have assumed to
themselves the name of religious affections, have been merely the
flights of a lively imagination, or the working of a heated brain; in
particular, that this love of our Saviour, which has been so warmly
recommended, is no better than a vain fervor, which dwells only in the
disordered mind of the enthusiast. That Religion is of a more steady
nature; of a more sober and manly quality; and that she rejects with
scorn, the support of a mere feeling, so volatile and indeterminate, so
trivial and useless, as that with which we would associate her; a
feeling varying in different men, and even in the same man at different
times, according to the accidental flow of the animal spirits; a
feeling, lastly, of which it may perhaps be said, we are from our very
nature, hardly susceptible towards an invisible Being.

"As to the operations of the Holy Spirit," it may probably be further
urged, that "it is perhaps scarcely worth while to spend much time in
inquiring into the theory, when, in practice at least, it is manifest,
that there is no sure criterion whereby any one can ascertain the
reality of them, even in his own case, much less in that of another. All
we know is, that pretenders to these extraordinary assistances, have
never been wanting to abuse the credulity of the vulgar, and to try the
patience of the wise. From the canting hypocrites and wild fanatics of
the last century, to their less dangerous, chiefly because less
successful, descendants of the present day, we hear the same unwarranted
claims, the same idle tales, the same low cant; and we may discern not
seldom the same mean artifices and mercenary ends. The doctrine, to say
the best of it, can only serve to favour the indolence of man, while
professing to furnish him with a compendious method of becoming wise and
good, it supersedes the necessity of his own personal labours. Quitting
therefore all these slothful and chimerical speculations, it is true
wisdom to attach ourselves to what is more solid and practical; to the
work which you will not yourself deny to be sufficiently difficult to
find us of itself full employment: the work of rectifying the disorders
of the passions, and of implanting and cultivating the virtues of the
moral character."--"It is the service of the understanding which God
requires of us, which you would degrade into a mere matter of bodily
temperament, and imaginary impulses. You are contending for that which
not only is altogether unworthy of our Divine Master, but which, with
considerate men, has ever brought his religion into suspicion and
disrepute, and under a shew of honouring him, serves only to injure and
discredit his cause." Our Objector, warming as he proceeds, will perhaps
assume a more impatient tone. "Have not these doctrines," he may
exclaim, "been ever perverted to purposes the most disgraceful to the
Religion of Jesus? If you want an instance, look to the standard of the
inquisition, and behold the pious Dominicans torturing their miserable
victims for the Love of Christ[25]. Or would you rather see the effects
of your principles on a larger scale, and _by wholesale_ (if the phrase
may be pardoned;) cast your eyes across the Atlantic, and let your zeal
be edified by the holy activity of Cortez and Pizarro, and their
apostles of the western hemisphere. To what else have been owing the
extensive ravages of national persecutions, and religious wars and
crusades; whereby rapacity, and pride, and cruelty, sheltering
themselves (sometimes even from the furious bigots themselves) under the
mask of this specious principle, have so often afflicted the world? The
Prince of Peace has been made to assume the port of a ferocious
conqueror, and forgetting the message of good will to men, has issued
forth like a second Scourge of the Earth[26], to plague and desolate the
human species."


_Objection discussed._

That the sacred name of Religion has been too often prostituted to the
most detestable purposes; that furious bigots and bloody persecutors,
and self-interested hypocrites of all qualities and dimensions, from the
rapacious leader of an army, to the canting oracle of a congregation,
have falsely called themselves Christians, are melancholy and
humiliating truths, which (as none so deeply lament them) none will more
readily admit, than they who best understand the nature, and are most
concerned for the honour of Christianity. We are ready to acknowledge
also without dispute, that the religious affections, and the doctrine of
divine assistances, have almost at all times been more or less disgraced
by the false pretences and extravagant conduct of wild fanatics and
brain-sick enthusiasts. All this, however, is only as it happens in
other instances, wherein the depravity of man perverts the bounty of
God. Why is it here only to be made an argument, that there is danger of
abuse? So is there also in the case of all the potent and operative
principles, whether in the natural or moral world. Take for an instance
the powers and properties of matter. These were doubtless designed by
Providence for our comfort and well-being; yet they are often
misapplied to trifling purposes, and still more frequently turned into
so many agents of misery and death. On this fact indeed is founded the
well-known maxim, not more trite than just, that "the best things when
corrupted become the worst;" a maxim which is especially just in the
instance of Religion. For in this case it is not merely, as in some
others, that a great power, when mischievously applied, must be hurtful
in proportion to its strength; but that the very principle on which in
general we depend for restraining and retarding the progress of evil,
not only ceases to interpose any kindly check, but is actively operative
in the opposite direction. But will you therefore discard Religion
altogether? The experiment was lately tried in a neighbouring country,
and professedly on this very ground. The effects however with which it
was attended, do not much encourage its repetition. But suppose Religion
were discarded, then Liberty remains to plague the world; a power which
though when well employed, the dispenser of light and happiness, has
been often proved, and eminently in this very instance, to be capable
when abused, of becoming infinitely mischievous. Well then, extinguish
Liberty. Then what more abused by false pretenders, than Patriotism?
Well, extinguish Patriotism. But then the wicked career to which we have
adverted, must have been checked but for Courage. Blot out Courage--and
so might you proceed to extinguish one by one, Reason, and Speech, and
Memory, and all the discriminating prerogatives of man. But perhaps more
than enough has been already urged in reply to an objection, which
bottoms on ground so indefensible, as that which would equally warrant
our condemning any physical or moral faculty altogether, on account of
its being occasionally abused.

As to the position of our Opponent, that there is no way whereby the
validity of any pretensions to the religious affections may be
ascertained; it must partly be admitted. Doubtless we are not able
always to read the hearts of men, and to discover their real characters;
and hence it is, that we in some measure lie open to the false and
hypocritical pretences which are brought forward against us so
triumphantly. But then these pretences no more prove all similar claims
to be founded in falsehood and hypocrisy, than there having been many
false and interested pretenders to wisdom and honesty, would prove that
there can be no such thing as a wise or an honest man. We do not argue
thus but where our reason is under a corrupt bias. Why should we be so
much surprised and scandalized, when these importers are detected in the
church of Christ? It is no more than our blessed Master himself taught
us to expect; and when the old difficulty is stated, "didst thou not sow
good seed in thy field, whence then hath it tares?" his own answer
furnishes the best solution,--"an enemy hath done this."--Hypocrisy is
indeed _detestable_, and enthusiasm sufficiently mischievous to justify
our guarding against its approaches with jealous care. Yet it may not be
improper to take this occasion for observing, that we are now and then
apt to draw too unfavourable conclusions from unpleasant appearances,
which may perhaps be chiefly or altogether owing to gross or confused
conceptions, or to a disgusting formality of demeanor, or to
indeterminate, low, or improperly familiar expressions. The mode and
language, in which a vulgar man will express himself on the subject of
Religion, will probably be vulgar, and it is difficult for people of
literature and refinement not to be unreasonably shocked by such
vulgarities. But we should at least endeavour to correct the rash
judgments which we may be disposed to form on these occasions, and
should learn to recognize and to prize a sound texture and just
configuration, though disguised beneath a homely or uncouth drapery. It
was an Apostle who declared that he had come (to the learned and
accomplished Grecians too) "not with excellency of speech, or the wisdom
of words." From these he had studiously abstained, lest he should have
seemed to owe his success rather to the graces of oratory, than to the
efficacy of his doctrines, and to the divine power with which they were
accompanied. Even in our own times, when, the extraordinary operations
and miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit having ceased, the necessity of
study and preparation, and of attention to manner as well as matter, in
order to qualify men to become teachers of religion, are no longer
superseded, yet it is no more than an act of justice explicitly to
remark, that a body of Christians, which from the peculiarly offensive
grossnesses of language in use among them, had, not without reason,
excited suspicions of the very worst nature, have since reclaimed their
character[27], and have perhaps excelled all mankind in solid and
unequivocal proofs of the love of Christ, and of the most ardent, and
active, and patient zeal in his service. It is a zeal tempered with
prudence, softened with meekness, soberly aiming at great ends by the
gradual operation of well adapted means, supported by a courage which no
danger can intimidate, and a quiet constancy which no hardships can
exhaust.


SECT. II.

_On the Admission of the Passions into Religion._

The objection of our Opponent, that by insisting on the obligation of
making our blessed Saviour the object of our religious affections, we
are degrading the worship of the understanding, and are substituting and
raising up a set of mere feelings in its stead, is one which deserves
our most serious consideration. If it be just, it is decisive; for ours
must be unquestionably "a reasonable service[28]." The Objector must
mean, either, that these affections are unreasonable in themselves, or
that they are misplaced in religion. He can scarcely however intend that
the affections are in their own nature unreasonable. To suppose him to
maintain this position, were to suppose him ignorant of what every
schoolboy knows of the mechanism of the human mind. We shall therefore
take it for granted, that this cannot be his meaning, and proceed to
examine the latter part of the alternative. Here also it may either be
intended, that the affections are misplaced in Religion, _generally_, or
that our blessed Saviour is not the proper object of them. The strain of
our Objector's language, no less than the objections themselves which
he has urged, render it evident that (perhaps without excluding the
latter position) the former is in full possession of his mind.

This notion of the affections being out of place in Religion, is indeed
an opinion which appears to be generally prevalent. The affections are
regarded as the strong-holds of enthusiasm. It is therefore judged most
expedient to act, as prudent generals are used to do, when they raze the
fortress, or spike up the cannon, which are likely to fall into the
hands of an enemy. Mankind are apt to be the dupes of misapplied terms;
and the progress of the persuasion now in question, has been
considerably aided by an abuse of language, not sufficiently checked in
its first advances, whereby that species of Religion which is opposite
to the warm and affectionate kind, has been suffered almost without
disturbance, to usurp to itself the epithet of _rational_. But let not
this claim be too hastily admitted. Let the position in question be
thoroughly and impartially discussed, and it will appear, if I mistake
not, to be a gross and pernicious error. If amputation be indeed
indispensable, we must submit to it; but we may surely expect to be
heard with patience, or rather with favour and indulgence, while we
proceed to shew that there is no need to have recourse to so desperate
an enemy. The discussion will necessarily draw us into length. But our
prolixity will not be greater than may well be claimed by the importance
of the subject, especially as it scarcely seems to have hitherto
sufficiently engaged the attention of writers on the subject of
Religion.

It cannot methinks but afford a considerable presumption against the
doctrine which we are about to combat, that it proposes to exclude at
once from the service of Religion so grand a part of the composition of
man; that in this our noblest employment it condemns as worse than
useless, all the most active and operative principles of our nature. One
cannot but suppose that like the organs of the body, so the elementary
qualities and original passions of the mind were all given us for
valuable purposes by our all-wise Creator. It is indeed one of the sad
evidences of our fallen condition, that they are now perpetually
tumultuating and rebelling against the powers of reason and conscience,
to which they should be subject. But even if Revelation had been silent,
natural reason might have in some degree presumed, that it would be the
effect of a Religion which should come from God, completely to repair
the consequences of our superinduced depravity. The schemes of mere
human wisdom had indeed tacitly confessed, that this was a task beyond
their strength. Of the two most celebrated systems of philosophy, the
one expressly confirmed the usurpation of the passions, while the other,
despairing of being able to regulate, saw nothing left but to extinguish
them. The former acted like a weak government, which gives independence
to a rebellious province, which it cannot reduce. The latter formed its
boasted scheme merely upon the plan of that barbarous policy, which
composes the troubles of a turbulent land by the extermination of its
inhabitants. This is the calm, not of order, but of inaction; it is not
tranquillity, but the stillness of death;

    Trucidare falso nomine imperium, & ubi solitudinem faciunt,
    pacem appellant--

Christianity, we might hope, would not be driven to any such wretched
expedients; nor in fact does she condescend to them. They only thus
undervalue her strength, who mistake her character, and are ignorant of
her powers. It is her peculiar glory, and her main office, to bring all
the faculties of our nature into their just subordination and
dependence; that so the whole man, complete in all his functions, may be
restored to the true ends of his being, and be devoted, entire and
harmonious, to the service and glory of God. "My son, give me thine
_heart_"--"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy _heart_:"--Such
are the direct and comprehensive claims which are made on us in the holy
Scriptures. We can scarcely indeed look into any part of the sacred
volume without meeting abundant proofs, that it is the religion of the
Affections which God particularly requires. Love, Zeal, Gratitude, Joy,
Hope, Trust, are each of them specified; and are not allowed to us as
weaknesses, but enjoined on us as our bounden duty, and commended to us
as our acceptable worship. Where passages are so numerous, there would
be no end of particular citations. Let it be sufficient therefore, to
refer the reader to the word of God. There let him observe too, that as
the lively exercise of the passions towards their legitimate object, is
always spoken of with praise, so a cold, hard, unfeeling heart is
represented as highly criminal. Lukewarmness is stated to be the object
of God's disgust and aversion; zeal and love, of his favour and delight;
and the taking away of the heart of stone and the implanting of a warmer
and more tender nature in its stead, is specifically promised as the
effect of his returning favour, and the work of his renewing grace. It
is the prayer of an inspired teacher, in behalf of those for whom he was
most interested, "that their love" (already acknowledged to be great)
"might abound yet more and more:" Those modes of worship are set forth
and prescribed, which are best calculated to excite the dormant
affections, and to maintain them in lively exercise; and the aids of
music and singing are expressly superadded to increase their effect. If
we look to the most eminent of the Scripture Characters, we shall find
them warm, zealous, and affectionate. When engaged in their favourite
work of celebrating the goodness of their Supreme Benefactor, their
souls appear to burn within them, their hearts kindle into rapture; the
powers of language are inadequate to the expression of their transports;
and they call on all nature to swell the chorus, and to unite with them
in hallelujahs of gratitude, and joy, and praise. The man after God's
own heart most of all abounds in these glowing effusions; and his
compositions appear to have been given us in order to set the tone, as
it were, to all succeeding generations. Accordingly (to quote the words
of a late excellent prelate[29], who was himself warmed with the same
heavenly flame) "in the language of this divine book, the praises of the
church have been offered up to the Throne of Grace from age to age."
Again, when it pleased God to check the future apostle of the Gentiles
in his wild career, and to make him a monument of transforming grace;
was the force of his affections diminished, or was it not only that
their direction was changed? He brought his affections entire and
unabated into the service of his blessed Master. His zeal now burned
even with an increase of brightness; and no intenseness, no continuance
of suffering could allay its ardor, or damp the fervors of his
triumphant exultations. Finally--The worship and service of the
glorified spirits in Heaven, is not represented to us a cold
intellectual investigation, but as the worship and service of gratitude
and love. And surely it will not be disputed, that it should be even
here the humble endeavour of those, who are promised while on earth "to
be made meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light,"
to bring their hearts into a capacity for joining in those everlasting
praises.

BUT it may not be unadvisable for the writer here to guard against a
mistaken supposition, from which the mind of our Objector by no means
appears exempt, that the force of the religious affections is to be
mainly estimated (I had almost said by the thermometer) by the degree of
mere animal fervor, by ardors, and transports, and raptures, of which,
from constitutional temperament, a person may be easily susceptible; or
into which daily experience must convince us, that people of strong
conceptions and of warm passions may work themselves without much
difficulty, where their hearts are by no means truly or deeply
interested. Every tolerable actor can attest the truth of this remark.
These high degrees of the passions bad men may experience, good men may
want. They may be affected; they may be genuine; but whether genuine or
affected, they form not the true standard by which the real nature or
strength of the religious affections is to be determined. To ascertain
these points, we must examine, whether they appear to be grounded in
knowledge, to have their root in strong and just conceptions of the
great and manifold excellences of their object, or to be ignorant,
unmeaning, or vague: whether they are natural and easy, or constrained
and forced; wakeful and apt to fix on their great objects, delighting in
their proper nutriment (if the expression may be allowed) the exercises
of prayer and praise, and religious contemplation; or voluntarily
omitting offered occasions of receiving it, looking forward to them with
little expectation, looking back on them with little complacency, and
being disappointed of them with little regret: by observing whether
these religious affections are merely occasional visitants, or the
abiding inmates of the soul: whether they have got the mastery over the
vicious passions and propensities, with which in their origin, and
nature, and tendency, they are at open variance; or whether if the
victory be not yet complete, the war is at least constant, and the
breach irreconcilable: whether they moderate and regulate all the
inferior appetites and desires which are culpable only in their excess,
thus striving to reign in the bosom with a settled undisputed
predominance: by examining, whether above all they manifest themselves
by prompting to the active discharge of the duties of life, the
personal, and domestic, and relative, and professional, and social, and
civil duties. Here the wideness of their range and the universality of
their influence, will generally serve to distinguish them from those
partial efforts of diligence and self-denial, to which mankind are
prompted by subordinate motives. All proofs other than this deduced from
conduct, are in some degree ambiguous. This, this only, whether we
argue from Reason or from Scripture, is a sure infallible criterion.
From the daily incidents of conjugal and domestic life, we learn that a
heat of affection occasionally vehement, but superficial and transitory,
may consist too well with a course of conduct, exhibiting incontestable
proofs of neglect and unkindness. But the passion, which alone the Holy
Scriptures dignify with the name of Love, is a deep, not a superficial
feeling; a fixed and permanent, not an occasional emotion. It proves the
validity of its title, by actions corresponding with its nature, by
practical endeavours to gratify the wishes and to promote the interests
of the object of affection. "If a man love me, he will keep my sayings."
"This is the love of God, that we keep his commandments." This therefore
is the best standard by which to try the quality, or, the quality being
ascertained, to estimate the strength of the religious affections.
Without suffering ourselves to derive too much complacency from
transient fervors of devotion, we should carefully and frequently prove
ourselves by this less dubitable test; impartially examining our daily
conduct; and often comparing our actual, with our possible services, the
fair amount of our exertions, with our natural or acquired means and
opportunities of usefulness.

After this large explanation, the prolixity of which will we trust be
pardoned on account of the importance of the subject, and the danger of
mistakes both on the right hand and on the left, we are perfectly ready
to concede to the objector, whose arguments we have so long been
considering, that the religious affections must be expected to be more
or less lively in different men, and in the same man at different times,
in proportion to natural tempers, ages, situations, and habits of life.
But, to found an objection on this ground, would be as unreasonable as
it were altogether to deny the obligation of the precepts, which command
us to relieve the necessities of the indigent, because the infinitely
varying circumstances of mankind must render it impossible to specify
beforehand the sum which each individual ought on the whole to allot to
this purpose, or to fix in every particular instance, on any determinate
measure, and mode of contribution. To the one case no less than to the
other, we may apply the maxim of an eminent writer; "An honest heart is
the best casuist." He who every where but in Religion is warm and
animated, there only phlegmatic and cold, can hardly expect (especially
if this coldness be not the subject of unfeigned humiliation and sorrow)
that his plea on the ground of natural temper should be admitted; any
more than that of a person who should urge his poverty as a
justification of his not relieving the wants of the necessitous, at the
very time that he should be launching out into expence without
restraint, on occasions in which he should be really prompted by his
inclinations. In both cases, "it is the _willing_ mind which is
required." Where that is found "every man will be judged according to
what he hath, and not according to what he hath not[30]."

After the decisive proofs already adduced from the word of God, of the
unreasonableness of the objection to the admission of the passions into
Religion, all farther arguments may appear superfluous to any one who is
disposed to bow to scriptural authority. Yet the point is of so much
importance, and it is to be feared, so little regarded, that it may not
be amiss to continue the discussion. The best results of our
understanding will be shewn to fall in with what clearly appears to be
the authoritative language of revelation; and to call in the aid of the
affections to the service of Religion, will prove to be not only what
sober reason may permit, as in some sort allowable; but to be that which
she clearly and strongly dictates to our deliberate judgments, as being
what the circumstances of our natural condition indispensably require.
We have every one of us a work to accomplish, wherein our eternal
interests are at stake; a work to which we are naturally indisposed. We
live in a world abounding with objects which distract our attention and
divert our endeavours; and a deadly enemy is ever at hand to seduce and
beguile us. If we persevere indeed, success is certain; but our efforts
must know no remission. There is a call on us for vigorous and continual
resolution, self-denial, and activity. Now, man is not a being of mere
intellect.

    Video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor,

is a complaint which, alas! we all of us might daily utter. The
slightest solicitation of appetite is often able to draw us to act in
opposition to our clearest judgment, our highest interests, and most
resolute determinations. Sickness, poverty, disgrace, and even eternal
misery itself, sometimes in vain solicit our regards; they are all
excluded from the view, and thrust as it were beyond the sphere of
vision, by some poor unsubstantial transient object, so minute and
contemptible as almost to escape the notice of the eye of reason.

These observations are more strikingly confirmed in our religious
concerns than in any other; because in them the interests at stake are
of transcendant importance: but they hold equally in every instance
according to its measure, wherein there is a call for laborious,
painful, and continued exertions, from which any one is likely to be
deterred by obstacles, or seduced by the solicitations of pleasure. What
then it to be done in the case of any such arduous and necessary
undertaking? The answer is obvious--You should endeavour not only to
convince the understanding, but also to affect the heart; and for this
end, you must secure the reinforcement of the passions. This is indeed
the course which would be naturally followed by every man of common
understanding, who should know that some one for whom he was deeply
interested, a child, for instance, or a brother, were about to enter on
a long, difficult, perilous, and critical adventure, wherein success was
to be honour and affluence; defeat was to be contempt and ruin. And
still more, if the parent were convinced that his child possessed
faculties which, strenuously and unremittingly exerted, would prove
equal to all the exigences of the enterprize, but knew him also to be
volatile and inconstant, and had reason to doubt his resolution and his
vigilance; how would the friendly monitor's endeavour be redoubled, so
to possess his pupil's mind with the worth and dignity of the
undertaking, that there should be no opening for the entrance of any
inferior consideration!--"Weigh well (he would say) the value of the
object for which you are about to contend, and contemplate and study its
various excellences, till your whole soul be on fire for its
acquisition. Consider too, that, if you fail, misery and infamy are
united in the alternative which awaits you. Let not the mistaken notion
of its being a safe and easy service, for a moment beguile you into the
discontinuance or remission of your efforts. Be aware of your imminent
danger, and at the same time know your true security. It is a service of
labour and peril; but one wherein the powers which you possess,
strenuously and perseveringly exerted, cannot but crown you with
victory. Accustom yourself to look first to the dreadful consequences of
failure; then fix your eye on the glorious prize which is before you;
and when your strength begins to fail, and your spirits are well nigh
exhausted, let the animating view rekindle your resolution, and call
forth in renewed vigour the fainting energies of your soul."

It was the remark of an unerring observer, "The children of this world
are wiser in their generation than the children of light." And it is
indisputably true, that in religion we have to argue and plead with men
for principles of action, the wisdom and expediency of which are
universally acknowledged in matters of worldly concern. So it is in the
instance before us. The case which has been just described, is an exact,
but a faint representation of our condition in this life. Frail and
"infirm of purpose," we have a business to execute of supreme and
indispensable necessity. Solicitations to neglect it every where abound:
the difficulties and dangers are numerous and urgent; and the night of
death cometh, how soon we know not, "when no man can work." All this is
granted. It seems to be a state of things wherein one should look out
with solicitude for some powerful stimulants. Mere knowledge is
confessedly too weak. The affections alone remain to supply the
deficiency. They precisely meet the occasion, and suit the purposes
intended. Yet, when we propose to fit ourselves for our great
undertaking, by calling them in to our help, we are to be told that we
are acting contrary to reason. Is this reasonable, to strip us first of
our armour of proof, and then to send us to the sharpest of encounters?
To summon us to the severest labours, but first to rob us of the
precious cordials which should brace our sinews and recruit our
strength?

Let these pretended advocates for reason at length then confess their
folly, and do justice to the superior wisdom as well as goodness of our
heavenly Instructor, who better understanding our true condition, and
knowing our frowardness and inadvertency, has most reasonably as well as
kindly pointed out and enjoined on us the use of those aids which may
counteract our infirmities; who commanding the effect, has commanded
also the means whereby it may be accomplished.

And now, if the use of the affections in religion, in _general_, be at
length shewn to be conformable to reason, it will not require many words
to prove that our blessed Saviour is the proper object of them. We know
that love, gratitude, joy, hope, trust, (the affections in question)
have all their appropriate objects. Now it must be at once conceded,
that if these appropriate objects be not exhibited, it is perfectly
unreasonable to expect that the correspondent passions should be
excited. If we ask for love, in the case of an object which has no
excellence or desirableness; for gratitude, where no obligation has
been conferred; for joy, where there is no just cause of
self-congratulation; for hope, where nothing is expected; for trust,
where there exists no ground of reliance; then indeed, we must kiss the
rod, and patiently submit to correction. This would be indeed Egyptian
bondage, to demand the effects without the means of producing them. Is
the case then so? Are we ready to adopt the language of the avowed
enemies of our adorable Saviour; and again to say of him "in whom
dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily," that "he hath no form
nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we
should desire him[31]?" Is it no obligation, that he who "thought it not
robbery to be equal with God," should yet for our sakes "make himself of
no reputation, and take upon him the form of a servant, and be made in
the likeness of men; and humble himself, and become obedient unto death,
even the death of the cross[32]?" Is it no cause of "_joy_, that to us
is born a Saviour[33]", by whom we may "be delivered from the power of
darkness; and be made meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the
saints in light[34]?" Can there be a "_hope_ comparable to that of our
calling[35]"--"Which is Christ in us, the hope of glory[36]?" Can there
be a _trust_ to be preferred to the reliance on "Christ Jesus; who is
the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever[37]?" Surely, if our Opponent
be not dead to every generous emotion, he cannot look his own objection
in the face, without a blush of shame and indignation.


SECTION III.

_Consideration of the Reasonableness of Affections towards an invisible
Being._

But forced at last to retreat from his favourite position, and compelled
to acknowledge that the religious affections towards our blessed Saviour
are not unreasonable; he still however maintains the combat, suggesting
that by the very constitution of our nature, we are not susceptible of
them towards an invisible Being; in whose case, it will be added, we are
shut out from all those means of communication and intercourse, which
knit and cement the union between man and man.

We mean not to deny that there is something in this objection. It might
even seem to plead the authority of Scripture in its favour--"He that
loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he
hath not seen[38]?" And it was indeed no new remark in Horace's days,

    Segnius irritant animos demissa per aures,
    Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus.

We receive impressions more readily from visible objects, we feel them
more strongly, and retain them more durably. But though it must be
granted that this circumstance makes it a more difficult task to
preserve the affections in question in a healthful and vigorous state;
is it thereby rendered impossible? This were indeed a most precipitate
conclusion; and any one who should be disposed to admit the truth of it,
might be at least induced to hesitate, when he should reflect that the
argument applies equally against the possibility of the love of God, a
duty of which the most cursory reader of Scripture, if he admit its
divine authority, cannot but acknowledge the indispensable obligation.
But we need only look back to the Scripture proofs which have been
lately adduced, to be convinced that the religious affections are
therein inculcated on us, as a matter of high and serious obligation.
Hence we may be assured that the impossibility stated by our Opponent
does not exist.

Let us scrutinize this matter, however, a little more minutely, and we
shall be compelled to acknowledge, though the conclusion may make
against ourselves, that the objection vanishes when we fairly and
accurately investigate the circumstances of the case. With this view,
let us look a little into the nature of the affections of the human
mind, and endeavour to ascertain whence it is that they derive their
nutriment, and are found from experience to increase in strength.

The state of man is such, that his feelings are not the obedient
servants of his reason, prompt at once to follow its dictates, as to
their direction, and their measure. Excellence is the just object of
love; good in expectancy, of hope; evil to be apprehended, of fear; our
fellow creatures' misfortunes, and sufferings, constitute the just
objects of pity. Each of these passions, it might be thought, would be
excited, in proportion to what our reason should inform us were the
magnitude and consequent claims of its corresponding object. But this is
by no means the case. Take first for a proof the instance of pity. We
read of slaughtered thousands with less emotion, than we hear the
particulars of a shocking accident which has happened in the next
street; the distresses of a novel, which at the same time we know to be
fictitious, affect us more than the dry narrative of a battle. We become
so much interested by these incidents of the imagination (aware all the
while that they are merely such) that we cannot speedily banish them
from our thoughts, nor recover the tone of our minds; and often, we
scarcely bring ourselves to lay down our book at the call of real
misfortune, of which we go perhaps to the relief, on a principle of
duty, but with little sense of interest or emotion of tenderness. It
were easy to shew that it is much the same in the case of the other
affections. Whatever be the cause of this disproportion, which (as
metaphysics fall not within our province) we shall not stop to examine,
the fact is undeniable. There appears naturally to be a certain
strangeness between the passion and its object, which familiarity and
the power of habit must gradually overcome. You must contrive to bring
them into _close contact_; they must be jointed and glued together by
the particularities of little incidents. Thus in the production of heat
in the physical world, the flint and the steel produce not the effect
without collision; the rudest Barbarian will tell us the necessity of
attrition, and the chemist of mixture. Now, an object, it is admitted,
is brought into _closer contact_ with its corresponding passion, by
being seen and conversed with. This we grant is one way; but does it
follow that there is no other? To assert this, would be something like
maintaining, in contradiction to universal experience, that objects of
vision alone are capable of attracting our regard. But nothing can be
more unfounded than such a supposition. It might appear to be too
nearly approaching to the ludicrous, to suggest as an example to the
contrary, the metaphysician's attachment to his insubstantial
speculations, or the zeal displayed in the pursuit,

    Extra flammantia moenia mundi,

of abstract sciences, where there is no idea of bringing them "within
the visible diurnal sphere" to the vulgarity of practical application.
The instance of the novel before-mentioned, proves, that we may be
extremely affected by what we know to be merely ideal incidents and
beings. By much thinking or talking of any one; by using our minds to
dwell on his excellences; by placing him in imaginary situations which
interest and affect us; we find ourselves becoming insensibly more and
more attached to him: whereas it is the surest expedient for
extinguishing an attachment which already exists, to engage in such
occupations or society, as may cause our casual thoughts and more fixed
meditations to be diverted from the object of it. Ask a mother who has
been long separated from her child, especially if he has been in
circumstances of honour, or of danger, to draw her attention to him, and
to keep it in wakefulness and exercise, and she will tell you, that so
far from becoming less dear, he appears to have grown more the object of
her affections. She seems to herself to love him even better than the
child who has been living under her roof, and has been daily in her
view. How does she rejoice in his good fortune, and weep over his
distresses! With what impatience does she anticipate the time of his
return!

We find therefore that sight and personal intercourse do not seem
necessary to the production or increase of attachment, where the means
of _close contact_ have been afforded; but on the other hand, if an
object have been prevented from coming into _close contact_, sight and
personal intercourse are not sufficient to give it the power of exciting
the affections in proportion to its real magnitude. Suppose the case of
a person whom we have often seen, and may have occasionally conversed
with, and of whom we have been told in the general, that he possesses
extraordinary merits. We assent to the assertion. But if we have no
knowledge of particulars, no close acquaintance with him, nothing in
short which brings his merits home to us, they interest us less than
what we know to be a far inferior degree of the very same qualities in
one of our common associates. A parent has several children, all
constantly under his eye, and equally dear to him. Yet if any one of
them be taken ill, it is brought into so much _closer contact_ than
before, that it seems to absorb and engross the parent's whole
affection. Thus then, though it will not be denied that an object by
being visible may thereby excite its corresponding affection with more
facility; yet this is manifestly far from being the prime consideration.
And so far are we from being the slaves of the sense of vision, that a
familiar acquaintance with the intrinsic excellences of an object,
aided, it must be admitted, by the power of habit, will render us almost
insensible to the impressions which its outward form conveys, and able
entirely to lose the consciousness of an unsightly exterior.

We may be permitted to remark, that the foregoing observations furnish
an explanation, less discreditable than that which has been sometimes
given, of an undoubted phaenomenon in the human mind, that the greatest
public misfortunes, however the understanding may lecture, are apt
really to affect our feelings less than the most trivial disaster which
happens to ourselves. An eminent writer[39] scarcely overstated the
point when he observed, "that it would occasion a man of humanity more
real disturbance to know that he was the next morning to lose his little
finger, than to hear that the great empire of China had been suddenly
swallowed up by an earthquake. The thoughts of the former, would keep
him awake all night; in the latter case, after making many melancholy
reflections on the precariousness of human life, and the vanity of all
the labours of man which could be thus annihilated in a moment; after a
little speculation too perhaps on the causes of the disaster, and its
effects in the political and commercial world; he would pursue his
business or his pleasure with the same ease and tranquillity as if no
such accident had happened; and snore at night with the most profound
serenity over the ruin of a hundred million of his fellow creatures.
Selfishness is not the cause of this, for the most unfeeling brute on
earth would surely think nothing of the loss of a finger, if he could
thereby prevent so dreadful a calamity." This doctrine of _contact_
which has been opened above, affords a satisfactory solution; and from
all which has been said (the writer has reason perhaps to apologize for
the length of the discussion) the circumstances, by which the affections
of the mind towards any particular object are generated and
strengthened, may be easily collected. The chief of these appear to be,
whatever tends to give a distinct and lively impression of the object,
by setting before us its minute parts, and by often drawing towards it
the thoughts and affections, so as to invest it by degrees with a
confirmed ascendency: whatever tends to excite and to keep in exercise a
lively interest in its behalf: in other words; full knowledge, distinct
and frequent mental entertainment, and pathetic contemplations.
Supposing these means to have been used in any given degree, it may be
expected, that they will be more or less efficacious, in proportion as
the intrinsic qualities of the object afford greater or less scope for
their operation, and more or fewer materials with which to work. Can it
then be conceived, that they will be of no avail when steadily practised
in the case of our Redeemer! If the principles of love, and gratitude,
and joy, and hope, and trust, are not utterly extinct within us, they
cannot but be called forth by the various corresponding objects which
that blessed contemplation would gradually bring forth to our view. Well
might the language of the apostle be addressed to Christians, "Whom
having _not seen_ ye love; in whom, though now ye _see him not_, yet
believing, ye _rejoice_ with joy unspeakable, and full of glory[40]."

BUT fresh considerations pour in to render in this instance, the plea of
its being impossible to love an invisible being, still more invalid. Our
blessed Saviour, if we may be permitted so to say, is not removed far
from us; and the various relations in which we stand towards him, seem
purposely made known to us, in order to furnish so many different bonds
of connection with him, and consequent occasions of continual
intercourse. He exhibits not himself to us "dark with excessive
brightness," but is let down as it were to the possibilities of human
converse. We may not think that he is incapable of entering into our
little concerns, and sympathizing with them; for we are graciously
assured that he is not one "who cannot be touched with the feeling of
our infirmities, having been in all points tempted like as we are[41]."
The figures under which he is represented, are such as convey ideas of
the utmost tenderness. "He shall feed his flock like a shepherd; he
shall gather the lambs in his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and
shall gently lead those that are with young[42]."--"They shall not
hunger nor thirst, neither shall the heat nor sun smite them; for he
that hath mercy on them, shall lead them, even by the springs of water
shall he guide them[43]." "I will not leave you orphans[44]" was one of
his last consolatory declarations[45]. The children of Christ are here
separated indeed from the personal view of him; but not from his
paternal affection and paternal care. Meanwhile let them quicken their
regards by the animating anticipation of that blessed day, when he "who
is gone to prepare a place for them, will come again to receive them
unto himself." Then shall they be admitted to his more immediate
presence: "Now we see through a glass darkly; but then face to face:
now I know in part; but then shall I know, even as I am known[46]."

Surely more than enough has been now said to prove that this particular
case, from its very nature, furnishes the most abundant and powerful
considerations and means for exciting the feelings; and it might be
contended, without fear of refutation, that by the diligent and habitual
use of those considerations and means, we might with confident
expectation of success, engage in the work of raising our affections
towards our blessed Saviour to a state of due force and activity. But,
blessed be God, we have a still better reliance; for the grand
circumstance of all yet remains behind, which the writer has been led to
defer, from his wish to contend with his opponents on their own ground.
This circumstance is, that here, no less than in other particulars, the
Christian's hope is founded, not on the speculations or the strength of
man, but on the declaration of Him who cannot lie, on the power of
Omnipotence.

We learn from the Scriptures that it is one main part of the operations
of the Holy Spirit, to implant these heavenly principles in the human
mind, and to cherish their growth. We are encouraged to believe that in
answer to our prayers, this aid from above will give efficacy to our
earnest endeavours, if used in humble dependence on divine grace. We may
therefore with confidence take the means which have been suggested. But
let us, in our turn, be permitted to ask our opponents, have _they_
humbly and perseveringly applied for this divine strength? or
disclaiming that assistance, perhaps as tempting them to indolence,
have they been so much the more strenuous and unwearied in the use of
their own unaided endeavours? or rather have they not been equally
negligent of both? Renouncing the one, they have wholly omitted the
other. But this is far from being all. They even reverse all the methods
which we have recommended as being calculated to increase regard; and
exactly follow that course which would be pursued by any one who should
wish to reduce an excessive affection. Yet thus leaving untried all the
means, which, whether from Reason or Scripture, we maintain to be
necessary to the production of the end, nay using such as are of a
directly opposite nature, these men presume to talk to us of
impossibilities! We may rather contend that they furnish a fresh proof
of the soundness of our reasonings. We lay it down as a fundamental
position, that speculative knowledge alone, that mere superficial
cursory considerations, will be of no avail. Nothing is to be done
without the diligent continued use of the appointed method. They
themselves afford an instance of the truth of our assertions; and while
they supply no argument against the efficacy of the mode prescribed,
they acknowledge at least that they are wholly ignorant of any other.

BUT let us now turn our eyes to Christians of a higher order, to those
who have actually proved the truth of our reasonings; who have not only
assumed the name, but who have possessed the substance, and felt the
power of Christianity; who though often foiled by their remaining
corruptions, and shamed and cast down under a sense of their many
imperfections, have known in their better seasons, what it was to
experience its firm hope, its dignified joy, its unshaken trust, its
more than human consolations. In their hearts, love also towards their
Redeemer has glowed; a love not _superficial_ and unmeaning (think not
that this would be the subject of our praise) but constant and rational,
resulting from a strong impression of the worth of its object, and
heightened by an abiding sense of great, unmerited, and continually
accumulating obligations; ever manifesting itself in acts of diligent
obedience, or of patient suffering. Such was the religion of the holy
martyrs of the sixteenth century, the illustrious ornaments of the
English church. They realized the theory which we have now been faintly
tracing. Look to their writings, and you will find that their thoughts
and affections had been much exercised in habitual views of the blessed
Jesus. Thus they used the required _means_. What were the _effects_?
Persecution and distress, degradation and contempt in vain assailed
them--all these evils served but to bring their affections into _closer
contact_ with their object; and not only did their love feel no
diminution or abatement, but it rose to all the exigencies of the
occasion, and burned with an increase of ardor; and when brought forth
at last to a cruel and ignominious death, they repined not at their
fate; but rather rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer for
the name of Christ. By the blessing of God the writer might refer to
still more recent times. But lest his authorities should be disputed,
let us go to the Apostles of our Lord; and while, on a very cursory
perusal of their writings, we must acknowledge that they commend and
even prescribe to us the love of Christ, as one of the chief of the
Christian graces; so on a more attentive inspection of those writings,
we shall discover abundant proofs that they were themselves bright
examples of their own precept; that our blessed Saviour was really the
object of their warmest affection, and what he had done and suffered for
them the continual matter of their grateful remembrance.

The disposition so prevalent in the bulk of nominal Christians, to form
a religious system for themselves, instead of taking it from the word of
God, is strikingly observable in their scarcely admitting, except in the
most vague and general sense, the doctrine of the influence of the Holy
Spirit. If we look into the Scriptures for information on this
particular, we learn a very different lesson. We are in them distinctly
taught, that "of ourselves we can do nothing;" that "we are by nature
children of wrath," and under the power of the evil spirit, our
understandings being naturally dark, and our hearts averse from
spiritual things; and we are directed to pray for the influence of the
Holy Spirit to enlighten our understandings, to dissipate our
prejudices, to purify our corrupt minds, and to renew us after the image
of our heavenly Father. It is this influence which is represented as
originally awakening us from slumber, as enlightening us in darkness, as
"quickening us when dead[47]," as "delivering us from the power of the
devil," as drawing us to God, as "translating us into the kingdom of his
dear Son[48]," as "creating us anew in Christ Jesus[49]," as "dwelling
in us, and walking in us[50];" so that "putting off the old man with his
deeds," we are to consider ourselves as "having put on the new man,
which is renewed in knowledge after the image of Him that created
him[51]"; and as those who are to be "an habitation of God through the
Spirit[52]." It is by this Divine assistance only that we can grow in
Grace, and improve in all Holiness. So expressly, particularly, and
repeatedly does the word of God inculcate these lessons, that one would
think there were scarcely room for any difference of opinion among those
who admit its authority. Sometimes[53] the whole of a Christian's
repentance and faith, and consequent holiness, are ascribed _generally_
to the Divine influence; sometimes these are spoken of separately, and
ascribed to the same Almighty power. Sometimes different particular
graces of the Christian character, those which respect our duties and
tempers towards our fellow-creatures, no less than those which have
reference to the Supreme Being, are particularly traced to this source.
Sometimes they are all referred collectively to this common root, being
comprehended under the compendious denomination of "the Fruits of the
Spirit." In exact correspondence with these representations, this aid
from above is promised in other parts of Scripture for the production of
those effects; and the withholding or withdrawing of it is occasionally
threatened as a punishment for the sins of men, and as one of the most
fatal consequences of the Divine displeasure.

The Liturgy of the church of England strictly agrees with the
representation, which has been here given of the instructions of the
word of God.


SECT. IV.

_Inadequate conceptions entertained by nominal Christians of the terms
of acceptance with God._

If then it be indeed as so has been now stated; that, in contradiction
to the plainest dictates of Scripture, and to the ritual of our
established Church, the sanctifying operations of the Holy Spirit, the
first fruits of our reconciliation to God, the purchase of our
Redeemer's death, and his best gift to his true disciples, are too
generally undervalued and slighted; if it be also true, as was formerly
proved, that our thoughts of the blessed Saviour are confused and faint,
our affections towards him languid and lukewarm, little proportioned to
what they, who at such a price have been rescued from ruin, and endowed
with a title to eternal glory, might be justly expected to feel towards
the Author of their deliverance; little proportioned to what has been
felt by others, ransomed from the same ruin, and partakers of the same
inheritance: if this, let it be repeated, be indeed so, let us not shut
our eyes against the perception of our real state; but rather endeavour
to trace the evil to its source. We are loudly called on to _examine
well our foundations_. If any thing be _there_ unsound and hollow, the
superstructure could not be safe, though its exterior were less
suspicious. Let the question then be asked, and let the answer be
returned with all the consideration and solemnity which a question so
important may justly demand, whether, in the grand concern of all, _the
means of a sinner's acceptance with God_, there be not reason to
apprehend, that the nominal Christians whom we have been addressing, too
generally entertain very superficial, and confused, and (to speak in the
softest terms) highly dangerous notions? Is there not cause to fear,
that with little more than an indistinct and nominal reference to Him
who "bore our sins in his own body on the tree," they really rest their
eternal hopes on a vague, general persuasion of the unqualified mercy of
the Supreme Being; or that, still more erroneously, they rely in the
main, on their own negative or positive merits? "They can look upon
their lives with an impartial eye, and congratulate themselves on their
inoffensiveness in society; on their having been exempt, at least, from
any gross vice, or if sometimes accidentally betrayed into it, on its
never having been indulged habitually; or if not even so" (for there are
but few who can say this, if the term vice be explained according to the
strict requisitions of the Gospel) "yet on the balance being in their
favour, or on the whole, not much against them, when their good and bad
actions are fairly weighed, and due allowance is made for human
frailty." These considerations are sufficient for the most part to
compose their apprehensions; these are the cordials which they find most
at hand in the moments of serious thought, or of occasional dejection;
and sometimes perhaps in seasons of less than ordinary self-complacency,
they call in also to their aid the general persuasion of the unbounded
mercy and pity of God. Yet persons of this description by no means
disclaim a Saviour, or avowedly relinquish their title to a share in the
benefits of his death. They close their petitions with the name of
Christ; but if not chiefly from the effect of habit, or out of decent
conformity to the established faith, yet surely with something of the
same ambiguity of principle which influenced the expiring philosopher,
when he ordered the customary mark of homage to be paid to the god of
medicine.

Others go farther than this; for there are many shades of difference
between those who flatly renounce, and those who cordially embrace the
doctrine of Redemption by Christ. This class has a sort of general,
indeterminate, and ill understood dependence on our blessed Saviour. But
their hopes, so far as they can be distinctly made out (for their views
also are very obscure) appear ultimately to bottom on the persuasion
that they are now, through Christ, become members of a new dispensation,
wherein they will be tried by a more lenient rule than that to which
they must have been otherwise subject. "God will not now be extreme to
mark what is done amiss; but will dispense with the rigorous exactions
of his law, too strict indeed for such frail creatures as we are to hope
that we can fulfil it. Christianity has moderated the requisitions of
Divine Justice; and all which is now required of us, is thankfully to
trust to the merits of Christ for the pardon of our sins, and the
acceptance of our sincere though imperfect obedience. The frailties and
infirmities to which our nature is liable, or to which our situation in
life exposes us, will not be severely judged: and as it is practice that
really determines the character, we may rest satisfied, that if on the
whole our lives be tolerably good, we shall escape with little or no
punishment, and through Jesus Christ our Lord, shall be finally
partakers of heavenly felicity."

We cannot dive into the human heart, and therefore should always speak
with caution and diffidence, when from external appearances or
declarations we are affirming the existence of any internal principles
and feelings; especially as we are liable to be misled by the
ambiguities of language, or by the inaccuracy with which others may
express themselves. But it is sometimes not difficult to any one who is
accustomed, if the phrase may be allowed, to the anatomy of the human
mind, to discern, that generally speaking, the persons who use the above
language, rely not so much on the merits of Christ, and on the agency of
Divine Grace, as on their own power of fulfilling the moderated
requisitions of Divine Justice. He will hence therefore discover in them
a disposition rather to extenuate the malignity of their disease, than
to magnify the excellence of the proffered remedy. He will find them apt
to palliate in themselves what they cannot fully justify, to enhance the
merit of what they believe to be their good qualities and commendable
actions, to set as it were in an account the good against the bad; and
if the result be not very unfavourable, they conceive that they shall be
entitled to claim the benefits of our Saviour's sufferings as a thing of
course. They have little idea, so little, that it might almost be
affirmed that they have no idea at all, of the importance or difficulty
of the duty of what the Scripture calls "submitting ourselves to the
righteousness of God;" or of our proneness rather to justify ourselves
in his sight, than in the language of imploring penitents to acknowledge
ourselves guilty and helpless sinners. They have never summoned
themselves to this entire and unqualified renunciation of their own
merits, and their own strength; and therefore they remain strangers to
the natural loftiness of the human heart, which such a call would have
awakened into action, and roused to resistance. ALL THESE THEIR SEVERAL
ERRORS NATURALLY RESULT FROM THE MISTAKEN CONCEPTION ENTERTAINED OF THE
FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIANITY. They consider not that
Christianity is a scheme for "justifying _the ungodly_[54]," by Christ's
dying for them "_when yet sinners_[55][56];" a scheme "for reconciling
us to God--_when enemies_;" and for making the fruits of holiness _the
effects[57], not the cause_, of our being justified and reconciled:
that, in short, it opens freely the door of mercy, to the greatest and
vilest of penitent sinners; that obeying the blessed impulse of the
grace of God, whereby they had been awakened from the sleep of death,
and moved to seek for pardon, they might enter in, and through the
regenerating influence of the Holy Spirit might be enabled to bring
forth the fruits of Righteousness. But they rather conceive of
Christianity as opening the door of mercy, that those who on the ground
of their own merits could not have hoped to justify themselves before
God, may yet be admitted for Christ's sake, on condition of their having
previously satisfied the moderated requisitions of Divine Justice. In
speaking to others also of the Gospel scheme, they are apt to talk too
much of terms and performances on our part, on which we become entitled
to an interest in the sufferings of Christ; instead of stating the
benefits of Christ's satisfaction as extended to us freely, "without
money and without price."

THE _practical_ consequences of these errors are such as might be
expected. They tend to prevent that sense which we ought to entertain of
our own natural misery and helplessness; and that deep feeling of
gratitude for the merits and intercession of Christ, to which we are
wholly indebted for our reconciliation to God, and for the will and the
power, from first to last, to work out our own salvation. They consider
it too much in the light of a contract between two parties, wherein
each, independently of the other, has his own distinct condition to
perform; man--to do his duty; God--to justify and accept for Christ's
sake: If they fail not in the discharge of their condition, assuredly
the condition on God's part will be faithfully fulfilled. Accordingly,
we find in fact, that they who represent the Gospel scheme in the manner
above described, give evidence of the subject with which their hearts
are most filled, by their proneness to run into merely moral
disquisitions, either not mentioning at all, or at least but cursorily
touching on the sufferings and love of their Redeemer; and are little
apt to kindle at their Saviour's name, and like the apostles to be
betrayed by their fervor into what may be almost an untimely descant on
the riches of his unutterable mercy. In addressing others also whom they
conceive to be living in habits of sin, and under the wrath of God, they
rather advise them to amend their ways as a preparation for their coming
to Christ, than exhort them to throw themselves with deep prostration of
soul at the foot of the cross, there to obtain pardon and find grace to
help in time of need.

The great importance of the subject in question will justify our having
been thus particular. It has arisen from a wish that on a question of
such magnitude, to mistake our meaning should be impossible. But after
all which has been said, let it also be remembered, that except so far
as the instruction of others is concerned, the point of importance is,
the internal disposition of the mind; _where_ the dependence for pardon,
and for holiness, is really placed; not what the language is, in which
men express themselves. And it is to be hoped that he who searches the
heart, sees the right dispositions in many who use the mistaken and
dangerous language to which we have objected.

If this so generally prevailing error concerning the nature of the
Gospel offer be in any considerable degree just; it will then explain
that so generally prevailing languor in the affections towards our
blessed Saviour which was formerly remarked, and that inadequate
impression of the necessity and value of the assistance of the divine
Spirit. According to the soundest principles of reasoning, it may be
also adduced as an additional proof of the correctness of our present
statement, that it so exactly falls in with those phaenomena, and so
naturally accounts for them. For even admitting that the persons above
mentioned, particularly the last class, do at the bottom rely on the
atonement of Christ; yet on their scheme, it must necessarily happen,
that the object to which they are most accustomed to look, with which
their thoughts are chiefly conversant, from which they most habitually
derive complacency, is rather their own qualified merit and services,
though confessed to be inadequate, than the sufferings and atoning death
of a crucified Saviour. The affections towards our blessed Lord
therefore (according to the theory of the passions formerly laid down)
cannot be expected to flourish, because they receive not that which was
shewn to be necessary to their nutriment and growth. If we would love
him as affectionately, and rejoice in him as triumphantly as the first
Christians did; we must learn like them to repose our entire trust in
him, and to adopt the language of the apostle, "God forbid that I should
glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ[58]"--"Who of God is
made unto us wisdom and righteousness, and sanctification, and
redemption[59]."

Doubtless there have been too many who, to their eternal ruin, have
abused the doctrine of Salvation by Grace; and have vainly trusted in
Christ for pardon and acceptance, when by their vicious lives they have
plainly proved the groundlessness of their pretensions. The tree is to
be known by its fruits; and there is too much reason to fear that there
is no principle of faith, when it does not decidedly evince itself by
the fruits of holiness. Dreadful indeed will be the doom, above that of
all others, of those loose professors of Christianity, to whom at the
last day our blessed Saviour will address those words, "I never knew
you; depart from me, all ye that work iniquity." But the danger of error
on this side ought not to render us insensible to the opposite error; an
error against which in these days it seems particularly necessary to
guard. It is far from the intention of the writer of this work to enter
into the niceties of controversy. But surely without danger of being
thought to violate this design, he may be permitted to contend, that
they who in the main believe the doctrines of the church of England, are
bound to allow that our dependence on our blessed Saviour, as alone the
meritorious cause of our acceptance with God, and as the means of all
its blessed fruits and glorious consequences, must be not merely formal
and nominal, but real and substantial: not vague, qualified, and
partial, but direct, cordial, and entire. "Repentance towards God, and
faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ," was the sum of the apostolical
instructions. It is not an occasional invocation of the name, or a
transient recognition of the authority of Christ, that fills up the
measure of the terms, _believing in Jesus_. This we shall find no such
easy task; and if we trust that we do believe, we should all perhaps do
well to cry out in the words of an imploring suppliant (he supplicated
not in vain) "Lord help thou our unbelief." We must be deeply conscious
of our guilt and misery, heartily repenting of our sins, and firmly
resolving to forsake them: and thus penitently "fleeing for refuge to
the hope set before us," we must found altogether on the merit of the
crucified Redeemer our hopes of escape from their deserved punishment,
and of deliverance from their enslaving power. This must be our first,
our last, our only plea. We are to surrender ourselves up to him to "be
washed in his blood[60]," to be sanctified by his Spirit, resolving to
receive him for our Lord and Master, to learn in his school, to obey all
his commandments.

It may perhaps be not unnecessary, after having treated so largely on
this important topic, to add a few words in order to obviate a charge
which may be urged against us, that we are insisting on nice and
abstruse distinctions in what is a matter of general concern; and this
too in a system, which on its original promulgation was declared to be
peculiarly intended for the simple and poor. It will be abundantly
evident however on a little reflection, and experience fully proves the
position, that what has been required is not the perception of a subtile
distinction, but a state and condition of heart. To the former, the poor
and the ignorant must be indeed confessed unequal; but they are far less
indisposed than the great and the learned, to bow down to that
"preaching of the cross which is to them that perish foolishness, but
unto them that are saved the power of God, and the wisdom of God." The
poor are not liable to be puffed up by the intoxicating fumes of
ambition and worldly grandeur. They are less likely to be kept from
entering into the strait and narrow way, and when they have entered to
be drawn back again or to be retarded in their progress, by the cares or
the pleasures of life. They may express themselves ill; but their views
may be simple, and their hearts humble, penitent, and sincere. It is as
in other cases; the vulgar are the subjects of phaenomena, the learned
explain them: the former know nothing of the theory of vision or of
sentiment; but this ignorance hinders not that they see and think, and
though unable to discourse elaborately on the passions, they can feel
warmly for their children, their friends, their country.

After this digression, if that be indeed a digression which by removing
a formidable objection renders the truth of the positions we wish to
establish more clear and less questionable, we may now resume the thread
of our argument. Still intreating therefore the attention of those, who
have not been used to think much of the necessity of this undivided,
and, if it may be so termed, unadulterated reliance, for which we have
been contending; we would still more particularly address ourselves to
others who are disposed to believe that though, in some obscure and
vague sense, the death of Christ as the satisfaction for our sins, and
for the purchase of our future happiness, and the sanctifying influence
of the Holy Spirit, are to be admitted as fundamental articles of our
creed, yet that these are doctrines so much above us, that they are not
objects suited to our capacities; and that, turning our eyes therefore
from these difficult speculations, we should fix them on the practical
and moral precepts of the Gospel. "These it most concerns us to know;
these therefore let us study. Such is the frailty of our nature, such
the strength and number of our temptations to evil, that in reducing the
Gospel morality to practice we shall find full employment: and by
attending to these moral precepts, rather than to those high mysterious
doctrines which you are pressing on us, we shall best prepare to appear
before God on that tremendous day, when 'He shall judge every man
according to his WORKS.'"

    "Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy!"

It will at once destroy this flimsy web, to reply in the words of our
blessed Saviour, and of his beloved Disciple--"This is the _work_ of
God, that ye _believe_ in him whom he hath sent[61]." "This is his
_commandment_, that we should _believe_ on the name of his Son Jesus
Christ[62]." In truth, if we consider but for a moment the opinions
(they scarcely deserve the name of system) of men who argue thus, we
must be conscious of their absurdity. This may be not inconsistently the
language of the modern Unitarian; but surely it is in the highest degree
unreasonable to admit into our scheme all the grand peculiarities of
Christianity, and having admitted, to neglect and think no more of them!
"Wherefore" (might the Socinian say) "Wherefore all this costly and
complicated machinery? It is like the Tychonic astronomy, encumbered and
self-convicted by its own complicated relations and useless
perplexities. It is so little like the simplicity of nature, it is so
unworthy of the divine hand, that it even offends against those rules of
propriety which we require to be observed in the imperfect compositions
of the human intellect[63]."

Well may the Socinian assume this lofty tone, with those whom we are now
addressing. If these be indeed the doctrines of Revelation, common sense
suggests to us that from their nature and their magnitude, they deserve
our most serious regard. It is the very theology of Epicurus to allow
the existence of these "heavenly things," but to deny their connection
with human concerns, and their influence on human actions. Besides the
unreasonableness of this conduct, we might strongly urge also in this
connection the prophaneness of thus treating as matters of subordinate
consideration those parts of the system of Christianity, which are so
strongly impressed on our reverence by the dignity of the person to whom
they relate. This very argument is indeed repeatedly and pointedly
pressed by the sacred writers[64].

Nor is the prophane irreverence of this conduct more striking than its
ingratitude. When from reading that our Saviour was "the brightness of
his Father's glory, and the express image of his person, upholding all
things by the word of his power," we go on to consider the purpose for
which he came on earth, and all that he did and suffered for us; surely
if we have a spark of ingenuousness left within us, we shall condemn
ourselves as guilty of the blackest ingratitude, in rarely noticing, or
coldly turning away, on whatever shallow pretences, from the
contemplation of these miracles of mercy. For those baser minds however
on which fear alone can operate, that motive is superadded: and we are
plainly forewarned, both directly and indirectly, by the example of the
Jewish nation, that God will not hold them guiltless who are thus
unmindful of his most signal acts of condescension and kindness. But as
this is a question of pure Revelation, reasonings from probability may
not be deemed decisive. To Revelation therefore we must appeal; and as
it might be to trespass on the reader's patience fully to discuss this
most important subject, we must refer him to the sacred Writings
themselves for complete satisfaction. We would earnestly recommend it to
him to weigh with the utmost seriousness those passages of Scripture
wherein the peculiar doctrines of Christianity are expressly mentioned;
and farther, to attend with due regard to the illustration and
confirmation, which the conclusions resulting from those passages
receive incidentally from the word of God. They who maintain the opinion
which we are combating, will hereby become convinced that their's is
indeed an _unscriptural_ Religion; and will learn instead of turning off
their eyes from the grand peculiarities of Christianity, to keep these
ever in view, as the pregnant principles whence all the rest must derive
their origin, and receive their best support[65].

Let us then each for himself solemnly ask ourselves, whether _we_ have
fled for refuge to the appointed hope? And whether we are habitually
looking to it, as to the only source of consolation? "Other foundation
can no man lay:" there is no other ground of dependence, no other plea
for pardon; but _here_ there _is_ hope, even to the uttermost. Let us
labour then to affect our hearts with a deep conviction of our need of a
Redeemer, and of the value of his offered mediation. Let us fall down
humbly before the throne of God, imploring pity and pardon in the name
of the Son of his love. Let us beseech him to give us a true spirit of
repentance, and of hearty undivided faith in the Lord Jesus. Let us not
be satisfied till the cordiality of our belief be confirmed to us by
that character of the Apostle, "that to as many as believe Christ is
precious;" and let us strive to increase daily in _love_ towards our
blessed Saviour; and pray earnestly that "we may be filled with _Joy_
and _Peace_ in believing, that we may abound in _Hope_ through the power
of the Holy Ghost." Let us diligently put in practice the directions
formerly given for cherishing and cultivating the principle of the Love
of Christ. With this view let us labour assiduously to increase in
knowledge, that ours may be a deeply rooted and rational affection. By
frequent meditation on the incidents of our Saviour's life, and still
more on the astonishing circumstances of his death; by often calling to
mind the state from which he proposes to rescue us, and the glories of
his heavenly kingdom; by continual intercourse with him of prayer and
praise, of dependence and confidence in dangers, of hope and joy in our
brighter hours, let us endeavour to keep him constantly present to our
minds, and to render all our conceptions of him more distinct, lively,
and intelligent. The title of Christian is a reproach to us, if we
estrange ourselves from Him after whom we are denominated. The name of
Jesus is not to be to _us_ like the Allah of the Mahometans, a talisman
or an amulet to be worn on the arm, as an external badge merely and
symbol of our profession, and to preserve us from evil by some
mysterious and unintelligible potency; but it is to be engraven deeply
on the heart, there written by the finger of God himself in everlasting
characters. It is our title known and understood to present peace and
future glory. The assurance which it conveys of a bright reversion, will
lighten the burthens, and alleviate the sorrows of life; and in some
happier moments, it will impart to us somewhat of that fulness of joy
which is at God's right hand, enabling us to join even here in the
heavenly Hosannah, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power,
and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and
blessing[66]." "Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him
that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever[67]."




CHAPTER IV.

_On the prevailing inadequate Conceptions concerning the Nature and the
Strictness of_ PRACTICAL _Christianity._


SECT. I.

One part of this title may perhaps on the first view excite some
surprise in any one, who may have drawn a hasty inference from the
charges conveyed by the two preceding chapters. Such an one might be
disposed to expect, that they who have very low conceptions of the
corruption of human nature, would be proportionably less indulgent to
human frailty; and that they who lay little stress on Christ's
satisfaction for sin, or on the operations of the Holy Spirit, would be
more high and rigid in their demands of diligent endeavours after
universal holiness; since their scheme implies that we must depend
chiefly on our own exertions and performances for our acceptance with
God.

But any such expectations as these would be greatly disappointed. There
is in fact a region of truth, and a region of errors. They who hold the
fundamental doctrines of Scripture in their due force, hold also in its
due degree of purity the practical system which Scripture inculcates.
But they who explain away the former, soften down the latter also, and
reduce it to the level of their own defective scheme. It is not from any
confidence in the superior amount of their own performances, or in the
greater vigour of their own exertions, that they reconcile themselves to
their low views of the satisfaction of Christ, and of the influence of
the Spirit; but it should rather seem their plan so to depress the
required standard of practice, that no man need fall short of it, that
no superior aid can be wanted for enabling us to attain to it. It
happens however with respect to their simple method of morality, as in
the case of the short ways to knowledge, of which some vain pretenders
have vaunted themselves to be possessed: despising the beaten track in
which more sober and humble spirits have been content to tread, they
have indignantly struck into new and untried paths; but these have
failed of conducting them to the right object, and have issued only in
ignorance and conceit.

It seems in our days to be the commonly received opinion, that provided
a man admit in general terms the truth of Christianity, though he know
not or consider not much concerning the particulars of the system; and
if he be not habitually guilty of any of the grosser vices against his
fellow creatures, we have no great reason to be dissatisfied with him,
or to question the validity of his claim to the name and consequent
privileges of a Christian. The title implies no more than a sort of
formal, general assent to Christianity in the gross, and a degree of
morality in practice, but little if at all superior to that for which we
look in a good Deist, Mussulman, or Hindoo.

If any one be disposed to deny that this is a fair representation of the
religion of the bulk of the Christian world, he might be asked, whether
if it were proved to them beyond dispute that Christianity is a mere
forgery, would this occasion any great change in their conduct or habits
of mind? Would any alteration be made in consequence of this discovery,
except in a few of their speculative opinions, which, when distinct from
practice, it is a part of their own system, as has been before remarked,
to think of little consequence, and in their attendance on public
worship, which however (knowing the good effects of religion upon the
lower orders of the people) they might still think it better to attend
occasionally for example's sake? Would not their regard for their
character, their health, their domestic and social comforts, still
continue to restrain them from vicious excesses, and to prompt them to
persist in the discharge, according to their present measure, of the
various duties of their stations? Would they find themselves
dispossessed of what had been to them hitherto the repository of counsel
and instruction, the rule of their conduct, their habitual source of
peace, and hope, and consolation?

It were needless to put these questions. They are answered in fact
already by the lives of many known unbelievers, between whom and these
professed Christians, even the familiar associates of both, though men
of discernment and observation, would discover little difference either
in conduct or temper of mind. How little then does Christianity deserve
that title to novelty and superiority which has been almost universally
admitted; that pre-eminence, as a practical code, over all other systems
of ethics! How unmerited are the praises which have been lavished upon
it by its friends; praises, in which even its enemies (not in general
disposed to make concessions in its favour) have so often been unwarily
drawn in to acquiesce!

Was it then for this, that the Son of God condescended to become our
instructor and our pattern, leaving us an example that we might tread in
his steps? Was it for this that the apostles of Christ voluntarily
submitted to hunger and nakedness and pain, and ignominy and death, when
forewarned too by their Master that such would be their treatment? That,
after all, their disciples should attain to no higher a strain of virtue
than those who rejecting their Divine authority, should still adhere to
the old philosophy?

But it may perhaps be objected that we are forgetting an observation
which we ourselves have made, that Christianity has raised the general
standard of morals; to which therefore Infidelity herself now finds it
prudent to conform, availing herself of the pure morality of
Christianity, and sometimes wishing to usurp to herself the credit of
it, while she stigmatizes the authors with the epithets of ignorant
dupes or designing impostors!

But let it then be asked, are the motives of Christianity so little
necessary to the practice of it, its principles to its conclusions, that
the one may be spared and yet the other remain in undiminished force?
Still then, its _Doctrines_ are no more than a barren and inapplicable
or at least an unnecessary theory, the place of which, it may perhaps be
added, would be well supplied by a more simple and less costly scheme.

But can it be? Is Christianity then reduced to a mere creed? Is its
practical influence bounded within a few external plausibilities? Does
its essence consist only in a few speculative opinions, and a few
useless and unprofitable tenets? And can this be the ground of that
portentous distinction, which is so unequivocally made by the Evangelist
between those who accept, and those who reject the Gospel: "He that
believeth on the Son, hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not
the Son, shall not see life: but the wrath of God abideth on him?" This
were to run into the very error which the bulk of professed Christians
would be most forward to condemn, of making an unproductive faith the
rule of God's future judgment, and the ground of an eternal separation.
Thus not unlike the rival circumnavigators from Spain and Portugal, who
setting out in contrary directions, found themselves in company at the
very time they thought themselves farthest from each other; so the bulk
of professed Christians arrive, though by a different course, almost at
the very same point, and occupy nearly the same station as a set of
enthusiasts, who also rest upon a barren faith, to whom on the first
view they might be thought the most nearly opposite, and whose tenets
they with reason profess to hold in peculiar detestation. By what
pernicious courtesy of language is it, that this wretched system has
been flattered with the name of Christianity.

The morality of the Gospel is not so slight a fabric. Christianity
throughout the whole extent exhibits proofs of its Divine original, and
its practical precepts are no less pure than its doctrines are sublime.
Can the compass of language furnish injunctions stricter in their
measure or larger in their comprehension, than those with which the word
of God abounds; "_Whatsoever_ ye do in _word_ or _deed_, do _all_ in the
name of the Lord Jesus;"--"Be _ye_ holy, _for God is holy_:"--"Be ye
_perfect_ as your Father which is in Heaven is _perfect_?" We are
commanded to _perfect_ holiness, to go on unto _perfection_.

Such are the Scripture admonitions; and surely they to whom such
admonitions are addressed, may not safely acquiesce in low attainments:
a conclusion to which also we are led by the force of the expressions by
which Christians are characterized in Scripture, and by the radical and
thorough change, which is represented as taking place in any man on his
becoming a real Christian. "Every one," it is said, "that hath this
hope, purifieth himself even as God is pure:" true Christians are said
to be "partakers of the Divine nature;"--"to be created anew in the
image of God;"--"to be temples of the Holy Ghost;" the effects of which
must appear "in _all_ goodness and righteousness and truth."

Great as was the progress which the apostle Paul had made in all virtue,
he declares of himself that _he_ still presses forward, "forgetting the
things which are behind, and reaching forth unto the things which are
before." He prays for his beloved disciples, "that they may be _filled_
with _all_ the fulness of God;" that they may be _filled_ "with the
fruits of righteousness:" "that they might walk worthy of the Lord unto
_all_ pleasing, being fruitful in _every_ good work." Nor is it a less
pregnant and comprehensive petition, which, from our blessed Saviour's
inserting it in that form of prayer which he has given as a model for
our imitation, we may infer ought to be the habitual sentiment of our
hearts; "Thy will be done in Earth _as it is in Heaven_."

These few extracts from the word of God will serve abundantly to
vindicate the _strictness_ of the Christian morality: but this point
will however be still more fully established, when we proceed to
investigate the _nature_, _essence_, and _governing principles_ of the
Christian character.

It is the grand essential practical characteristic of true Christians,
that relying on the promises to repenting sinners of acceptance through
the Redeemer, they have renounced and abjured all other masters, and
have cordially and unreservedly devoted themselves to God. This is
indeed the very figure which baptism daily represents to us: like the
father of Hannibal, we there bring our infant to the altar, we
consecrate him to the service of _his proper owner_, and vow _in his
name_ eternal hostilities against all the enemies of his salvation.
After the same manner Christians are become the sworn enemies of sin;
they will henceforth hold no parley with it, they will allow it in no
shape, they will admit it to no composition; the war which they have
denounced against it, is cordial, universal, irreconcilable.

But this not all--It is now their determined purpose to yield themselves
without reserve to the reasonable service of their rightful Sovereign.
"They are not their own:"--their bodily and mental faculties, their
natural and acquired endowments, their substance, their authority, their
time, their influence; all these, they consider as belonging to them,
not for their own gratification, but as so many instruments to be
consecrated to the honour and employed in the service of God. This must
be the master principle to which every other must be subordinate.
Whatever may have been hitherto their ruling passion; whatever hitherto
their leading pursuit; whether sensual, or intellectual, of science, of
taste, of fancy, or of feeling, it must now possess but a secondary
place; or rather (to speak more correctly) it must exist only at the
pleasure, and be put altogether under the controul and direction, of its
true and legitimate superior.

Thus it is the prerogative of Christianity "to bring into captivity
_every thought_ to the obedience of Christ." They who really feel its
power, are resolved (in the language of Scripture) "to live no longer to
themselves, but to him that died for them;" they know indeed their own
infirmities; they know, that the way on which they have entered is
strait and difficult, but they know too the encouraging assurance,
"They who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength;" and relying on
this animating declaration, they deliberately purpose that, so far as
they may be able, the grand governing maxim of their future lives shall
be, "_to do all to the glory of God_."

Behold here the seminal principle, which contains within it, as in an
embryo state, the rudiments of all true virtue; which, striking deep its
roots, though feeble perhaps and lowly in its beginnings, silently
progressive; and almost insensibly maturing, yet will shortly, even in
the bleak and churlish temperature of this world, lift up its head and
spread abroad its branches, bearing abundant fruits; precious fruits of
refreshment and consolation, of which the boasted products of philosophy
are but sickly imitations, void of fragrance and of flavour. But,

    Igneus est ollis vigor & _coelestis_ origo.

At length it shall be transplanted into its native region, and enjoy a
more genial climate, and a kindlier soil; and, bursting forth into full
luxuriance, with unfading beauty and unexhausted odours, shall flourish
for ever in the paradise of God.

But while the servants of Christ continue in this life, glorious as is
the issue of their labours, they receive but too many humiliating
memorials of their remaining imperfections, and they daily find reason
to confess, that they cannot do the things that they would. Their
_determination_, however, is still unshaken, and it is the fixed desire
of their hearts to improve in _all holiness_--and this, let it be
observed, on many accounts. Various passions concur to push them
forward; they are urged on by the dread of failure, in this arduous but
necessary work; they trust not, where their all is at stake, to lively
emotions, or to internal impressions however warm; the example of Christ
is their pattern, the word of God is their rule; there they read, that
"without holiness no man shall see the Lord." It is the description of
real Christians, that "they are gradually changed into the image of
their Divine Master;" and they dare not allow themselves to believe
their title sure, except so far as they can discern in themselves the
growing traces of this blessed resemblance.

It is not merely however the fear of misery, and the desire of
happiness, by which they are actuated in their endeavours to excel in
all holiness; they love it for its own sake: nor is it _solely_ by the
sense of self-interest (this, though often unreasonably condemned, is
but it must be confessed a principle of an inferior order) that they are
influenced in their determination to obey the will, and to cultivate the
favour of God. This determination has its foundations indeed in a deep
and humiliating sense of his exalted Majesty and infinite power, and of
their own extreme inferiority and littleness, attended with a settled
conviction of its being their duty as his creatures, to submit in all
things to the will of their great Creator. But these awful impressions
are relieved and ennobled by an admiring sense of the infinite
perfections and infinite amiableness of the Divine Character; animated
by a confiding though humble hope of his fatherly kindness and
protection; and quickened by the grateful recollection of immense and
continually increasing obligations. This is the Christian love of God! A
love compounded of admiration, of preference, of hope, of trust, of
joy; chastised by reverential awe, and wakeful with continual gratitude.

I would here express myself with caution, lest I should inadvertently
wound the heart of some weak but sincere believer. The elementary
principles which have been above enumerated, may exist in various
degrees and proportions. A difference in natural disposition, in the
circumstances of the past life, and in numberless other particulars, may
occasion a great difference in the predominant tempers of different
Christians. In one the love, in another the fear of God may have the
ascendency; trust in one, and in another gratitude; but in greater or
less degrees, a cordial complacency in the sovereignty, an exalted sense
of the perfections, a grateful impression of the goodness, and a humble
hope of the favour of the Divine Being, are common to them
all.--Common--the determination to devote themselves without exceptions,
to the service and glory of God.--Common--the desire of holiness and of
continual progress towards perfection.--Common--an abasing consciousness
of their own unworthiness, and of their many remaining infirmities,
which interpose so often to corrupt the simplicity of their intentions,
to thwart the execution of their purer purposes, and frustrate the
resolutions of their better hours.

But some perhaps, who will not directly and in the gross oppose the
conclusions for which we have been contending, may endeavour to elude
them. It may be urged, that to represent them as of general application,
is going much too far; and however true in the case of some individuals
of a higher order, it may be asserted they are not applicable to
ordinary Christians; from these so much will not surely be expected; and
here perhaps there may be a secret reference to that supposed
mitigation of the requisitions of the divine Law under the Christian
dispensation, which was formerly noticed. This is so important a point
that it ought not to be passed over: let us call in the authority of
Scripture; at the same time, not to tire the patience of our readers,
but a few passages shall be cited, and we must refer to the word of God
itself those who wish for fuller satisfaction. The difficulty here is
not to find proofs, but to select with discretion from the multitude
which pour in upon us. Here also, as in former instances, the positive
injunctions of Scripture are confirmed and illustrated by various
considerations and inferences, suggested by other parts of the sacred
Writings, all tending to the same infallible conclusion.

In the first place, the precepts are expressed in the broadest and most
general terms; there is no hint given, that any persons are at liberty
to conceive themselves exempted from the obligation of them; and in any
who are disposed to urge such a plea of exemption, it may well excite
the most serious apprehension to consider how the plea would be received
by an earthly tribunal: no weak argument this to any who are acquainted
with the Scriptures, and who know how often God is there represented as
reasoning with mankind on the principles, which they have established
for their dealings with each other.

But in the next place the precepts in question contain within themselves
abundant proofs of their _universal_ application, inasmuch as they are
grounded on circumstances and relations common to _all_ Christians, and
of the benefits of which, even our Objectors themselves (though they
would evade the practical deductions from them) would not be willing to
relinquish their share. Christians "are not their own," because "_they
are bought with a price_;" they are not "to live unto themselves, but
_to him that died for them_;" they are commanded to do the most
difficult duties, "that they may be the children of their Father which
is in heaven;" and "except a man _be born again of the Spirit_" (thus
again becoming one of the sons of God) "_he cannot enter into the
kingdom of heaven_." It is "_because they are sons_," that God has given
them what in Scripture language is styled _the Spirit of adoption_. It
is only of "as many _as are led by the Spirit of God_," that it is
declared that "they are the sons of God;" and we are expressly warned
(in order as it were to prevent any such loose profession of
Christianity as that which we are here combating) "_If any man_ have not
the Spirit of Christ, _he is none of his_." In short, Christians in
general are every where denominated _the servants and the children_ of
God, and are required to serve him with that submissive obedience, and
that affectionate promptitude of duty, which belong to those endearing
relations.

Estimate next, the force of that well known passage--"Thou shalt love
the Lord thy God with _all_ thy heart, and with _all_ thy mind, and with
_all_ thy soul, and with _all_ thy strength!" The injunction is
multiplied on us, as it were, to silence the sophistry of the caviller,
and to fix the most inconsiderate mind. And though, for the sake of
argument, we should concede for the present, that, under _the
qualifications formerly suggested_, an _ardent_ and _vigorous_ affection
were not indispensably required of us; yet surely if the words have any
meaning at all, the least which can be intended by them is that settled
predominant esteem and cordial preference for which we are now
contending. The conclusion which this passage forces on us, is
strikingly confirmed by other parts of Scripture, wherein the love of
God is positively commended to the _whole_ of a Christian church[68]; or
wherein the want of it[69], or wherein its not being the chief and
ruling affection, is charged on persons professing themselves
Christians, as being sufficient to disprove their claim to that
appellation, or as being equivalent to denying it[70]. Let not therefore
any deceive themselves by imagining, that only an absolute unqualified
renunciation of the desire of the favour of God is _here_ condemned. God
will not accept of a _divided_ affection; a _single_ heart, and a
_single_ eye are in express terms declared to be indispensably required
of us. We are ordered, under the figure of amassing heavenly treasure,
to make the favour and service of God our _chief_ pursuit, for this very
reason, because "_where our treasure is, there will our hearts be
also_." It is on this principle that in speaking of particular vices,
such phrases are often used in Scripture, as suggest that their
criminality mainly consists in drawing away the HEART from Him who is
the just object of its preference; and that sins, which we might think
very different in criminality, are classed together, because they all
agree in this grand character. Nor is this preference asserted only over
affections which are vicious in themselves, and to which therefore
Christianity might well be supposed hostile; but over those also which
in their just measure are not only lawful, but even most strongly
enjoined on us. "He that loveth father and mother more than me," says
our blessed Saviour, "is not worthy of me;" "and he that loveth son or
daughter more than me, is not worthy of me[71]." The spirit of these
injunctions harmonizes with many commendations in Scripture of zeal for
the honour of God; as well as with that strong expression of disgust and
abhorrence with which the lukewarm, those that are neither cold nor hot,
are spoken of as being more loathsome and offensive than even open and
avowed enemies.

Another class of instances tending to the same point is furnished by
those many passages of Scripture, wherein the promoting of _the glory_
of God is commanded as our supreme and universal aim, and wherein the
honour due unto _Him_ is declared to be that in which He will allow no
competitor to participate. On this head indeed the Holy Scriptures are,
if possible, more peremptory than on the former; and at the same time so
full as to render particular citations unnecessary, in the case of any
one who has ever so little acquaintance with the word of God.

To put the same thing therefore in another light. All who have read the
Scriptures must confess that idolatry is the crime against which God's
highest resentment is expressed, and his severest punishment denounced.
But let us not deceive ourselves. It is not in bowing the knee to idols
that idolatry consists, so much as in the internal homage of the heart;
as in the feeling towards them of any of that supreme love, or
reverence, or gratitude, which God reserves to himself as his own
exclusive prerogative. On the same principle, whatever else draws off
the heart from him, engrosses our prime regard, and holds the chief
place in our esteem and affections, _that_, in the estimation of reason,
is no less an idol to us, than an image of wood or stone would be;
before which we should fall down and worship. Think not this a strained
analogy; it is the very language and argument of inspiration. The
servant of God is commanded not to set up his idol in his _Heart_; and
sensuality and covetousness are repeatedly termed _Idolatry_. The same
God who declares--"My glory will I not give to another, neither my
praise _to graven images_," declares also--"Let not the wise man glory
in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man _glory_ in his might; let not
the rich man _glory_ in his riches[72]." "No flesh may _glory_ in his
presence;" "he that _glorieth_, let him glory in the Lord." The sudden
vengeance by which the vain-glorious ostentation of Herod was punished,
when, acquiescing in the servile adulation of an admiring multitude, "he
gave not God the _glory_," is a dreadful comment on these injunctions.

These awful declarations, it is to be feared, are little regarded. Let
the Great, and the Wise, and the Learned, and the Successful lay them
seriously to heart, and labour habitually to consider their superiority,
whether derived from nature, or study, or fortune, as the unmerited
bounty of God. This reflection will naturally tend to produce a
disposition, instead of that proud self complacency so apt to grow upon
the human heart, in all respects opposite to it; a disposition
honourable to God, and useful to man, a temper composed of reverence,
humility, and gratitude, and delighting to be engaged in the praises,
and employed in the benevolent service of the universal Benefactor.

But, to return to our subject, it only remains to be remarked, that here
as in the former instances, the characters of the righteous and of the
wicked, as delineated in Scripture, exactly correspond with the
representations which have been given of the Scripture injunctions.

The necessity of this cordial unreserved devotedness to the glory and
service of God, as being indispensable to the character of the true
Christian, has been insisted on at the greater length, not only on
account of its own extreme importance, but also because it appears to be
a duty too generally overlooked. Once well established, it will serve as
a fundamental principle both for the government of the heart and
regulation of the conduct; and will prove eminently useful in the
decision of many practical cases, which it might be difficult to bring
under the undisputed operation of any subordinate or appropriate rule.


SECT. II.

And now, having endeavoured to establish the strictness, and to
ascertain the essential character of true practical Christianity, let us
investigate a little more in detail the practical system of the bulk of
professed Christians among ourselves[73].

It was formerly remarked, that the whole subject of Religion was often
viewed from such a distance as to be seen only in the gross. We now, it
is to be feared, shall find too much cause for believing that they who
approach a little nearer, and do discover in Christianity somewhat of a
distinct form, yet come not close enough to discern her peculiar
lineaments and conformation. The writer must not be understood to mean
that the several misconceptions, which he shall have occasion to point
out, will be generally found to exist with any thing like precision,
much less that they are regularly digested into a system; nor will it be
expected they all should meet in the same person, nor that they will not
be found in different people, and under different circumstances,
variously blended, combined, and modified. It will be enough if we
succeed in tracing out great and general outlines. The human countenance
may be well described by its general characters, though infinitely
varied by the peculiarities which belong to different individuals, and
often by such shades and minutenesses of difference, as though
abundantly obvious to our perceptions, it would exceed the power of
definition to discriminate, or even of language to express.

A very erroneous notion appears to prevail concerning the true nature of
Religion. Religion, agreeably to what has been already stated, (the
importance of the subject will excuse repetition) may be considered as
the implantation of a vigorous and active principle; it is seated in
the heart, where its authority is recognized as supreme, whence by
degrees it expels whatever is opposed to it, and where it gradually
brings all the affections and desires under its complete controul and
regulation.

But though the heart be its special residence, it may be said to possess
in a degree the ubiquity of its Divine Author. Every endeavour and
pursuit must acknowledge its presence; and whatever does not, or will
not, or cannot receive its sacred stamp, is to be condemned as
inherently defective, and is to be at once abstained from or abandoned.
It is like the principle of vitality, which, animating and informing
every part, lives throughout the whole of the human body, and
communicates its kindly influence to the smallest and remotest fibres of
the frame. But the notion of Religion entertained by many among us seems
altogether different. They begin indeed, in submission to her clear
prohibitions, by fencing off from the field of human action, a certain
district, which, though it in many parts bear fruits on which they cast
a longing eye, they cannot but confess to be forbidden ground. They next
assign to Religion a portion, larger or smaller according to whatever
may be their circumstances and views, in which however she is to possess
merely a qualified jurisdiction, and having so done, they conceive that
without let or hindrance they have a right to range at will over the
spacious remainder. Religion can claim only a stated proportion of their
thoughts, and time, and fortune, and influence; and of these, or perhaps
of any of them, if they make her any thing of a liberal allowance, she
may well be satisfied: the rest is now their own to do what they will
with; they have paid their tythes, say rather their composition, the
demands of the Church are satisfied, and they may surely be permitted to
enjoy what she has left without molestation or interference.

It is scarcely possible to state too strongly the mischief which results
from this fundamental error. At the same time its consequences are so
natural and obvious, that one would think it scarcely possible not to
foresee that they must infallibly follow. The greatest part of human
actions is considered as indifferent. If men are not chargeable with
actual vices, and are decent in the discharge of their religious duties;
if they do not stray into the forbidden ground, if they respect the
rights of the conceded allotment, what more can be expected from them?
Instead of keeping at a distance from _all sin_, in which alone consists
our safety, they will be apt not to care how near they approach what
they conceive to be the boundary line; if they have not actually passed
it, there is no harm done, it is no trespass. Thus the free and active
spirit of Religion is "cribbed and hemmed in;" she is checked in her
disposition to expand her territory, and enlarge the circle of her
influence. She must keep to her prescribed confines, and every attempt
to extend them will be resisted as an encroachment.

But this is not all. Since whatever can be gained from her allotment, or
whatever can be taken in from the forbidden ground, will be so much of
addition to that land of liberty, where men may roam at large, free from
restraint or molestation, they will of course be constantly, and almost
insensibly, straitening and pressing upon the limits of the religious
allotment on the one hand; and on the other, will be removing back a
little farther and farther the fence which abridges them on the side of
the forbidden ground. If Religion attempt for a time to defend her
frontier, she by degrees gives way. The space she occupies diminishes
till it be scarcely discernible; whilst, her spirit extinguished, and
her force destroyed, she is little more than the nominal possessor even
of the contracted limits to which she has been avowedly reduced.

This it is to be feared is but too faithful a representation of the
general

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