FORMATION
OF THE
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER 
e 
FORMARTION 
CH RIS,TIAN. CHARACTER,
ADDRESSED TO THOSE WHO ARE SEEKING
TO LEA) A RELIGIOUS LIFE:
PROGfRESS OF THE CHRISTIAN LIFE;
A SEQUEL TO THE "FORMATION OF THE
CIHRISTIAN CHIARACTER."
BY HENRY WARE, JR.
NEW EDITION.
BOSTON:
AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION.
1874.
1A- hi
,       I)
BEING 
Eutered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856,
BY JAMEs MUNROE AND COMPANY,
is the Clerk's Office of the D)istrict Court of Massachusetts 
PREFACE.
IN presenting to the religious public this
h le book, the writer has only to say, that he
undertook it because he thought that a work
of this character was needed and would be
welcome. During his active ministry, he had
often felt the want of a book on personal religion, different, in some respects, from any
which had fallen in his way; and when corn
pelled by ill health to relinquish his pastoral
cares, he attempted to beguile some of the
languid hours of a weary convalescence by
efforts at composing such an one. The result has come very far short of Lhie idea which
he had formed in his mind. The book was
written at distant and uncertain intervals, upon
b 
PREFACE.
journeys and in public houses, and has been
now revised for the press in the midst of
other cares, which have allowed no time for
giving it the completeness he desired. Yet,
as it belongs to a class of writings of whose
importance he has the highest sense, and the
multiplication of which, as well as the increase of a taste for their perusal, he esteems
in the highest measure desirable,-he ventures to hope that this slight effort will not be
wholly lost; and that it may at least do something towards exciting others to a preparation
of more efficient works, which shall nourish
the spirit of devotion, and extend the power
of practical faith.
Cambridge, May 16,1831.
vi 
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 1.
The Nature of Religion, and what we are to
seek.-Religion described-exemplified in the
character of Christ-an arduous attainment caution against low views...
CHAPTER II.
Our Power to obtain that which we seek.-The
capacity for religion in human nature-educa tion-the natural and the spiritual life-man's
ability to do the will of God-false humility salvation by grace i...........18
CHAPTER III.
The State of Mind in which the Inquirer should
sustain himself.-Sense of unworthinessanxi ety of mind-rules to be observed respecting
retirement, conversation, p)ublic meetings.
CHAPTER IV.
The Means of Religious Improvement..
1. Reading.-Duty of seeking religious knowl edge —its advantages-time to be given to it
— the Bible —to be read for instruction in
truth-for self-application- selection of other
books....
I
* 5
84
47
47 
CONTENTS.
II. Meditation.-Its object-habitual thoughtful.
ness-seasons of meditation-enjoyment to be
expected in them-caution.-three purposes to
be answered....    68
III. Prayer.-Its necessitv and value-impor  tance of set times-metlhod to be observed  subjects - posture-language-frequency  and
brevity-ejaculatory prayer-faith, fervor, per  severance-answers to prayer-topicsin the
name of Christ-caution-spirit of devotion.  82
IV. Preaching.-A divine institution-necessity
of preparation for hearing-a critical disposition
-reflection on what has been heard-on keep  ing a record of sermons-weakness of memory
-a taste for preaching to be preserved..  119
V. The Lord's Supper.-Its object two-fold, pro  fession of faith, and means of improvement  who to partake, and when-an affecting and
comprehensive rite-an opportunity for silent
worslhip-conclusion....    136
CHAPTER V.
The Religious Discipline of Life.-The means
of religion not to be mistaken for the end watchfulness, daily duties and trials-discipline
of the thoughts, dispositions, passions, appetites
conversation-ordinary deportment-guard tc
be kept over the principles —and over  the
habits.......
VI'II
149 
FO RM  AT1 O N
OF THE
CHRI S TI A N CHARAC T ER.
INTRODUCTION.
I AM anxious to bespeak the reader's right
attention before he enters on the following
pages. They have been written only for
those who are sincerely desirous of knowing
themselves, and are bent upon forming a reigious character. They can be of little
nterest or value to any other person, or if
read with any other view than that of selfimprovement. I venture therefore to entreat
every one, into whose hands the book may
fall, to peruse it, as it has been written, not
for entertainment, but for moral edification;
to read it at those seasons when he is seriously disposed, and can reflect upon tho
1 
INTRODUCTION.
important topics presented  to his view.  1
am solicitous to aid him in the fornmation of
his  Christian   character,  and  about every
other result I am  indifferent.
I would even presume, further, to warn
one class of readers, and that not a small
one, against a danger which lurks even in
their established respect for religion. That
general regard for it, which grows out of the
circumstances  of education  and  the habits
of society, may be  lr:ataken for a religious
state of mind; yet it is perfectly consistent
with religious indifference. A man may
sincerely honor, advocate, and uphold the
religion of Christ on account of its general
influence, its beneficial public tendency, its
humane and civilizing consequences, without
at all subjecting his own temper and life to
its laws, or being in any proper sense a subject of the peculiar happiness it imparts.
This is perhaps not an infrequent case.
Men need to be made sensible that religion
is a personal thing, a matter of personal
application and experience. Unless it is so
considered, it will scarcely be an object of
earnest pursuit, or of fervent, hearty interest,
2 
INTRODUCTION.
nor can it exert its true and thorough in.
fluenece on the character. Indeed, its d(lesirable influence upon the state of society can
be gained only through this deep personal
devotion to it of individuals; because none
but this is genuine religion, and the genuine
only can exhibit the genuine power.
I know of nothing to  be more  earnestly
desired, than that men should cease to look
upon religion as designed for others, and
should come to regard it as primarily affecting themselves; that they should first and
most seriously study its relation to their own
hearts, and be above all things anxious about
their own characters. His is but a partial
and unsatisfactory faith, which is concerned
wholly with the state of society in general, and
allows him to neglect the discipline of his
own affections and the culture of his own
spiritual nature. He is but poorly fitted to
honor or promote the cause of Christ, who has
not first subjected his own soul to his holy
government. There are men enough, when
Christianity is prevalent and honorable, to
lend it their countenance and pay it external
homage. We want more thorough, consistent
~3 
INTRODUCTION.
exemplifications  of its purity,  benevolence,
and spirituality. These can be found only in
men, who love it for its own sake, and because
it is'the wisdom of God and the power of God
unto salvation,' and not simply because it is
respectable in the eyes of the world, and
favorable to the decency and order of the commonwealth. It is for those who are seeking
this end, and for such only, that I write.
4 
CHAPTER I.
THE NATURE OF RELIGION, AND WHAT WE ARR
TO SEEK.
IN order to the intelligent and successful
pursuit of any object, it is necessary, first of
all, to have a definite conception of what  we
desire to effect or obtain. This is especially
important  in  the  study  of Religion,  both
because of the extent and variety of the sub.
ject itself, and because of the very different
appl)relhensionis of men respecting it. Many
are disheartened and fail, in consequence of
setting out with  wrong  views  and  false expectations. From which cause religion itself
suffers; being made  answerable for failures,
which are entirely owing to the unreasonable
anticipations and  ll-directed efforts of those
who enlisted in her service, but did not persevere in it.
Let us-begin, then, with considering what
is the object at which we  aim when  we seek
a religious character.
1* 
6         rlHE NATURE OF RELIGIOrN.
Religion, in a general sense, is founded
on mnan's relation and accountableness to his
Maker: and  it consists in  cherishing  the
sentiments and performing the duties which
thence result, and which belong to the other
relations to other beings which God has appointed him to sustain.
Concerning these relations, sentiments, and
duties, we are instructed in the Scriptures,
especially in the New Testament. Religion,
with us, is the Christian religion. It is found
in the teachings and example of Jesus Christ
It consists in the worship, the sentiments, and
the character. which he enjoined, and which
he illustrated in his own person.
What you are to seek, therefore, is, under
the guidance of Jesus Christ, to feel your
relation to God, and to live under a sense of
responsibility to him; to cultivate assiduously
those sentiments and affections which spring
out of this responsible and filial relation, as
well as those which arise out of your connexion with other men as his offspring; to perform all the duties to Him and them, which
appertain to this character and relation; and
to cherish that heavenward tendency of mind, 
THE NATURE OF RELIGION.
which should spring from a consciousness of
possessing an immortal nature. lie who does
all this is a religious man, or, in oth,- words,
a Christian.
You desire to be a Christian. To this are
requisite three things: belief in the truths
which the gospel reveals; possession of the
state of mind which it enjoins; and performance of the duties which it requires: or, I
may say, the subjection of the mind by faith,
the subjection of the heart by love, the subjection of the will by obedience. This universal submission of yourself to God is what
you are to aim at. This is Religion.
Observe how extensive a thing it is. It is a
principle of the mind; founded upon thought,
reflection, inquiry, argument; and leading to
devotion and duty as most reasonable and
suitable for intelligent beings.
It is a sentiment or affection of the heart;
not the cold judgment of the intellect alone, in
favor of what is right; but a warm, glowing
feeling of preference and desire; a feeling,
which attaches itself in love to the Father of
all and to all good beings; which turns duty
into inclination, and pursues virtue from in.
7 
8       THE NATURE OF RELIGION.
pulse; which prefers and delights in that
which is well pleasing to God, and takes an
affectio:.ate interest in the things to which the
Saviour devoted himself.
It is a rule of life; it is the law of God;
causing the external conduct to correspond to
the principle which is established, and the
sentiment which breathes, within; bringing
every action into a conformity with the divine
will, and making universal holiness the standard of the character.
The Scriptures represent religion under
each of these different views. As a principle,
it is called Faith; and in this view is Faith
extolled as the essential thing for life and
saklation. We are to' walk by faith.' We
are'saved by  faith.'-As a sentiment,  it is
styled Love.  Love to God  and man  is de.
dclared by the Saviour to be the substance of
religion; and the Apostles, especially John
and Paul, every where represent this universal
affection as the essence and the beauty of the
Christian character. No one can read their
language, and compare with it the life of
Christ, without perceiving how essentially true
religion is a sentiment of the heart.-As a 
THE NATURE OF RELIGION.
law or rule, it is spoken of throughout the
Scriptures. It is a commandment of God,
requiring obedience. We are'to do his will.'
Christ is the'author of salvation to those that
obey him.''If thou wilt enter into life, keep
the commandments.'' He who keepeth my
commandments, he it is that loveth me.'
In the general complexion of Scripture, and
ill many particular passages, these several
views are united: thus we are told, that'the
fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suf.
fering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness,
temperance;' that the blessing of God belongs
to the humble, penitent, meek, pure in heart,
merciful, and peaceful; that the Christian
character consists in' whatsoever is true,
honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report;'
in adding to'faith, virtue, knowledge, temperance, patience, godliness, brotherly kindness, and charity;' and' in denying ungodliness and wordly lusts, and living soberly,
righteously, and godly.'*
You see, then, what is the character of the
* Gal. v. 22, 23.-Matthew; v. 3-9.-Philip. iv. 8.
-2 Peter, i. 6, 7-Titus, ii. 12.
B
9 
10     THE NATURE OF RELIG(ION.
religion which you are seeking. You per.
ceive that it implies the absolute supremacy
of the soul and its interests over all the objects and interests of the present state; and
that its primary characteristic is a certain state
of mind and affections. It is not the external
conduct, not the observance of the moral law
alone, which constitutes a religious man;
but the principles from which he acts, the
motives by which he is governed, the state of
his heart. A principle of spiritual life pervades his intellectual nature, gives a complexion
to his whole temper, and is the spring of that
moral worth, which is in other men the result
of education, circumstances, or interest.  lHe
is actuated by a prevailing sense of God, and
the desire of a growing resemblance to his
moral  image.   He  is possessed  with  the
perpetual consciousness of his immortality;
and is not ashamed to deny himself any of the
gratifications of the present hour, when thereby he may keep his mind more disengaged for
the study of truth and the contemplation of his
highest good. Living thus with his chief
sources of happiness-within him, he bears with
equanimity the changes and trials of earth, 
THE NATURE OF RELIGION.
and tastes something of the peculiar felicity of
heaven, which is'righteousness, and peace,
and joy in a holy spirit;' and, like his master,
who sojourned below, but whose affections
were above, he does his Father's will as he
passes through the world, but has treasured
up his supreme good in his Father's future
presence.
But if you would discern the full excellence
and loveliness of the religious life, do not
rest satisfied with studying the law, or musing
over the descriptions of it. Go to the perfect
pattern, which has been set before the be.
liever for his guidance and encouragement.
Look unto Jesus, the author and finisher of
your faith. In him are exhibited all the virtues which you are to practise, all the affections and graces which you are to cultivate.
In him is that rich assemblage of beautiful
and attractive excellences, which has been
the admiration of all reflecting men, the
astonishment and eulogy of eloquent unbe.levers, and the guide, consolation, and trust,
of faithful disciples.   In  the dignity and
sweetness which characterize him, how
E'rongly do we feel that there is much more
11 
12     rTHE NATURE OF RELIGION.
thani a display of external qualities, conformity to a prescribed rule, and graceful propriety
of outward  demeanor.    Nothing  is more
striking than the evident connexion of every
thing which he said and did with something
internal.    The  sentiment  and  disposition
which reign within, are constantly visible
through his exterior deportment; and we regard his words and his deeds less as distinct
outward things, than as expressions or representations of character.   As, in looking on
certain countenances, we have no thought of
color, feature, or form, but simply of the
moral  or intellectual qualities  which  they
suggest;  so, in  contemplating  the  life of
Jesus, we find ourselves perpetually looking
beyond his mere actions, and fixing our
thoughts on the qualities which they indicate.
His life is but the expressive countenance of
his soul. We feel, that, though in the midst
of present things, he is led by principles,
wrapt in thoughts, pervaded by sentiments,
which are above earth, unearthly; that he is
walking in communion with another sphere;
and that the objects around him are matters
of interest to him, no further than as thee 
THE NATURE OP RELIGION.
afford materials for the exercise of his benevolence, and opportunities for doing his Fa
ther's will.
This is the personification of religion.
This is the model which you are to imitate.
And it is when you shall be imbued with
this spirit, when you shall be filled with
this sentiment, when your words, actions,
and life, shall be only the spontaneous expression of this state of mind,-it  is then
that you will have attained the religious
character, and become spiritually the child
of God. You will have built up the kingdom of God within you; its purity, its devotion, and its peace, will be shed abroad in
your heart, and thence will display themselves in the manners and conduct of your life.
To attain and perfect this character is to
be the object of your desire, and the business of your life. You must never lose sight
of it. In all that you learn, think, feel, and
do, you are to have reference to this end.
Whatever tends to promote this, you are to
cherish  and favor.   Whatever hinders this,
or in any degree operates injuriously upon
it, you are to discountenance and shun. All
2
13 
14'HE NATURE OF RELIGION.
that gives bias to your passions and appe.
titer, to your inclinations and thoughts, to
your opinion of yourself, to your conduct
toward others, your private or public employment of your time, your business and gains,
your recreation and pleasures, is to be judged
of by this standard, and condemned or ap.
proved  accordingly.   You  are to feel that
nothing is of such consequence to you as the
Christian character; that to form this is the
very work for which you were sent into the
world; that if this be not done, you do nothing,-you had better never have been born;
for your life is wasted without effecting its
object, and your soul' enters eternity without
having secured its salvation. The provisions
of God's mercy are slighted, and, for you, the
Saviour has lived and died in vain.
It is plain, then, that the work to which you
address yourself is arduous as well as delightful. It is not to be done in a short time, nor
by a few indolent or violent efforts; not by an
exercise of speculative reason, nor by an ex
citement of feeling, nor by assent to professions, forms, and rites; not by a love of hearing the word preached, nor by attention 
THE NATURE OF RELIGtON.
to the morals of ordinary life, nor by steadfastness in the virtues which are easy and
pleasant;-but  only by  a  surrender of the
whole man and the entire life to the will of
God, in faith, affection, and action; by a
thorough imitation of Jesus in the devout
and humble temper of his mind, in the spirituality of his affections, and in the purity and
loveliness of his conduct.   Any  thing less
than this, any partial, external, superficial conformity to a rule of decent living or ritual
observance, must be wholly insufficient. For
it cannot mould and rule the character, cannot answer the claims of the Creator upon
his creatures, cannot prepare for the happi
ness which Jesus has revealed; a happiness
so described, and so constituted, that none can
be fitted for it, or be capable of enjoying it, but
those who are earnestly and entirely conformed
to the divine will. Who can relish the spiritual pleasures of eternity, that has not become
spiritually minded? Who could enjoy admis.
sion to the society of Jesus and the spirits of
the just made perfect, that is not like them'
Why should one hope for heaven, and how
expect to be happy there, if he have not
15 
16  THE NATURE OF RELIGION.
formed a taste for its habits of purity, worship,
and love?
Be on your guard, therefore, from the
first, against setting your mark too low. Do
not allow yourself to be persuaded that any
thing less is Religion, or will answer for you,
than its complete and highest measure.   Re
member that these things must be' in you and
abound.' The higher you aim, the higher
you will reach; but if content with a low
aim, you will forever fall short. The scriptural
word is Perfcctlon.  Strive after that.  Never
be satisfied whle short of it, and then you
will be  always  improving.   But if you set
yourself some definite measure of goodness,
if you prescribe to yourself some limit in
devotion and love, you will by and by fancy
you have reached it, and thus will remain
stationary in a condition far below what
vou might have attained. Remember always,
,,hat you  are capable of being more  devout,
Lore charitable, more humble, more devoted
.nd earnest in doing good, better acquainted
with religious truth; and tihat, as it is impossible there should be any peliqta to the progress of the human  soul, so it is impossible 
THE NATURE OF RELIGION.
that the endeavor of the soul should be too
exalted. It is because men do not think of
this, or do not practically apply it, that so
many, even of those who intend to govern
themselves  by  religious  motives, remain  so
lamentably deficient  in  excellence.   They
adopt a low or a partial standard, and strive
after it sluggishly, and thus come to a period
in religion before they arrive at the close of
life.  Happy they who are so filled with longings after spiritual good, that they go on im
proving to the end of their days.
17 
18       OUR POWER TO OBTAIN
CHAPTER II.
OUR POWER TO OBTAIN THAT WHI(.'H WE
SEEK.
THE account which has been given of religion in the preceding chapter, shows it to be
consonant to man's nature, and suited to the
faculties with which God has endowed him.
His soul is formed for religion, and  the gospel
has been adapted to the constitution of his
soul.   His  understanding takes cognizance
of its truths, his conscience applies them, his
affections are capable of becoming interested in
them, and his will of being subject to them.
There can be no moment of existence, after
he has come to the exercise of his rational
faculties, at which this is not the case. As
soon as he can love and obey his parents, he
can love and obey God; and this is religion.
The capacity of doing the one is the capacity
of doing the other.
It is true, the latter is not so universally
done as the former; but the cause is not, that 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK.
religion is unsuited to the young, but that
their attention is engrossed by visible objects
and present pleasures. Occupied with these,
it requires effort and pains-taking to direct
the mind to invisible things; to turn the
attention from the objects which press them
on every side, to the abstract, spiritual objects
of faith. Hence it is easy to see, that the
want of early religion is owing, primarily,
to the circumstances in which childhood is
placed, and, next, to remissness in education
Worldly things are before the child's eye,
and minister to its gratification every hour
and  every minute; but religious things are
presented to it only in a formal and dry way
once a week. The things of the world are
made to constitute its pleasures; those of
religion are made  its tasks.  It is made  to
feel its dependence on a parent's love every
hour; but is seldom reminded of its dependence on God, and then perhaps only in some
stated lesson, which it learns by compulsion,
and not in the midst of the actual engagements and pleasures of its little life. It
partakes of the caresses of its human parents,
and cannot remember the time when it
19 
20       OUR POWER TO OBTAIN
was not an object of their tenderness; so
that their image is interwoven with its very
existence. But God it has never seen, and
has seldom heard of him; his name and
presence are banished from common conver
sation, and inferior and visible agents receive
the gratitude for gifts which come from him.
So also the parent's authority is immediate
and visibly exercised, and obedience grows
into the rule and habit of life. But the
authority of God is not displayed in any
sensible act or declaration; it is only heard
of at set times and in set tasks; and thus it
fails of becoming mingled with the principles
of conduct, or forming a rule and habit of
subjection.-In a word, let it be considered
how little and how infrequently the idea of
God  is brought home to the child's mind,
even under the most favorable circumstances,
and how little is done to make him the
object of love and obedience, in comparison
with what is done to unite its affections
to its parents; while, at the same time, the
spirituality and  invisibility  of the  Creator
render it necessary that even more should
be done;-and it will be seen that the want 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK.
of al early and spontaneous growth of the
religious character is not owing to the want
of original capacity for religion, but is to be
traced to the unpropitious circumstances in
which childhood is passed, and the want of
uniform, earnest, persevering instruction.
I have made this statement for two rea
sons. First, because I think it points out
the immeuse importance of a religious education, and is an urgent call upon parents
for greater diligence in this duty.  No parent will deliberately say, in excuse for his
neglect, that his children are incapable of
apprehending and performing their duty to
God. He will perceive that the same operation of circumstances and of unceasing influences, which has made them devoted to
him, would make them devoted to God; and
religion is that state of mind toward God,
which a good child exercises toward a parent.
It is the same principle and the same affections, fixing themselves on an infinitely higher
object.  Let parents be aware of this, and
they will feel the call and the encouragement
to a more systematic and affectionate attention
to the religious instruction of their children.
21 
2   OUR POWER TO OBTAIN
I have made this statement, moreover, becautse it offers a guide to those who have
passed through childhood without permanent
religious impressions, and are now desirous
of attaining them. It is principally for such
that I write. They may be divided into
many classes; some more and some less
distant from the kingdom of God; some
profligate, some indifferent; some with much
goodness of outward performance, but with
no internal principle of faith and piety; and
some without even external conformity to
right. But however differing in their past
course of life, and in the peculiar habits
and dispositions which characterize them, in
one thing they now agree,-they are sensible
of their errors and sins, and desire to apply
themselves to that true and living way, which
shall lead them  to the favor of God  and
everlasting life. They feel that there is a
great work to be done, a great change to be
effected, ei;.her internally or externally, or
both, and tller are desirous to learn in what
manner it shall be accomplished.
To such persons the statement which I
have made above may be useful. Let them 
TEIIAT WHICH WE SEEK.
look back to it, and reflect upon it. God
has given them powers for doing the work
which he has assigned to them.  That work
is expressed in one word-the  comprehensive name Religion. That work they should
have begun and perseveringly pursued from
their earliest days. But they hav-e done
otherwise. They have wandered from duty,
and been unfaithful to God. They have
gone far from him, like the unwise prodigal
and wasted the portion he gave them in
vicious or unprofitable pursuits. They have
cultivated the animal life; they have lived
'according to the flesh.'  They need to cultivate the spiritual life; to live'according
to the spirit.' There is an animal life, and
there is a spiritual life. Man is born into
the first at the birth of his body; he is born
into the second when he subjects himself to
the power of religion, and prefers his rational and immortal to his sensual nature. Durimg his earliest days, he is an animal only,
pursuing, like other animals, the wants and
desires of his body, and consulting his present gratification and immediate interest. But
it is not designed that he shall continue thus.
23 
24   OUR POWER TO OBTAIN
He is made for something better and higher
He has a nobler nature and nobler interests.
He must learn to live for these; and this
learning to feel and value his spiritual nature,
and to live for eternity; this change from
the animal and earthly existence of infancy,
to a rational, moral, spiritual existence,-this
it is to be born into the spiritual life. This is
a renovation of principle and purpose through
which every one must pass. Every one must
thus turn from his natural devotion to things
earthly to a devotion to things heavenly.
This change it is the object of the gospel to
effect; and we seek no less than this, when
we seek the influence of the gospel on our
souls.
Now, the persons of whom I am speaking
have not yet acquired this new taste and principle. It has made with them no part of
the process of education.   It is yet to be
acquired.   They are desirous  of acquiring
it. Let them first be persuaded of its absolute
necessity. Until this is felt, nothing can be
effectually done. Without it, there will be no
such strenuous effort for religious attainment
as is necessary to success.   Many  persons 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK.
have at times, some have frequently, a certain
conviction upon their minds, that they are
not passing their lives as they ought, and
they make half a resolution to do differently.
They are ill content with their condition; they
long to be free from the reproaches of conscience; they wish to be assured that their
souls are safe. But, although uneasy and dissatisfied, they take no steps towards improving
their condition, because they have no proper
persuasion of its absolute necessity. They must
be deeply c6nvinced of this. They must strong
ly feel that a state of indifference is a state of
danger; that they are on the brink of ruin,
so long as they are alienated from God, and
governed by passion, appetite, and inclination,
rather than a sense of duty. And such is
the power of habit, that they in vain hope to
be delivered from its bondage, and to become
consistent followers of Christ, unless a strong
feeling shall lead them to make a resolute,
energetic effort. If they allow themselves to
fancy that it will be time enough by and by;
that, after all, the case is not very desperate,
but can be remedied at any time; and that
it would be a pity yet to abandon their pleas.
3
251 
26       OUR POWER TO OBTAIN
ant vices;-then there is no hope for them.
They are cherishiug the most dangerous of all
states of mind; a state, which prevents all real
desire for improvement, is conitinually weakening their power of change, and absolutely
destroys the prospect of amendment. They
must begin the remedy by a persuasion of its
necessity. They must feel it so strongly, that
they cannot rest content without immediately
subjecting themselves to the dominion of religion,-as a starving man feels the necessity of
immediately applying to the search for food.
No man will give himself to the thoughts,
studies, devotions, and charities, of a religious
life, who does not find them essential to the
satisfaction and peace of his mind, that is,
who is satisfied without them. Cherish therefore the conviction of this necessity. Cultivate
by every possible means a deep persuasion
of the truth, that the service and love of God
are the only sufficient sources of happiness;
and that only pain and shame can await him
who withholds his soul from the light and
purity for which it was made.
Feeling thus the importance of a religious
life, let them next be persuaded that its attain 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK.
ment is entirely in their power.  It is but to
use the faculties which God has given them,
in the work and  with the aid which  God
has appointed.   No  one  will  venture  to
say that he is incapable of this.  A religious
life, as we have seen, grows out of the relations in which man stands to God atid his fellow men; and as he is made accountable for
the performance of the duties of these relations, it is impossible that he is not created
capable of performing them. It were as reasonable to urge that a child cannot love and
obey its father and mother, as that a man
cannot love and obey God.
Yet it so happens, that some profess to be
deterred from a religious course, by the apprehension that it is not in their power; it is
something which it must be given them to
do; a work which must be wrought in them
by a supernatural energy; they must wait till
their time has come. But every apology for
irreligion, founded on reasons like this, is evidently deceptive. It proceeds upon wrong
notions respecting the divine aid imparted to
man. That this aid is needed and is given in
the Christian life, is a true and comforting 
2   OTTR POWER TO OBTAIN
doctrine. But that it is to supersede human
exertion, that it is a reason for iindolence
and religious neglect, is a false and pernicious
notion,-countenanced, I will venture to affirm, by no one whose opinion or example is
honored or followed in the Christian church
On the contrary, all agree in declaring with
the Apostle, that while' God works in us to
will and to do,' we are to' work out our own
salvation;' and to do it with'fear and trembling,' because, after all, these divine influences
*ill be vain without our own diligence.
In some persons, this notion takes the form
of a real or fancied humility. They fear lest
they be found seeking salvation through their
own works, and relying on their own merits.
3ut what a strange humility this, which leads
to a disregard of the divine will, and disobedience to the divine commands; which virtually
says,' I will continue in sin that grace may
abound!' Let me ask, too, Who will trust to
receive salvation without actual obedience?
Where is it promised to those who will do
nothing in the way of self-government and
active virtue? Where is it offered to any, but
those who seek it by' bringing forth fruits 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK.
mneet for repentance,' and by'patient continu ance in well-doing?'
And let none fear lest this make void the
grace of God. For how is it that grace leads
to salvation?  Is it by arbitrarily fitting the
soul for it, and ushering it into heaven without its own cooperation? Or is it not rather
by opening a free highway to the kingdom of
life, through which all may walk and be saved?
This is what the Saviour has done; he has
made the path of life accessible and plain, has
thrown open the gate of heaven, has taught
men how to enter in and reach their bliss.
Whoever pursues this path, and enters
'through the gate into the city,' is saved by
grace.   For  though he has  used his own
powers to travel on this highway, yet he did
not establish that highway; nor could he have
traversed it without guidance and aid; nor
could he have opened for himself the door of
entrance. Heaven is still a free gift, inasmuch
as it is granted by infinite benignity to those
who did not, do not, and cannot deserve it.
Yet there are certain conditions to be performed. And to refuse the performance of those
conditions, on the plea that you thus derogate
3*
29 
0   OUR POWER TO OBTAIN
from the mercy of God, and do something to
purchase or merit happiness, is a madness
which ought to be strenuously opposed, or it
will leave you to perish in your sins.
These two things, then, may be regarded as
axioms of the religious life; first, that a
man's own labors are essential to h;.s salvation;
second, that his utmost virtue does nothing
toward purchasing or meriting salvation.
When he has done all his duty, he is still, as
the Saviour declares, but an' unprofitable servant.' Ite has been more than recompensed
by the blessings of this present life.  That
the happiness of an eternal state may be
attained, in addition to these, is a provision of
pure grace; and it is mere insanity to neglect
the duties of religion through any fear lest
you should seem to be seeking heaven on the
ground of your own desert. Virtue would be
your duty, though you were to perish forever
at the grave; and that God has opened to his
children the prospect of a future inheritance
infinitely disproportioned to their merit, is only
a further reason for making virtue your first
and chief pursuit.
It is true there is great infirmity in human 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK.
nature, and you will find yourself perplexed
and harassed by temptations from without
and within.   Passion, appetite, pleasure, and
care, solicit and urge you, and render it not
easy to keep yourself unspotted from the
world. But what then? Does this excuse
the want of exertion? Is this a good reason
for sitting idly with folded arms, and saying,
It is all vain; I am wretchedly weak; I cannot undertake this work, till God gives me
strength? Believe me, there is no humility
in this. Think of yourself and of your deserts as humbly as you please; but to think so
meanly of the powers God has given you, as
to deem them insufficient for the work he has
assigned you, is less humility than ingratitude
and want of faith.  Nothing is truer than
this,-that your work is proportioned to your
powers, and your trials to your strength.'No
temptation hath taken you but such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will
not suffer you to be tempted above that ye
are able; but will, with the temptation, also
make a way to escape, that ye may be able to
bear it.' Here is the manifestation of peculiar
grace; when a sincere and humble spirit, in
31 
32  OUR POWER TO OBTAIN
its earnest search for the true way, encounters
obstacles, hardships, and opposition, at this
moment it is, that aid from on high is interposed.  The promise to Paul is fulfilled,'My
strength is made perfect in weakness.'' The
spirit  helpeth our infirmities.'   Let it be,
then, that human nature is weak; no work is
appointed greater than its power, and it' can
do all things through Christ who wtrengtheneth.'
Be thoroughly persuaded, therefore, that the
work before you is wholly within your power.
Nothing has a more palsying effect on one's
exertions in any enterprise, than the doubt
whether he be equal to it. Something like
confidence is necessary to enable him to pursue it vigorously and perseveringly. It is as
necessary in action, as the Apostle represents
it to be in prayer.'He that wavereth or
doubteth is like a wave of the sea, driven by
the wind and tossed.' But when he has confidence, as the Christian may have, that his
strength is equal to his task, that he cannot fail
if he resolutely go forward, and that all hinderances must disappear before a steady and industrious zeal, which leans upon God, and is 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK.
strong in the power of the Lord,-then he
presses on with alacrity, encounters trials without alarm, and is'steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord;
knowing that his labor is not in vain in the
Lord;' for that nothing but his own fault can
bar him out of heaven, or cause him to fail of
eternal life.
And all this is perfectly consistent with the
deepest humility, and the profoundest sense of
dependence on God.
D
33 
34         THE STATE OF MIND
CHAPTER III.
THE STATE OF MIND IN WHICH THE INQUIREI
SHOULD SUSTAIN HIMSELF.
ALL this, I say, is perfectly consistent with
the deepest humility and most unassuming dependence upon God. If it were not, it would
be false and wrong; for a humble and dependent disposition is a prime requisite in the
Christian; a grace to be especially cultivated
at the beginning of the religious course. It is
concerning this state of mind that we are now
to speak.
Deep religious impressions are always accompanied by a sense of personal unworthiness, and not unfrequently commence with
it. It is man's acquaintance with himself,
which leads him most earnestly to seek the acquaintance of God, and to perceive the need
of his favor. The sense of sin, the feeling
that his life has not been right, that his heart
is not pure, that his thoughts, dispositions, appetites, passions, have not been duly regulated, 
NECESSARY FOlt THE INQUIRER.    35
that he has lived according to his own will, and
not that of God, that, if taken from his worldly
possessions, he has no other object of desire
and affection to which his heart could cling,
if called to judgment for the use of his powers
and privileges, he must be speechless and
hopeless; all this rises solemnly to his mind,
and sinks him low under a sense of ill desert
and shame. He sees that he might have been)
ought to have been, better; that he might
have been, ought to have beep, obedient to
God, and a follower of all that is good. He
cannot excuse himself to himself. Every effort
to palliate his guilt, only shows him its aggravation; and he cries out, with the penitent prodigal,'Father, I have sinned against heaven, and
in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be call.
ed thy son.'   He has offended against knowledge and opportunity, and in spite of instruction
and warning. He looks back to the early and
innocent days, when, if his Saviour had been
on earth, he might have taken him to his arms,
and said,'Of such is the kingdom of God.'
But, alas! how has he been changed! He has
parted with that innocence, lie has strayed
from the kingdom of heaven, he has defiled 
36        THE bTATE OF MIND
and lost the image of his Maker. While he
dwells on this thought of what he was, and
what he might have become, and contrasts it
with  hat he is, he is filled with remorse. He
exaggerates to himself all his failings, paints,
in blacker colors than even the truth, all his
iniquities, counts himself the chief of sinners,
and is almost ready to despair of mercy.
When the mind is strongly agitated in this
way, it is surprising how the characters of very
different men become, as it were, equalized.
Of many individuals, differing in the most
various ways as regards the number and nature,
the magnitude and circumstances of their offences, and most widely separated in the ac
tual scale of demerit, each, at such a season,
regards himself as the most guilty of men.
Sometimes the high-wrought expressions, in
which the victim of remorse vents the excruciating anguish of his mind, are accounted affectation and hypocrisy.  But there can be no
good reason to doubt that they are entirely sin.
cere. The man honestly describes himself as
he seems to himself at the time. He is, in his
own eyes, the wretch he draws. And this is
very easily explained. He sees at one view 
NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER.   37
all his past sins, open and secret, his thoughtlessness, ingratitude, negligence, and omissions, his depraved inclinations, evil desires,
and cherished lusts, which no one else knows,
and which no one else could compare, as he
can, with his privileges and obligations. All
these he sets by the side, not of the hidden and
private life of others, but of their decent public
demeanor. He compares them, too, not with
the standard of worldly, outward morality, but
with the strict, searching, holy requisitions of
the law of God. And in such a comparison,
at such a moment, he cannot but regard himself as most unworthy and depraved.
And we need not be too anxious at once to
correct this feeling. The abasement is well;
for no one can feel guilt too strongly, or abhor sin too deeply. The time will come,
when he will learn to follow the direction of
the Apostle, and'think of himself soberly,
as he ought to think.' But at this first fair
inspection of the deformities of his character,
it is not to be expected that he should make
his estimate with perfect sobriety. Only let
every thing be done to guide, and soothe, and
encourage him, and nothing to exasperate
4 
38        THE STATE OF MIND
his self-condemnation, or drive him to insanity
or despair.
But such a state of mind as I have describ.
ed, though not uncommon, and by many
cherished as the most desirable and suitable
at the commencement of the religious life
is by no means universal at that period, and
cannot be regarded as essential. The experience of different individuals in this respect
greatly varies, and is much affected by temper
and disposition, as well as by other circumstances. Many excellent Christians have
never been subjected to those violent and
torturing emotions, which have shaken ana
convulsed others. Their course has been
placid and serene, though solemn and humble.
They have felt their sin, and have mourned
beneath it, and in deep humiliation have
sought its forgiveness; but without any thing
of terrified emotion or gloomy despondency.
They have been gently won to truth by the
mild invitations of parental love, without
needing the fearful denunciations of punishment and wrath to awaken them. This
difference among individuals is owing partly,
as I said, to constitutional difference of ternm 
NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER.    39
perament, which renders it impossible that
the same representations should affect all
alike; and partly to the different modes in
which religion is presented to different minds;
having first appeared to some in its harsher
features, as to the Jews on Sinai, and to others
in the milder form of a Saviour's compassion
But however this may be, and however the
humiliation of one may wear a different
complexion from that of another, it is a state
of mind sincere and heartfelt in all, to be
studiously cherished, and to be made permanent in the character.
In the beginning of the Christian life, this
feeling assumes the form of anxiety, as it
afterward leads to watchfulness.   This word
may, perhaps as well as any, describe the
state of those for whom  I am writing.  They
are anxious about themselves, about their
characters, their condition, their prospects.
They are anxious to know what they shall
do to be saved, and to gain satisfactory assurance that they shall be pardoned and accepted
of God. This is a most reasonable solicitude.
What can be more reasonable than such a
solicitude for the greatest and most lasting 
40         THE STATE OF MIND
good  of  man?  What  more  becoming  a
rational creature, whose eternal welfare is
dependent on his own choice between good
and evil, than this desire to know antl pursue
the right? this earnest thoughtfulness respecting his condition?  and  this iniquiry for the
true end of his being? If a person, hitherto
thoughtless, is in this state of mind, he is to
be congratulated upon it. We are to be
thankful to God in his behalf, that another
immortal soul is awake to its responsibility,
and seeking real happiness. We would urge
him to cherish the feelings which possess him;
not with melancholy despondency; not with
superstitious gloom; not with unmanly and
unmeaning debasement; but with thoughtful,
self-distrusting concern, with deliberate study
for the path of duty, and a resolute purpose
not to swerve from it.
Remember that much depends, I might
say, every thing depends, on the use you
make of this your present disposition. Be
faithful to it, obey its promptings, let it form
:n you the habit of devout reflection and
religious action, and all must be well. The
issue will be the Christian character, and the 
NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER.    41
soul's salvation. But refuse to cherish this
disposition, drive it from you, smother and
silence it, and you will probably do yourself
an  everlasting  injury.   It  is  like  putting
out a fire which has just been lighted, and
which may with difficulty be kindled again.
It is trifling with the sensibility of conscience,
it is bringing hardness upon your heart; and
there is less prospect that you will afterward
arrive at an habitual and controlling regard
for your religious interests. This it is to
'quench the spirit.'
Be sensible, therefore, that this is a critical
moment in the history of your character, that
it is in many respects the decisive point at
which your destiny is to be determined. For
now it is, in all probability, that the bias of
your mind is to be determined for good or
evil. Be sensible, then, how necessary it is
that you keep alive, and cultivate by all possible means, this tenderness of heart. Avoid
every pursuit, engagement, and company,
which you find to be inconsistent with it, or
unfavorable to it, or tending to destroy it.
Scenes at other times innocent, should now
be shunned, if they operate to turn the current
4*                  F 
42        THE STATE OF MIND
of your affections; for you are engaging in a
great work, the giving your heart a permanent
bias toward  God, and it ought  not to be
interrupted. While this is doing, you can
well affo)rd to withdraw from many scenes you
might otherwise frequent, and indeed you can
ill afford the risk of exposing yourself to their
influence.
It may be well to observe another caution.
Say nothing of your thoughts and  feelings
to any, but one or two confidential friends.
Many a religious character has been spoiled
in the forming, by too much talk with too
many persons. The best religious character
is  formed  in  retirement, by  much  silent
reflection, and private reading  and  prayer.
What  the soul needs above all things, is to
commune with itself and with God; then it
is established, strengthened, settled. But if
a man  go out from his closet, and seek for
instruction and guidance by talking with all
who will talk with him, he fritters away his
feelings; his frame becomes less deeply and
essentially spiritual; words  take  the  place
of sentiment; and he is very likely to be.
come a talkative, fluent, superficial religion 
NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER.    43
ist, with much show of sound doctrine, and
a goodly readiness of sound speech, but
without substantial principle. Shun, there
fore, rather than seek, much communication
with many persons. But some counsel and
encouragement you may need. Apply, therefore, to your minister. He is your legitimate
and true counsellor, and he will be glad, in
friendly and confidential intercourse, to lead
you on.  You  may  have  also some  pious
friend, to whom, possibly, you may unbosom
yourself more freely than you have courage to
do to your minister; and he may, in some
particulars, give you aid, which the situation
of the pastor may put it out of his power to
afford. In this manner, feel your way along
quietly, silently, steadily. Let the growth
within you be like that of the grain of wheat,
which germinates in secret, and springs up
without observation, and attracts little notice
of men, till it shows'the ear and the full
corn in the ear.' Be anxious to establish
yourself firmly in the power of godliness,
before you exhibit its form.
In connexion with this, it may be well to
add a caution on a kindred point. Do not 
44        THE STATE OF MIND
spend too much time in public meetings
You will, of course, be desirous to hear the
prearmhing of the gospel.  You feel as if you
could not hear it too often or too much. You
wonder that preaching should never before
have seemed so interesting. You listen with
unstopped ears; and prayers, hymns, and
sermons, fall upon your spirit as if you had
been gifted with a new sense. It is well that
it is so. By all means cherish this ardent
interest  in  public  worship.   But  do  not
indulge it to excess. Let your moderation
be seen in giving to this its proper place and
importance in your time and regard. It is
not the only religious enjoyment or means of
improvement in your power; and it may
possibly be mere self-indulgence which carries
one from meeting to meeting. Remember
that no duty towards others is to be neglected
in the search for personal improvement; this
would be sin. And it is at times a higher
duty to attend to your family, to be with your
friends, to instruct your children, to consult
the feelings and yield to the prejudices of a
husband or wife, a parent, brother or sister,
than it is to pursue your own single advantage, 
NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER.    45
it may be your own gratification, by going olit
to social worship. And if it be your object
to please God or discipline your own spirit,
you will better effect that object by this
exercise of self-denial, than by doing what
would give uneasiness to others, and perhaps
even alienate them from you, and render them
hostile to religion itself. The advice of the
Apostle to wives is in force on this point, and
is equally applicable to the other social
relations:' Ye wives, be in subjection to your
own husbands; that if any obey not the word,
they may, without the word, be won by the
conversation of the wives; while they behold
your chaste conversation coupled with fear.'
Be warned, therefore, against this error.
And what are you to lose by the course which
I recommend? Believe me, however much
may be gained by the sympathy and excitement of a public assembly, quite as much is
gained by the sacrifice of your inclinations
to duty and to the feelings of others, and by
the silent, unwitnessed exercises of retirement,
which no one can forbid you. Look not at
the present moment, but at the end. Your
desire is to form a genuine, solid, thorough, 
46      THE STATE OF MIEND, &C.
permanent character of devotion. Well; try
to form it wholly in the excitement, and beneath the external influence, of public meetings, and it will be such a character as can
exist only in such scenes.  Your piety will
always need the presence and voice of men
to keep it alive, and, unsustained by them,
will sink away and die. This, at least, is the
danger to be apprehended; and experience
declares that it is no slight one. But form
your character in private, build it up by the
action of your own mind, under the direction
of the Bible, and by intercourse with the
Father of spirits,-and then it will always be
independent of other men  and of outward
circumstances. It will be self-sustained on a
foundation which man and earth cannot shake,
alike powerful in the solitude and in the crowd,
and immovable in steadfastness, though all
other men prove false, and faith have fled all
other bosoms. It is such a piety that belongs
to the Christian; it is such that you are to
seek; and you may well be apprehensive of
failure, if you neglect this salutary caution. 
MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 47
CHAPTER IV.
THE MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
THE means to be used in order to render
permanent your religious impressions, and
promote the growth of your character, are now
to be considered. They may be arranged under the following heads:-Reading, Meditation, Prayer, Hearing the word preached, and
the Lord's Supper.
I. READING.
I begin with the more private means; and I
speak of reading first, because it is in the perusal of the Scriptures that the beginning of
religious knowledge is to be found. It is they
which testify of Christ, and have the words of
eternal life. It is they which make wise unto
salvation. And it is through a devout acquaintance with them, that the mind and
heart grow in the knowledge and love of God,
and that the dispositions are formed which
prepare for heaven. Every one may read the 
48 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
Bible, and, such is its plainness and simplicity
in all matters pertaining to life and godliness,
that if he be able to read nothing else, he may
yet learn all that is essential to duty and ace
ceptance. Hence it has happened, that many,
to whom circumstances have interdicted all
general acquaintance with books, have gathered, from their solitary study of the Bible alone,
a wisdom which has expanded and elevated
their minds, and a peace which has raised
them above the darkness and trials of an unhappy worldly lot.
There are those whose condition in life is
such, that they have very little time or means
to devote to books, and it were vain to recommend to them that they should seek instruction beyond the sacred pages, and the simplest
elementary works of devotion. While, therefore, it is the undoubted duty of every one to
make the utmost possible progress in religious
knowledge, no one is to be condemned for that
omission of study and ignorance of books
which are rendered unavoidable by circum.
stances. We must make a distinction, it has
been truly said, between that which is the
duty of all, and may be done by all, that is, a 
READING.
careful and devout perusal of the Scriptures,
and that which is the duty, because within the
ability, only of a more  limited number,-the
study of other sources of knowledge and virtue. These every one must pursue in proportion to his leisure and means.
The class of those who have the leisure and
means is large and numerous; it is to be
wished that they were more alive to their obligation to improve themselves accordingly. I
know not how it happens, that serious and
devout persons are so content to be ignorant
on those great topics which they truly feel to
transcend all others in importance. It certainly deserves their consideration, whether this
indifference be either creditable or right.
Caplacity and opportunity form the measure
of duty; and if they have received the power
and means of cultivating their minds and adding to their treasures of truth and thought,
they should regard it as an intimation that this
is required of them.  They should rot esteem
it enough to be sincere and conscientious;
they should desire to be well-informed; wellinformed respecting the interpretation of the
more difficult and curious portions of holy writ.
5
49 
50 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
respecting the history and transmission of the
records of their faith, the fortunes of the
church in successive ages, the effects of their
religion and of other religions on the world,
the past and present state of religious opinions, the past and present operations of
Christian benevolence, the means of doing
good, and the lives, labors, and speculations of
the eminent professors of their faith. Now, all
this is to be known only through books; and
in order to attain it, a judicious selection of
books, and an appropriation of certain seasons
for reading, are primarily requisite. The bare
importance and interest of these subjects ought
to be a sufficient inducement to the adoption
of this course.
There are many other considerations which
render it worthy of attention. The preaching
of divine truth becomes far more profitable to
those who have prepared themselves for it by
the information thus acquired. Words are
used in the pulpit, modes of speech occur, al.
lusions are made, and facts and reasonings re.
ferred to, which presuppose an acquaintance
with certain subjects, and which are entirely
lost to those who never read. The better a 
READING.
hearer is furnished with preliminary knowl.
edge, the greater pleasure will he derive from
the pulpit; because the better will he understand and appreciate the sentiments expressed.
At present, such is the uninformed character
of a large portion of ordinary congregations,
that a minister is compelled to pass by many
modes of illustration, and many represenrtations of truth and duty, because they would
be to a great majority unintelligible, and therefore unprofitable. Instead of going on to perfection in the proclamation of higher and
wider views, he is compelled, as the Apostle
complained in a similar case, to confine himself'to the first principles of the oracles of
God.' Some teachers, unwilling or unable
thus to adapt themselves to the actual stature
of their hearers' minds, pursue their own
modes of thought and expression, without regard to their audience; and, while they
gratify a few reading and thinking men, leave
the mass of the people uninstructed and unaffected. Herein is a sad error. But if the
preacher must adapt himself to the hearers, the
hearers ought to prepare themselves for the
preaching. This is to be done by greater
51 
52  MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
familiarity with religious books. They would
then be ready for higher and more extensive
themes, and for a wider scope of illustration,
while the preacher would cease to feel himself fettered. At present, warmed and filled,
as his mind must often be, by large contemplation and exalted study, he sometimes unconsciously speaks that which is an unknown
tongue to the unlettered man, though delightful and wholesome to him whose habits of
reading have prepared him to receive it.
Further still. It might do for mere men of
the world, who professedly seek only worldly
good, and hold of little worth the goods of the
mind,-it might do for them to neglect books
and thinking, and spend all their precious
leisure in idle recreations. They are living
for the body. But it is the distinction of the
Christian, that he lives for the soul, for his intellectual and moral nature, for that part of
him which is noblest now, and hicch alone
shall live for ever. He has passed out of
the animal, into the spiritual, life. It is not for
him to omit or neglect any suitable means of
intellectual or moral cultivation.   Ile is guilty
of criminal inconsistency, he is a traitor to his 
READING.
own mind, if he refuse to nourish it, systematically, with knowledge and truth.   To
keep it inactive and ignorant, is to keep it degraded. Jesus lived and died for it, that it
might attain the truth, and that the truth
might make it free. But what is the freedom
of the mind bound in the fetters of ignorance?
Freedom and elevation can come to it only
through knowledge, and one chief fountain of
knowledge is books. These inform and excite
it, and furnish food for thought. Thought is
exercise; it is to the mind what motion is to
the body. Without it, there is neither health
nor strength. And when God has graciously
ordered that your lot should be cast amid the
abundance of books, where you need only put
forth your hand and be supplied; when he
thus makes easy to you that intellectual and
moral attainment which is the soul's dignity
and happiness; I see not how you can answer
it to your conscience, if you do not sacredly
devote to this object a certain portion of your
leisure.
In regard to the quantity of time to be thus
employed, no uniform rule can be given.
Men vary so much in occupation, opportunity,
5*
53 
54  MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
and leisure, that, while one may easily come
mand hours, another can with difficulty secure
minutes.  On this point every one must be
left to the decision of his own conscience
Inquire of that, impartially and seriously, and
then determine how large a portion of time
you can daily give to this great object. I be
lieve it may be laid down as certain, that most
persons may afford to it a great deal more than
they imagine. Some make no effort to do any
thing, because they can effect so little that
they account it not worth the effort. But they
should remember, that duty does not consist in
doing great things, but in doing what we can;
and that, if they would redeem from the hurry
of business and the relaxation of sleep one
quarter of an hour a day, it would be a more
praiseworthy offering than the many hours
which are given by others. Even five minutes
a day would be worth something, would be invaluable to one who was earnestly bent on
using it. It would amount in a year to about
thirty hours; and who will say that it is not
better to improve the mind for thirty hours
than not at all? But I am persuaded that
there is scarcely any one, however engrossed 
READING.
in necessary cares, who may not find much
more time than this-who may not find an
hour a day. By greater care of the minutes
which he wastes, by abridging a little from his
meals, a little from his pleasures, and a little
from his sleep, it would be easily accomplish
ed. If one be in earnest, as he should be, if
he seek for wisdom as for gold, and for understanding as for hid treasure, it will be no impossible thing to find the requisite time. Few men
but could readily gain an hour a day, if they
were to gain by it a dollar a day. Indeed, it is
often seen, in actual life, that a person, to whom
religion has become an object of deep concern,
contrives to devote to his books more time
than this, though before he would have
thought it impossible. Nothing is wanting
but the'willing mind.' If one feel the
necessity, every thing else  will  give  Nway.
Rather than remain ignorant and without prog
ress in the truth, he will cheerfully watch an
hour later at night, and rise an hour earlier in
the morning. The gain to the mind will
more than balance the inconvenience to the
body.
You may regard it, then, as some proof of
55 
56 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
the sincerity and earnestness of your desire
for improvement, if you find yourself able to
appropriate a certain portion of time to profitable reading. It is important that you select
for this purpose those hours which shall be
least liable to interruption, and that you allow
nothing to infringe upon them. Keep this as
holy time. Be punctual and faithful to it, as
the banker to his hours of business.
There are seasons in every one's vocation,
at which his business is less pressing than at
others; and there are also seasons of leisure,
which he feels at liberty to take for recreation
and amusement. As you will have lost all
taste for frivolous amusement and unprofitable
pleasures, you will be able to devote all such
seasons to the improvement of your mind;
and, instead of the theatre and the ball-room,
from which you would have returned fatigued
in body and distracted in mind, and to some
extent unfitted for duty, you will enjoy the
converse of the great minds which have blessed
the world, and, after filling your soul with their
thoughts, will go back to your ordinary duty
with a spirit refreshed and invigorated, and a
body unwearied. During the season of long 
READING.
evenings, especially, when so many are hurrying from diversion to diversion, as if this long
leisure were provided them only that they may
contrive how ingeniously they can throw it
away,-you will perceive that you have a most
favorable opportunity for pursuing extensive researches, and making large acquisitions of
knowledge. Evening after evening, in your
own quiet retirement, you will sit down to this
instructive application. By this diligence what
progress may you make! what volumes may
you master! to what extent may you penetrate
the secrets of science, acquire a knowledge
of history and of letters, and become enriched
with those great and various treasures of intellect, which are subservient to the growth of
the mind and the glory of God! You will
thus be using time for the purpose for which
it was given,-the ripening and perfecting of
your immortal  m'nd; and, at all intervals of
release from duty to others, will make it your
happiness to be thus performing a great duty
to yourself.
In your selection of books, the Bible will,
of course, hold the first place. This is to be
read daily, and to be your favorite book. Re
57 
58 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
member, however, that it may be perused in
such a manner, that it were better never to have
opened it. If studied inattentively, for form's
sake, or only for the purpose of gathering
arguments to support your opinions, it is read
irreligiously, and therefore unprofitably. You
must habitually regard it as uttering instructions with a voice of authority, of which you
are earnestly to seek the true meaning, and
then submissively to obey them. You must
never forget that your hopes of right instruction are suspended on the simplicity and fidelity with which you receive those holy words;
and as they were written expressly to make
you wise unto salvation, no inferior purpose
must distract your attention from this.
You will therefore always have in view two
objects-to understand the book, and to apply
it to your own heart and character.
The study of the Bible, for the purpose of
understanding it, is an arduous labor. Dr.
Johnson said of the New Testament, "It is
the most difficult book in the world, for which
the labor of a life is required." No book re.
quires greater and more  various  aid.  Its
thorough interpretation is a science by itself;. 
READING.
and you must ask of those, in whose judgment
you confide, to point out the requisite helps for
this interesting investigation; to enable you to
reach the pure text, and arrive at the meaning
of every passage as it lay in the mind of the
writer. Recollect that a passage standing by
itself may bear a very good meaning, which yet
was not the meaning designed; and make it a
sacred rule, not to receive or quote it in any
other sense than that which belongs to it in its
original place. The neglect of this rule has
occasioned much misinterpretation and misap.
plication of scripture; and some passages
have come to be familiarly understood and
cited in senses altogether foreign from their
proper imnport. This is a perversion; and it is
an immense evil to have wrong ideas thus
fastened upon the language of the sacred
writers.
And be not afraid of examining the text
scrupulously, and employing the utmost energy of your mind in discovering and determine
ing its true sense. It is a duty to do this
You can decide between opposing and possible interpretations only by applying your own
mind to judge between them; and the more
59 
60 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
keenly, impartially, and fearlessly you proceed,
the greater the probability that your decision
will be correct. On this point some persons
greatly err. They seize on the first meaning
which presents itself to their minds, or has
been presented by another, and resolutely
abide by it; they refuse to investigate further,
lest they should be guilty of irreverently trying
the divine word by their own fallible reason.
Indulge no such weakness as this. Never, indeed, be guilty for a moment of the insane folly
and sin of disputing the authority of revela.
tion, or setting up your reason as a superior
light and safer guide. But in deciding upon
the meaning of scripture, you cannot use your
intellectual powers too much or too acutely.
Use them constantly, coolly, impartially, with
the best aid you can obtain from human
authors, and then you may rest satisfied that
you have done your duty,-have done all
which you could do toward learning the truth;
and if you have accompanied it with prayer
for a blessing from the Source of truth and
wisdom, you cannot have failed, in any
essential  point,  to  ascertain  the  will  of
God. 
READING.
But there is another object,-the applica.
tion of scripture to the forming of the heart
and character. This is a higher object than
the other, and may be effected in cases where
very little of rigid scrutiny can be made into
the dark places of the divine word. Blessed
be God, it is not necessary, in order to salvation, that one should comprehend all the
things hard to be understood, or be able to follow out the train of reasoning in every Epistle,
and restore the text in every corruption. Do
all this as much as you can. But when you
read, as it were for your life; when you take
the Bible to your closet, to be the help and
the solitary witness of your prayers; when
you take it up as a lamp which you are to
hold to your heart, for the purpose of searching into its true state, that you may purify
and perfect it;-then put from your mind all
thoughts of differing interpretations and various readings, and the perplexities of criticism
and translation. You have only to do with
what is spiritual and practical. You are no
more a scholar, seeking for intellectual
guidance, bit a sinful and accountable crea.
ture, asking for help in duty, and deliverance
6
61 
62 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROYEMENT.
from an evil world and an evil heart. Read,
therefore, as if on your knees. Make your
heart feel and respond to every sentiment.
Apply to yourself with rigor every precept
and warning; and according to the character
of the passage, let your mind glow with fervor,
and be uplifted in holy adoration and devout
gratitude, or be thrilled and humbled by the
representations of infinite purity and justice,
or melted and borne away by the tones of
tender love and long-suffering grace. Suffer
yourself to read nothing coldly, when you
read for spiritual improvement.   You might
as lawfully pray coldly. Therefore let your
reading be like your prayers,-done with all
your heart. And be sensible that it is better
to go over one short passage many times, till
you fully grasp its sentiment, and grow warm
with it, than to run over hastily and unfeelingly many chapters.
You are not to suppose, from what has been
said, that you are altogether to separate these
two modes of reading the Scriptures. On the
contrary, it will greatly aid you in unravelling
their true meaning, to carry to their interpretation a devout mind, wakeful to the impres 
READING.
sion of their moral beauty, and in sympathy
with their divine origin; since nothing is truer
than this,-that a study is rendered easy by
the interest of the affections in it, and that
difficulties disappear before the excitement of
feeling. And, on the other hand, when you
are reading expressly for improvement and devotion, you will recur, without effort, and consequently without interruption, to the results
of your cooler inquiry, and spontaneously
make use of the interpretations which your
critical scrutiny has proved to be just.
The cautions thus briefly sketched are important for two reasons; one, that there is a
tendency in him who has become interested in
the critical examination of the sacred writings,
to continue to read them critically and with a
principal regard to their elucidation, when he
ought to be imbibing their spirit; and the other,
that the perception of this tendency has been
an apology to many for not engaging in such
inquiries at all. They esteem it better to go on
with their crude, unconnected, and undigested
knowledge, which in many cases is only ignorance (for where they have not inquired, it is
impossible they should know), than to check the
63 
64 MEANS OF RELIGIOUTS IMPROVEMENT.
fervor of their religious feelings, as they fancy
must inevitably be done, by accurate study.
But this is a melancholy error. It reminds
one of the old pretence that ign6rance is the
mother of devotion. How can it be rationally
supposed, that a careful inquiry concerning the
history, the text, and the signification of the
Bible, should necessarily alienate the mind
from the true spirit of the Bible!  I say
necessarily, because the tendency alluded to
undoubtedly exists; and, however it may be
accounted for, it evidently needs to be cautiously guarded against.  This may be done.
Do it, then, as you value the warmth and fervor
of your soul.   Do it, always and persevere
ingly, by daily reading in that frame of spiritual self-application which I have recommended. Thus you will avoid the danger; and
while you arrive at enlarged views of the nature, contents, history and purposes of these
sacred records, you will retain and increase
the susceptibility of your heart to all their
representations of duty and heaven.
In regard to the choice of other books, it
would take up too much room to enter into all
the many considerations which might be 
READING.
started. Let it be sufficient to say in general,.
that, if you would form a religious character,
you are always to have in view the two objects
already named,-religious knowledge and
moral improvement. Your books, therefore,
will belong to one or the other of these two
departments; and it would be well to have
one of each kind always lying by you in the
course of being read. That is, be at all times
engaged with two books; one of a moral and
devotional character, to keep your frame of
mind right, and your feelings in harmony with
eternal truth; the other, of an instructive
character, to enlarge your knowledge, and extend your ideas concerning God, and man,
and truth. Then you will never be at a loss
for occupation.   You  will not fritter away
precious hours in'wondering what you had
better do.'
To the better accomplishment of this purpose, it will be weli to obtain of your minister,
or some competent friend, a list of selected
books, in the order in which they should be
read.  I earnestly recommend  this.  Many
persons read at random, without selection,
whatever they may accidentally meet with.
6*               G
65 
66 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT,
.They make no inquiry whether a book be
good or bad, worth perusal or not; but, be.
cause it lies in their way, or has been read by
some friend, they read it. Ihow many miserable volumes of trash are thus devoured! and
that, too, by persons who would be alarmed at
the suspicion that they are prodigally throwing
away their time. But they do not pursue the
same random course in other matters. They
do not choose their food or clothing of the
first thingr which accidentally presents itself
They take pains, they spend time, they inquire, compare, judge and select only what
they deliberately perceive to be best. And
when we treat the body thus, shall we have
no care for the mind? Shall we leave it to be
fed by any food which chance may bring
it, and thus expose it to the risk of pernicious
nourishment, to the hazard of being made
feeble, sickly, and corrupt? I adjure you, fall
not into this too common thoughtlessness.
Do not take it for granted, that, because it is
a printed book, therefore it must be worth
reading. Get advice upon the subject, and
reaa systematically; reflecting, that your ob.
ject is not amusement, but improvement,-im 
READING.
provement of your religious nature; and that
you have no more right to run the hazard of
poisoning it through a negligent selection of
its nutriment, than to destroy your body by
similar means. The religious culture of your
mind is a most responsible charge; it is to be
effected, in no small degree, by the exercise
and guidance it shall receive from books; and
how will you lift up your head, when the
Judge shall inquire concerning your manner
of preparing it for his kingdom, if you have
provided for its immortal appetite nothing but
anarranged and unselected trash, when stores
of the choicest kind were profusely spread
before you?
It does not fall within my plan to pursue
this suibject further, or to treat the many questions which may arise on the choice of books,
and habits of reading, in general. It may be
said in few words, that no work of truth and
science, or of elegance and taste, which does
not tend to corrupt the morals or create a dis relish for serious thought, need be prohibited
to a religious man. Within the limits of this
restriction he may freely range. Let him only
remnember, that even the employment of read
67 
68 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
ing may become mere idleness and wasteful.
ness; and that a man may decide respecting
his actual principles and character by the
character of the books to which he is most
attached.   He  must  therefore  watch  and
guard his taste. Then he may find it in his
power to cause every hour thus spent to
minister to the growth of his best attain
ments.
I]. MEDITATION.
This is a great and essential means of improvement. It is essential to self-examination
and self-knowledge, without which the hope
of progress and of virtue is vain.   No one
can know his own character, or be aware of
the dispositions, feelings and motives by
which he is actluated, except by means of deep
and searching reflection. In the crowd of
business and the hurry of the world, we are
apt to rush on without weighing, as we should,
the considerations which urge us; we are
liable to neglect that close inspection of our,elves, and that careful reference of our coen.
duct to the unerring standard of right, which
are requisite both to our knowing where we 
MEDITATI1ON.
are, and to our keeping in the right way. It
is necessary that we sometimes pause and look
around us, and consider our ways; that we
take observation of the course we are running,
and the various influences to which we are
subjected, and be sure that we are not driven
or drifted from the direction in which we
ought to be proceeding.  Without this there
is no safety.
Meditation, too, is necessary in order to the
digesting of religious truth, making familiar
what we have learned, and incorporating it
with our own minds. We cannot even retain
it in our nmemories, much less can we be fully
sensible of its power and worth, except
through the habit of reflecting upon it. We
cannot have it ready at command, so as to defend it when assailed, or state it when inquired after, or apply it in the emergencies of
life, unless it be familiar to us by habitual
meditation; so that even reading loses its
value if unaccompanied by reflection.   The
obligations and motives of duty, the promises,
hopes and prospects of the Christian, the
great interests and permanent realities by
w hich he is to be actuated, are not visibly and
69 
0  MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
tangibly present to him, like the scenes of his
passing life; and they must be made spiritual]y present by deliberate meditation, if he
would be guided and swayed by them. Indeed, without this, he must be without consideration or devotion, ignorant of the actual state
of his character, and in constant danger of
falling a sacrifice to the unfriendly influences
of the world.
In attempting, therefore, the acquisition
of a religious character, it is important that
you maintain an habitual thoughtfulness of
mind.   It has been said, and with perfect
truth, that no man pursues any great interest
of any kind, in which important consequences
are at stake, without a profound and settled
seriousness of mind; and that a man of really
frivolous disposition never accomplishes any
thing valuable. How especially true must
this be, in regard to the great interests of
religion and eternity! How can you hope to
make progress in that perplexing and difficult
work, the establishment of a religious character, the attainment of the great Christian
accomplishments, without a fixed and habitual
thoughtfulness? —a thoughtfulness which never 
MEFDITATION.
forgets the vastness and responsibility of
the work assigned to man, nor loses the
consciousness of a relation to more glorious
beings than are found upon the earth. This
must be your habit;-something more than an
occasional musing and reverie, at set times,
when you shall force yourself to the task. It
must be the uniform condition of your mind;
as much so as solicitude to the merchant,
who has great treasures exposed to the
uncertainties of the ocean and the foe;-a
solicitude, in your case not gloomy, or unsocial,
or morose, but thoughtful; so that nothing
shall  be  done  inconsiderately,  or  without
adverting to the bearing it may have on your
character and final prospects.
Then, besides this general state of mind,
there must be, as I have said, allotted periods
of express meditation. As the precept respecting devotion is,'Pray without ceasing,'
and yet set times of prayer are necessary; so
also, while we say,'Be always thoughtful,' we
must add, that particular seasons are necessary
on purpose for meditation. You must set
apart certain times for reflection, when you
shall deliberately sit down  and  survey wiLth
71 
72 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
keen scrutiny yourself, your condition, your
past life, and the prospect before you; inquire
into the state of your religious knowledge and
personal attainments; and strengthen your
sense of responsibility and purposes of duty,
by dwelling on the attributes and government
of God, the ways of his providence, the revelations of his word, the requisitions of his
will, the glory of his kingdom, and all the
affecting truths and promises which the gospel  displays.  These  are to  be subjects of
distinct and profound consideration, till your
mind becomes imbued with them, and until,
filled and inspired by the spiritual contemplation, you are in a manner'changed into
thle same image as by the spirit of the Lord.'
The proper season for this is the season of
your daily devotion; when, having shut out
the world, and sought the nearer presence of
God, your mind is prepared to work fervently.
Then, contemrplationi, aided by prayer, ascends
to heights which it could never reach alone;
and sometimes, whether in the body or out of
the body it can hardly tell, soars, as it were
to the third heaven, and enjoys a revelatlon
to which, at other hours, it is a stranger. 
MEDITATION.
This, however, is an excitement of mind
which is rarely to be expected. Those seasons are'few as angel's visits,' which lift the
spirit to any thing like ecstasy.   They are
glimpses of heaven, which the soul, in its present tabernacle, can seldom catch, only frequently enough to afford a brief foretaste of
that bliss to which it shall hereafter arrive.
Its ordinary musings are less ethereal; happy,
undoubtedly, though oftentimes  clouded  by
feelings of sadness and doubt, and by a sense
of unworthiness and sin. But however mixed
they may be, they are always salutary. If sad
and disheartening, they lead to more vigilant
self-examination, that we may discover their
cause, and thus rekindle the watchlight that is
so essential to right progress.   If serene and
ioyous, they are a present earnest of the peace
which is assured to the righteous, and the joy
heart which is one of the genuine fruits of
ne spirit. Be not, therefore, troubled or cast
down (indeed never be cast down, so long as
you can say to your soul, Trust in God); be
not, I say, disquieted or cast down, because of
the inequalities of feeling with which you
enter and leave your closet, and the changes
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73 
74 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
from brightness to gloom, from clearness to
obscurity, which often pass over your mind.
This, alas! is the inheritance of our frail na
ture. An equal vigor of thought, clearness
of apprehension, force of imagination, fervor of
devotion, always perceiving, feeling, adoring,
with the same vividness and satisfaction,
are to be our portion in the world of spirits.
Here we see all things,'as in a glass,
darkly'; there we shall see' face to face.'
Here the truths we rejoice in are too often
like the images of absent friends, which we
strive in vain to bring brightly before the eye
of our minds; they are shadowy, indistinct,
and fleeting. But there they will be like our
friends themselves, always present in their
own full form and beauty, to dwell in the
mind  unfadingly,  and  constitute  its  bliss.
Be satisfied, then, if you sometimes arrive, in
your  meditations,  at that glow  of elevated
enjoyment  which  you  desire.    What  you
are rather to seek for, is, a calm and com.
posed state of the affections, an equanimity
of spirit, a serenity of temper;-like the
quiet which an affectionate child experiences
in the circle of its parents and brothers, 
MEDITATION.
where it is nit. excited to ecstasy by the
thought of its father's goodness, but lives
beneath it in a state of equal and affectionate trust. Like this should be the habitual
experience of the Christian; and if it be
thus with you, let not occasional dullness or
darkness, coming over your spirit in its religious hours, dishearten or distress you.
This I say, because many persons of truly devout habits have unquestionably suffered much from this cause. In the natural
fluctuations of the animal spirits, or the
nervous system, or the bodily health, they
sometimes find themselves cold at heart,
and seemingly insensible to religious considerations. It seems to them that their
hearts have waxed gross, that their eyes are
closed, and their ears become dull of hearing. In vain do they read and think; they
cannot arouse themselves to any thing like
a' realizing sense' of these great objects;
but regard with a stupid unconcern what at
other times has been the source of their
chief enjoyment. But let the humble and
timid believer be of good  cheer.   This  is
not always a sign of guilt, or of desertion
75 
76 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
by  God.   It may  be traced. to the original
and unavoidable imperfection of human nature; it is to be lamented as such, but not
to be repented of as sin; and one may not
expect to be relieved from it, till the soul
is freed from the body.   Let him watch the
course of his mind, and he will find the
same inequality of feeling to exist upon
other subjects.   He  does  not at all times
take an equal  interest in his ordinary concerns, nor does he at all times feel the highest warmth of affection toward his parent,
friend, or child. Let him observe others, and
he will discover the same variations in them.
They will confess it to be so.   The  oldest
and most established Christians will describe themselves to have passed their whole
pilgrimage in this state of fluctuation.   Read
the private journals of distinguished believers, and you find in them frequent complaints of lukewarmness, indifference, and
deadness of heart. They mourn over it, they
bewail it, they strive against it, and yet it
adheres to them as long as they live. It is
not, therefore, your peculiar sin, but a common infirmity. Regard it in this light; and 
MEDITATION.
do not let it destroy your peace of mind, or
lead you to overlook the rational evidence
that your heart is right with God.
But also, on the other hand,-for the
Christian's path is hedged  in with  dangers
on every side, and in trying to escape from
one it is easy to rush into another,-take
heed that you do not unwarrantably apply
this consolation and make this excuse to
yourself in cases in which you really deserve
blame. Do not let this apology, which is
designed only for the comfort of the humb]e and watchful, be used by you as a cover
for negligence and sinful self-confidence.
Remember that your unsatisfactory state of
religious sensibility may be possibly your
fault; and ynal are not to presume that it is
otherwise, until you have faithfully searched
and tried. Have you not, for a time, been
unreasonably devoted to amusenent, or en.
grossed by unnecessary cares, so as to have
neglected the watching of your heart? Have
you not for a season been thoughtless, lightminded, frivolous, and careless of that de.
vout reference to God, by which you should
always be actuated?   Have you not engaged.
7*
77 
78 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
in some questionable undertaking, or allow
ed yourself in sloth or self-indulgence, or
cherished ill feelings toward others, or per.
mitted your temper to be kept irritated by
some unimportant vexations, or let your imagination run loose among forbidden desires?
Ask yourself such questions; and perhaps
in the nature of your recent occupations
you may detect the cause of your present
listlessness. If so, change the general turn
of your life.  In the words  of  Cowper's
hymn, it is only' A closer walk with God,'
which can bring back' the blessedness you
once enjoyed.' Now, your heart is desolate
and unsatisfied; you find in it'an aching
void, which God alone can fill;' and it is
only by renewing your acquaintance with
him, that you can renew your peace.
But, after all, remember that you are to
judge of the real worth of these seasons, not
by your enjoyment of them as they pass,
not by the luxury or rapture of your contemplation, but by their effect upon your character and principles, by the religious power
you gain from them toward meeting the du.
ties and sufferings, the joys and sorrows, 
MEDITATION.
the temptations, trials and conflicts of actual life. Meditation is a means of reli.
gion; not to be rested in as a final good,
nor allowed to satisfy us, except so far as it
imparts to the character a permanent im.
press of seriousness and duty, and strengthens the principles of faith and self-government. If it add daily vigor to your resolutions, and secure order to your thoughts, serenity to your temper, and uprightness to your
life, then it has fulfilled its legitimate purpose. If, on the other hand, it end in the
reverie of the hour, then, however fervent
and exalted, it is, comparatively speaking,
worthless to yourself and unacceptable to
God.  Its permanent influence on the character is the true test of its value.
It is easy to see, therefore, that there are
three purposes which you have in view; the
cultivation of a religious spirit, the scrutiny
of your life and character, the renewing of
your good purposes.
By the first of these, you are to insure the
predominance of a spiritual frame of mind,
a perpetual, paramount interest in divine
truth, and its incorporation with the frame
79 
80 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
and constitution of your soul; so that you
shall be continually enlarging your apprehensions concerning God, his providence and
his purposes, and shall at the same time make
them part of the very substance of your intellectual constitution, the pervading and actuating motives of all your life.
By this means religion becomes to the
Christian what the spirit of his profession is to
the soldier,-the one present thought, motive,
and impulse, absorbing all others, and urging
him to his one great object by its mastery over
all other thoughts, principles, and affections.
The other two purposes of meditation which
I mentioned, may be described as the surveying and burnishing of the warrior's arms, in
preparation.for the summons to actual combat;
or as the act of the mariner in mid ocean,. who
every day lifts his instruments to the light of
heaven, and consults his charts and his books,
that he may learn where he is, and what has
been his progress, and whether any change
must be made in his course in order to his
reaching the intended haven. The warrior who
should allow his arms to rust for want of a
little daily care, and the mariner who should 
MEDITATION.
be shipwrecked from neglect of taking seasonable observations, are emblems of the folly
of the man who presses on through life, without ever pausing to scrutinize the principles
on which he acts, and rectify the errors he has
committed.
This self-examination must be universal;
embracing alike the conduct of your external life and the habitual tenor of your mind.
You must survey the train of your thoughts,
the temper you have sustained, your deportment toward others, your conversation, your
employment, the use of your time and of your
wealth; you must consider by what sort of
motives you are prevailingly guided, what is
the probable effect of your exanmp)le, and
whether you are doing all the good which
might be reasonably expected of you; you
must compare yourself with the example of
Jesus Christ, and measure your life by the
laws of holy living prescribed in his gospel.
And in order that these and other topics may
all have their place in the survey, it may not
be amiss to keep them by you on a written list,
Cotton Mather adopted and recommended the
practice of assigning to such inquiries each its
H
81 
82 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
particular day of the week; so that every day
might have its own topic of reflection, and
every topic its due share of attention. Others
may find this a useful suggestion.
A renewal of your resolutions iv to follow
this inquiry. Knowing where you are and what
you need, you are to arrange your purposes accordingly. It is a sad error of some to fancy
that seeing and acknowledging their faults is all
which is required of them. They sit down and
bewail them, and in weeping and sorrow waste
that energy of mind which should have been
exerted in amendment. But it is surely far better, with manly readiness, to rise and act without a tear, than to shed torrents of bitter water,
and still go on as before. Regret and remorse
naturally express themselves in weeping; but
repentance shows itself in action. It may begin in sorrow, but it ends in reformation. And
you have little reason to be satisfied with your
reflections and your penitence, if they do not
issue in prompt and resolute action.
lII. PRAYER.
As there is no duty more frequently en.
joined in the New Testament by our Saviour 
PRAYER.
and the Apostles, so there is none which is a
more indispensable and efficacious means of
religious improvement, than Prayer; for
which reasons it demands particular attention.
The practice of devotion is a sign of spiritual life, and a means of preserving it. No
one prays heartily without some deep religious sentiment to actuate him. This sentiment may be but occasionally felt; it may
be transient in duration; but the exerc~ "  of it
in acts of devotion tends to render it habitual
and permanent, and its frequent exercise
causes the mind at length to exist always in a
devout posture.   He who truly prays, feels,
during the act, a sense of God's presence,
authority, and love; of his own obligations
and unworthiness; of his need of being better.
He feels grateful, humble, resigned, anxious
for improvement. He who prays often, often
has these feelings, and by frequent repetition
they become customary and constant. And
thus prayer operates as an active, steady, powerful means of Christian progress.
Indeed nothing effectual is to be done without it  That it is a chief duty, even natural
83 
84 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT
reason would persuade us. That it is a condition on which divine blessings are bestowed,
Christianity assures us. That it is a high gratification and enjoyment, every one knows who
has rightly engaged in it. And that it is of
all means of moral restraint and spiritual ad.
vancement the most effective, no one can
doubt, who understands how powerfully it stirs
and agitates the strongest and most active
principles of man, and how complete is the
dominion which those principles have over his
character and conduct. All this is clear and
sufficient, without adding the assurance of the
Saviour, that it is effectual to draw down spiritual aid from heaven.   Add this, and the
subject is complete. It is, both naturally and
by appointment, a chief duty of man; from
the nature of the soul and the intercourse it
opens with God, it is the first enjoyment;
and through its own intrinsic power and the
promise of Jesus, it is the most effectual instrument of moral and spiritual culture.
Perhaps you have been accustomed to the
performance of this duty from your childhood
You were early taught to repeat your prayers,
morning and evening. Pains were taken to 
PRAYER.
make you understand the nature of the duty,
and to give you right impressions in performing it. Perhaps you have retained these impressions, and have continued to this time the
practice of sincere devotion.   On the other
hand, you may have lost those impressions,
and become neglectful of the duty. Or perhaps you are so unhappy as never to have received instruction on this head. You have
passed through childhood without the practice,
and without the sentiment which should inspire it; and now, when awakened to a sense
of your responsibility, you find yourself a
stranger to the mercy-seat.   But, however the
case may be, the sense of your religious wants
now urges you to devotion; and you are anxious to make that acquaintance with God,
which alone can secure you peace. How to
perform the duty, how to gain the satisfaction, how to reap the advantage, are points
upon which you are anxious to obtain direction.
First of all, let me urge upon you the importance of a plan and of customary seasons for
your devotions.  Have your settled appointments of time and place, and let nothing in.
8
85 
86  MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
terfere with them. Many would persuade you
that this is too formal; that you should be left
more at liberty; that, as you are to pray
always, it is quite needless to assign any
special season for the duty.   And one may
conceive of a person having arrived at so high
a measure of spiritual attainment, that his
thoughts should be a perpetual worship, and
retirement to his closet would bring his mind
no nearer to God.   But such is at best an
infrequent case; at any rate it is not yours,you are a beginner; it never can be yours,
except you use the requisite means of arriving
at it; and certainly among the surest means
is the custom of setting apart stated seasons
for devotion. So that the very reason assigned for neglecting, becomes a strong reason for
observing them. You must feed the soul as
you do the body, furnishing it with suitable
nourishment at suitable intervals. You must
keep its armor bright and serviceable, as does
the soldier in human warfare, who examines
and restores it at a certain hour daily. If it
were left to be done at any convenient season
a thousand trifling engagements might cause
the work to be deferred again and again, till 
PRAYER.
irretrievable injury should accrue. You have
too many other engagements and enticements
daily and hourly occurring, to make it safe for
you to leave this to accidental convenience or
inclination.   In order to secure its performance, you must put it on the list of your daily
indispensable engagements; and, as it is part
of your routine at certain hours to breakfast
and dine, and at certain hours to attend to the
concerns of your household and profession, so
also must it be, to retire at certain hours for
religious worship.   The wisdom and experience of all the religious world insist on this;
and it would not be necessary to state it so urgently, if it did not seem to be a notion growing into favor with some, that, as the spirit,
and not the form, is the essential thing, it is
better not to be burdened with methods and
rules, but simply to pray always;-which,
there is reason to fear, would in practice be
found a precept to pray never.
Assign to yourself therefore some convenient hour, when you shall be secure from
interruption, and not hurried by the call of
other business. If you are much engaged
in active affairs, you may perhaps be unable
87 
88 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
to secure this, unless you rise for the purpose
in the morning, and sit up for it at night.
This, then, you must do. Deprive yourself of
a few moments' sleep, morning and evening.
And I may ask here, whether the multitude
of persons who excuse their inattention to
religious exercises by their want of time, do
not thereby expose themselves to a suspicion
of insincerity?   For if they were truly in
earnest, it would be a very little thing to retire
to their chambers fifteen minutes earlier,
and to rise from their beds fifteen minutes
sooner. If they were aware of the magnitude
of the gain, the sacrifice would seem insignificant. Nay, they might even perform the duty
upon their beds; there would be no want of
time then. And some, who, from the misfortune of poverty, have no place to which they
can retire, being compelled to live at every
moment in the company of others, should
learn to feel that the bed is their closet; that,
when lying there, they can'pray to the
Father who seeth in secret;' and that they
need make no complaint of want of opportunity, so long as they may follow the Psalmist, 
PRAYER.
who said,'I remember thee on my bed,
and meditate on thee in the night-watches.'
Having, then, your stated times, if you
would make them in the highest measure profitable, observe the following rules. First of
all, when the hour has arrived, seek to excite in
your mind a sense of the divine presence, and
of the greatness of the act in which you are
engaging. Summnon up the whole energy of
your mind. Put all your powers upon the
stretch.   Do  not allow yourself to utter a
word, to use an expression, thoughtlessly, nor
without setting before yourself, in a distinct
form, its full meaning. Remember the words
of Ecclesiasticus:' When you glorify the
Lord, exalt him as much as you can; for even
yet will he far exceed: and when you exalt
him, put forth all your strength, and be not
weary; for you can never go far enough.'
Pour your whole soul, the utmost intensity of
your feelings, into your words. One sentence
uttered thus is better than the cold repetition
of an entire liturgy   For this reason, let your
prayer be preceded by meditation.   In  this
way make an earnest effort after a devout
temper.  While you thus muse,  the fire of
8*                  I
89 
90 MEANS UF UELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
your devotion will kindle, and then you may
'speak with your tongue;' then you may
breathe out the adoring sentiments of praise
and thanksgiving, the holy aspirations after
excellence and grace, the humble confessions
of your contrite spirit, the glowing emotions
of Christian faith. As you proceed, you will
probably find yourself increasing in warmth
and energy; especially if you give way to the
impulse of your feelings, and do not check
them by watching them too closely. To do
this chills the current of devotion, and changes
your prayer from the simple expression of
desire and affection, into an exercise of mental
philosophy. Wherefore, having warmed your
mind, give it free way, and let its religious
ardor flow on. But if, as will often be the
case, you find your thoughts wander and your
feelings cool, then pause, and by silent
thought bring back the mind to its duty; and
thus intermix meditation with prayer, in such
manner that you shall never fall into the
mechanical, unmeaning repetition of mere
words.
As your object is not to get through with a
certain task, but to pray devoutly, you will 
PRAYER.
find it well to vary your method according to
circumstances, and not always adhere to the
same  mode.   I have sometimes suspected,
that one cause of the little efficacy of public
worship may be the invariable method of conducting it; whereby it is rendered formal,
monotonous, and deficient in excitement.
But however this may be, it is quite certain
that a simi ar  unvaried  routine  would  be
extremely injudicious in private devotion.  In
this respect, a very considerable latitude is
desirable.   As you are not to consult the
wants or the convenience of others, but your
own duty alone, you may have a single regard
to what shall suit the immediate temper and
exigencies of your own mind, without being
bound by any prescribed rule as to subject
language, or posture.-You will always have
by you the Bible to quicken and guide yoc
But sometimes the first verse you read ma)
lead you to feelings, thoughts, and prayers,
which shall so occupy your soul that you will
read no more. And it is better to read but
one verse, which thus influences your whole
spiritual nature, than to read chapters in the
unheedful way that is too often practised. At
91 
92  MEANS OF RET,TIOTJS IMPROVEMF.NT.
another time, however, the reading of the
Scriptures may be your principal occupation,
and your less excited mind may not flow
beyond a short ejaculation at the close of each
verse. Sometimes you may find it well to
assist yourself by a printed or written form;
always, however, taking care to leave it, when
any sentiment or feeling arises within you
which  is not there expressed.   The  main
advantage of a form in private is, to suggest
thoughts, and stimulate the mind; as soon as
it has dope this, we should lay it down, and go
on of ourselves. Then, presently, if we find
it necessary, we may again recur to the form,
and make the whole exercise, if we please, an
alternate use of the form, and of our own
language. In all this we must be guided by
the occasion.
Similar varieties may be allowed in regard
to the subjects of our devotions. There are
some great and leading topics of adoration
and supplication, which may at no time' be
forgotten or omnitted. But it cannot be necessary in every prayer to go over the whole field
of devotional sentiment.   It is best that we
confine ourselves principally to those which 
PRAYER.
are most immediately interesting at the time,
and seek to render our present circumstances,
fortunes, failings, and prospects, the nourishment of our devotion. The temptations of our
peculiar lot, our recent trials of temper, fortitude, and faith, the dealings of Providence with
our family and friends, the exposure, wants,
and improvement of those most dear to us,these, as they are at other moments of the
greatest concern to us, should be the objects
upon which we should, first of all, seek the
blessing of God. This it is to connect every
thing with religion; in this way we shall avoid
the error, into which some have fallen, of making religion a wholly independent existence,
with no reference to the ordinary duties of active life, and no bearing on its common concerns, and of course exercising no influence
upon them. Such persons have exhibited the
strange spectacle of two contradictory characters in one man, the one apparently devout,
the other immoral. But the consistent Christian will never separate his religion from his
life, nor his life from his religion. He will
seek to incorporate them most intimately with
each other. And this he will effect, in no
93 
94  MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
small degree, by making his daily prayers, not
the expression of general principles, and
indefinite confession, the recitation of articles
of faith, or declaration of vague desires aftei
holiness; but the expression of those sentiments which belong to his peculiar condition,
and a perpetual reference to his personal
character and circumstances. It is for these
and concerning these that he will pray; and
therefore his prayers will vary as these do.
So much, in a general way, respecting the
subjects of private devotion. Next we may
say a few words respecting the posture. This
need not be invariably the same. Many have
laid stress upon it; but it seems to me there
is a certain freedom to be allowed in this
particular to those who are invited'to come
boldly to the throne of grace.' Provided we
secure the right state of the heart, it can matter little what the attitude of the body may be.
There are times when the lowest prostration
seems best to express and promote the sentiment of lowly adoration and broken-hearted
humiliation in which the worshipper supplicates his Father. But again, in a different
tone of spirit, he is prompted to stand erect, 
PRAYER.
and lift up lls head and hands, as an attitude
most corresponding to the elevated sentiments  by  which  he  is filled.    While
sometimes he feels that in walking to and fro,
or sitting with his head leaning upon his
hands, he can best summon his mind to
spiritual worship. Cecil says, that his oratory
was a little walk in the corner of his chamber,
where he paced backward and forward as he
prayed. Others have been able to be devout
only on their knees.   What I would briefly
urge is, that you be not scrupulous on this
head. Allow yourself in any mode. Try various modes. Adopt, from time to time, that
which best cultivates and encourages the right
tone of feeling. At the same time, you will
probably find some truth in the remark, that
the adoption of a suitable posture aids the
adoption of a suitable frame of mind; that the
expression of reverence in the attitude conveys
a feeling of reverence to the spirit; for which
reason it will be generally best to assume the
posture most associated with the sentiments of
devotion, and depart from it only when the
change may be favorable to engagedness and
fervor of mind. The soul may be as truly
95 
96 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
prostrated when you stand, or walk, or ride, or
work, or lie in your bed, as when you knee!
before the altar.
Neither be too scrupulous concerning the
use of your lips. It is oftentimes as well, or
better, to pray mentally, without uttering a
sound. Yet at the same time there is danger,
if this become our practice, that it will end in
turning prayer into meditation, and that our
hours of devotion will become hours of musing
and reverie. This would be injurious; and
therefore we should commonly use articulate
language.   Our thoughts are so much asso.
ciated with words, and words with their
sounds, that it is not easy to think connectedly
and profitably without the use of'speech. It
is well, as I have before said, to muse for a
time; but when, after musing, the fire is
kindled within us, as the Psalmist expresses
it, then we should'speak with our tongues.'
We shall find this an essential aid in render.
ing our sentiments and train of thought
distinct to ourselves; and in so impressing
them on our memories, that we shall be able
to employ them afterward for our guidance
and comfort. Good sentiments, which merely 
PRAYER
pass through the mind, hut are not put into
words, are apt to leave no trace behind them;
and he who should habitually indulge himself
in thinking his prayers, instead of expressing
them, would find it extremely difficult to say
what he had prayed for, or to turn to any
account in common life the employment of
his sacred hours.
Meditation is, in its nature, an act very
distinct from prayer, and must be very distinct in  its effects.  Some  effects.may  be
common to the two; but much of the peculiar
and the happiest influence of devotion on the
character must be lost to the man who
allows musing to take the place of prayer.
It is one thing to contemplate a blessing and
desire it; quite another to ask for it. The
latter may require a very different temper
of mind from the former; and it is plain that
the promise of God is given to those who ask,
not to those who desire; to those who employ
petition, not those who are content with con.
templation.   Therefore arrange your thoughts
in words; and generally give them a distinct
utterance in sound; pausing occasionally for
reflection, and being certain that you do not
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97 
98  ME.ANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
employ words only, but that the thoughts
which they express are actually in your mind.
In regard to the choice of words, be not
too anxious. Take those which express your
meaning, without regard to their elegance
or eloquence.- You will naturally fall into
language borrowed from the Scriptures, and
that is always good and appropriate. Only
take heed that you do not use it mechanically,
and without due consideration of its significance. But when you do not use the terms
of scripture, take those which express what
you mean, and consider nothing further. I
would lay the more stress upon this, because
some persons actually plead, as an excuse for
the neglect of this duty, that they have no
command of language, and cannot readily
find correct and proper words.   This would
be a very good reason for not attempting to
pray in public; and it were to be wished that
some, who are forward to exhibit themselves
in this act, would consider it more seriously.
It is an injury to religion, when  he, who
speaks to God in the public assembly, or the
circle of social worship, does it in rude,
hesitating, confused, inappropriate, or ungramn 
PRAYER.
matical language. But in private, when you
are simply to pour out your heart, and nave
no witness but Heaven, allow yourself to put
aside all solicitude on this head. Speak as
you feel, and what you feel; only taking care
that your feelings are right, and that you know
what they are. Alas! you will often find it a
task difficult enough to regulate your feelings,
govern your thoughts, repress wandering desires, keep out vain images, and bring your
soul to a proper attitude of reverence and love,
without the added embarrassment of arrang
ing words by the rules of rhetoric and taste.
This is an occupation which interferes with
the spirituality of the duty you are performing.   I  beseech  you  to  disregard  it
altogether.
As respects times and seasons, it may be
considered as a salutary rule, that it is better
to pray often than long. There are times,
undoubtedly, when the mind is glowing and
the heart full, that the exercise may be advantageously continued through a long period,
and the disciple, like his Master, may spend
the whole night in prayer. It would be a
pity to check the current when it flows thus
...... -. X
.e 
100 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT,
spontaneously, or to lose the luxury of such
a season.   There  may  be occasions,  too,
when duty and improvement shall seem to
demand an extraordinary continuance in
devotion.   I do  not  therefore  recommend
that you should limit yourself to a certain
stinted  number  of  minutes.   But, as  a
general rule, do Inot covet long prayers;
rather multiply  their number  than  increase
their length.    This is the rule of Christ;
who insists that we  pray often and always,
but  that  we  do  not pray long.   A  most
wise  regulation.   For  the  mind  is easily
wearied by a long exercise, and is likely to
return to it slowly and reluctantly; and in,the
interval, it is liable to go back, like the
swinging pendulum, into a directly opposite
state.'From which cause it may too readily
happen that the extended devotions of the
morning shall exhaust the attention of the
mind, and produce religious listlessness during
the day.  Whereas, a shorter act of worship,
which should excite without exhausting, which
should kindle the fire but not burn it out,
would leave a glow upon the feelings, that
would abide for hours, and prompt to ho!y 
PRAYER.
thoughts and spontaneous acts of worship at
short intervals throughout the day.  In this
manner, the great object of keeping up a
religious wakefulness and sensibility is with
greater certainty obtained, and the whole
current of life more surely colored by the
infiusion of religious sentiment.
Let this, therefore, be your method. Accustom yourself to what is called ejaculatory
prayer; that is, to very frequent petitions and
thanksgivings, bursting out from your soul at
all times and wherever you may be. Walk
with God as you would journey with an
intimate friend; not satisfied to make formal
addresses to him at stated seasons, but turning
to him in brief and familiar speech whenever
opportunity offers, or occasion or feeling
prompts.  Remember  that  cerenmonious addresses are appointed, and are chiefly necessary, on social and ceremonious occasions, when
a company of m;n  is together, and  many
mind(s are to act at once. They can act and
be acted upon simultaneously in no other
way; and therefore, in civil and state affairs.
as wvell as in religious, this method is in use
But when we come to more private, domestic,
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101 
102 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
confidential intercourse, we abandon these
formal and complimentary arrangements, and
find it most natural and happy to do as occasion prompts, in a free and unrestrained style
of conduct and of speech. Just so it should
be in our more private and confidential
communion with the great Father of our
spirits. The more it is unembarrassed by
precise forms and ceremonious appendages,
and left to the promptings of the feelings and
of the moment, the more appropriate is it to
our title of' children,' and the greater is the
felicity which it furnishes.
It has, of course, been implied in the preceding remarks, that all is to be done in the
spirit of devotion. In what manner this may
be effected, it is necessary to state more
distinctly; and the rules to be given for this
end will sufficiently explain in what that
spirit consists.
First, then, the genuine, effectual prayer
is the prayer of Faith; not of words, not of
form; not an e::ercise of the understanding,
reasoning on the attributes and dispensations
of God, and uttering its judgments on duty;
but an address to him, accompanied by a 
PRAYER.
confident persuasion that he hears and regards
'He that cometh to God,' says the Apostle,
'must believe that he is, and that hle is a
rewarder of them that diligently seek him.'
Of this there must be no doubt on the mind.
You must realize that you are actually speaking to him, and he listening to you, as truly
as when you address yourself to a visible
mortal; and you must have as real a conviction
that something depends on the act, and as real
a desire to receive wbat you ask for, as when
you make a request for some important favor
to a human friend. If you doubt, your prayer
is weak and inefficacious.'Ask in faith,'
says James,'nothing wavering; for he that
wavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven
with the wind and tossed.' His uncertain
and fluctuating mind wants stability, and
cannot receive a blessing.  Therefore it is
added,' Let not that man think that he shall
obtain any thing from the Lord.' May we
not suppose, that much of the dissatisfaction
attendant on our prayers, and much of their
unfruitfulness, is owing to the doubtful,
hesitating state of mind in which they are
offered? And what can be more miserably
103 
104 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
destructive of all energy and interest in the
employment?  If you  doubt  whether  you
shall be heard, you will pray timidly and
coldly, without courage  or spirit.  If your
prayers are thus lifeless, your conduct will
be so too, and all spiritual savor will fade
away from your life. Do not, then, allow in
yourself this doubtfiilness of temper.   The
most extravagant fanaticism, which sees a
visible light descending as it prays, and finds
an answer in presentiments and dreams,
is not more mistaken, and is far more happy.
Give yourself up to the assurance, that they
who ask shall be heard, and go'boldly to
the throne of grace.' Jesus, by his invitations
and doctrine, has given you a right to this
confidence; and it is only in the exercise
of it, humbly, but firmly, that you may' cast
out the fear which hath torment.'
Next, your prayer must be fervent; that
is, your affections must be engaged and interested in it. You must not barely, as a
reasoning philosopher, or well instructed pupil,
declare what you coolly judge to be right,
and assert that man, in his present relations,
ought to seek and do what is right, and that 
PRAYER.
God, as the Father and Governor, should be
adored and obeyed (which is the tenor of the
devotional exercises one sometimes hears);
but you must set yourself actually to do these
things. You can only be said to pray when
the sentiment you utter springs from your
heart; and, rising above all the arguments
and persuasions of the wise, you pour out
your feelings, as a little child confides its
thoughts to a parent's bosom; thinking only
of your own dependence and need, and of
God's ability and readiness to succor you,
and earnestly aspiring after that purity and
piety, which you feel to constitute the excellence and bliss of man. When this fervent
glow is upon your mind, you pray in the
spirit. Seek for it. Be not content without it.
InI the next place, do not allow yourself to
grow weary. Persevere; however ill satisfied,
however discouraged, persevere.   Open  the
New Testament, and you will see how this is
insisted upon, again and again, and by various
illustrations.' That men should always pray,
and never faint,' was the great moral of more
than one of our Lord's parables; and to'pray
K
1(). 
106 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
without ceasing' was the corresponding direction of his Apostles.  Situated as we are in
this world, there is danger that, perceiving little
immediate fruit from our devotions, we should
relax our diligence in them; first doubting
their value, then losing our interest in them,
and then ceasing to perform them. But we
should recollect, that, in this case, as in all
the most important and admirable provisions
of Divine Wisdom, it is the order of Heaven to give, not to a single exertion, nor to a
few acts, nor even to some continuance of
effort, but only to a long, unremitted, perse.
vering effort.   We  read  this lesson  every
where.   Look at that glorious operation of
God, by which the sun cherishes and matures
the fruits of the earth for the sustenance of
its creatures. It is not accomplished by one
act, nor by several acts, nor yet by sudden,
violent exertions of power. He sends out his
beams steadily, day by day, month after
month; yet the fruit is still green, the harvest
immature; and if, weary with the work, he
should abandon it, famine might devastate the
globe, when but six days' longer perseverance
would see it successful. The whole toil of the 
PRAYER
season might thus be lost, when a trifling addition only was necessary to render it all-effective.
In how many other cases is the same truth illustrated! Will you, then, abandon your prayers, because you do not witness the effect from
them which you desire? Will you be discouraged, when, by a little longer continuance, you
may receive the full blessing at once? Shall
the husbandman'wait patiently,' and will
you, looking for an immortal harvest, lose it
for want of patience? No. This is the eternal, immutable rule in regard to all great acquisitions. Piety and virtue, character and
immortality, depend upon a long succession
of actions, neither of them, taken singly, of
essential moment, yet all, in the aggregate, essential to effect the great end in view. Apply
this consideration to your prayers, and reso'Ilutely persevere.
Thus it is the humble prayer of confident
faith, fervent and persevering, from which
you are to hope benefit and acceptance.
But you may ask, How shall I know that it
is accepted, and with what answer should I be
satisfied?
To the first part of this question, there is
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108 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
but one reply. If you are conscious of having
prayed aright, you may be assured that your
prayer is accepted. You can have no external evidence of the fact;  but the Scriptures
every where declare, that a right prayer
is certainly accepted. This, then, is a reason
for self-examination, and for carefully regu.
lating the state of your mind.
You may imagine, however, that you are
rather to judge by the answer to your prayers;
and that if, after offering earnest petitions for
certain blessings, you find them denied, you
are to suppose that your devotions are not accepted.
In regard to this, I observe, that tie purpose
of prayer is twofold-particular and general;
the first, to supplicate certain specific blessings which we need or desire; the second, to
obtain the divine favor in general; or, which
is equivalent to it, to obtain that state of mind
and heart which is always an object of complacency with God, and secures his permanent
approbation.   Now  it is evident, that  the
latter is an object infinitely more important
than the former.   It is of no consequence
whether your receive certain gifts of health, or 
PRA.tYER.
safety, or prosperous affairs, in comparison
with the importance of attaining that frame of
soul which God approves, and which will fit
you for heaven.  If, then, you have plainly
gathered from your devotions the advantage
of a religious growth, if you are brought by
them nearer to God, formed into the likeness
of Jesus Christ, and made superior to the
things of earth and sense; —then you have
gained the highest objects which man may aspire to, and should feel no dissatisfaction or
doubt because inferior blessings are denied.
Having received the greater, you should be
content not to receive the less. And this is a
sufficient reply to the second part of the question stated above: viz. With what answer
shall I be satisfied? Be satisfied with that answer which is found in the improving state of
your own religious affections; in the peace,
serenity, confidence, and hope, which belong
to a mind habitually conversant with God, and
which God bestows only on such.
I do not mean to say, that other and more
specific answers may not be sometimes given;
for doubtless the devout mind may often have
reason to trace particular blessings, and with
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109 
110 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
a practised eye may trace them, to a source
which has been opened in reply to the prayer
of faith. When you shall perceive it to be so
in your own case, happy will you be; and
you will not fail to acknowledge it with suitable gratitude. But what I mean to say is,
that this is not what you are habitually to expect; you are not to wait for this in order
to the satisfaction of your mind. God feeds
his children with spiritual food; and it is
one part of his discipline of their faith, to
deny them temporal blessings in order to
the more abundant bestowal of those that are
spiritual; to advance the moral man to perfection through the disappointment or mortification of the outward man. Do not, then, be
uneasy, because your prayers may at first view
seem inefficacious. The service of truth and
virtue is not to be rewarded by the wages of
this world's goods. Health, strength, riches,
prosperity, are not the best, they are not the
appropriate, recompense, for self-denial, humility, benevolence, and purity. The true reconipense is eternal and imperishable.   If you
have this, why be dissatisfied that you have
not thie other?  If you have this, how  can 
PRAYER.
you fancy that God has not accepted your
prayer?
To which it may be added, that, if you
prayed aright, you prayed in the spirit of submission; not only acknowledging, but feeling,
the wisdom of Heaven to be greater than your
own, and desiring to obtain only such gifts as
that wisdom should judge it best to bestow.
Such gifts, of course, are granted. If, therefore, you were sincere, you should be content.
You are not relieved, perhaps, from the
trouble against which you prayed; the evil
you fear comes, the good you desire is denied,
notwithstanding your earnest supplication.
But does it follow that your prayer is slighted?
Believe it not. What you designed was, to
ask blessings; you named the things which
you esteemed such; but at the same time you
knew that your judgment was fallible. If
God has refused the things specified, it is be.
cause in his judgment they would not prove
blessings, and he has bestowed in their stead
an increase of faith, which is a real blessing.
Or perhaps I may say, he has proposed to you
t discipline of your faith, which will prove a
transcendent good, unless, by your blind dis
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112 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
content and misuse of it, you turn it into a
curse.
It will follow from these remarks, that we
are to dwvell in prayer on topics rather of a
spiritual than of a temporal nature; that we
should ask such things as relate rather to our
character than to our condition, rather to our
religious than to our worldly prosperity.   For,
these being the chief objects of desire and
happiness (so much so, that our petitions for
earthly good oftentimes receive no reply
but in the state of our own minds), it must
follow that they should be our chief objects
of interest and desire in our exalted hours
of communication with God. Our religious
addresses in those hours  are made  up  of
adoration, thanksgiving, confession, petition.
Now, two of these, adoration and confession,
relate to spiritual objects exclusively.   The
other two relate to objects of both a spiritual
and temporal character, the blessings and
wants of both soul and body. But it is plain
that the former far exceed the latter in num.
ber and in importance, and should therefore
occupy the larger share of attention. If, then,
you wvould do what is most consonant to the 
PRA fER.
nature of the exercise, and your own most
real wants; if you would receive blessings
corresponding to the petitions you express;
you will dwell  principally on spiritual  and
immortal good; seeking first of all, in
prayer as at all times,' the kingdom of God
and its righteousness.'   You  will do this,
also, if you would copy the pattern which
our Lord has given; for of the seven sentences of the prayer which he taught his
disciples, only one has relation to man's temporal condition. You will do it, if you would
imitate our great Exemplar and Master,
whose   recorded  prayers   have  exclusive
regard to the welfare of his spiritual kingdom and the bestowment of internal blessings.
And it is not to the example alone of the
Saviour that you are to have reference in
your prayers. You are also to regard him
as the Mediator through whom they are to
be offered. It belongs to the system of our
religion, that the thought of its Founder
should be associated in the minds of its disciples with all that they are and do; with
their sense of obligation, and their sentiments
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113 
114 MEANS OF RELIGTOUS IMPROVEMENT.
of piety. They are'to do every thing in the
name of the Lord Jesus;' with a conscious
ness of their connexion with him, and of their
dependence upon the instruction, motives,
and strength, which they have received from
him.  They are'to walk by faith in the Son
of God.' His image is to be blended with their
whole life. Especially is this to be the case in
the acts of life which are strictly and peculiarly religious.' Whatsoever ye ask in my
name, believing.''Giving thanks unto God
and the Father by him.' It is only through
his instruction, authority, and encouragement,
that they know their privilege of filial worship,
and are enabled so to offer it that they may
look for acceptance. The hope of pardon on
the confession of sin is grounded upon what
he has done, suffered, and declared; and
the confidence with which the penitent seeks
forgiveness and life, is owing to his trust in
the word of Jesus, and his being able to lean
on him as a friend and advocate, when he
casts himself a suppliant before God. Understand, then, that the acceptable prayer is that
which is made in the name of the great Intercessor: and let your heart be warmed 
PRAYER.
and imboldened in your devotions by the consciousness of your relation to him' whom the
Father heareth always.'
I will add but two further remarks before
closing this topic. First, I have all along
assumed, that I am addressing a person sincerely engaged in the pursuit of religious
attainments.   This sincerity of pursuit is a
fundamental requisite, without which all exhortations, means, assistance, sacrifices, will
be only thrown  away.   If, therefore, after
having made some effort after a spirit of devotion, in pursuance of the course recommended, you find, as men sometimes do, that
you derive from it neither improvement nor
satisfaction,.I recommend to you to examine
whether you are really in earnest; whether
you do, actually in your heart, desire religious improvement; whether, in short, there
)e not in you a lurking preference for your
present state of mind, and an attachment to
some passion, taste, or pursuit, incompatible
with a zealous devotedness to Christian truth,
and a suitable attention to the discipline
which it demands. Many are, no doubt, prevented from advancement by secret hin.
115 
116 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
nerances of this nature, of whose operation
they are not at all aware. If, upon inquiry,
you cannot discover that it is so with you,
then examine strictly the methods you have
pursued, and the observances you have practised. You will probably find that they have
been in some particulars injudiciously selected, or improperly or insufficiently attended;  that  you  have  failed  in  a  resolute,
steadfast, systematic adherence to your own
rules; that you have habitually allowed
yourself in something wrong, or neglected
something right. Look after your mistake.
When you shall have discovered and corrected it, you may be certain of securing the improvemnent you desire.
Secondly, take heed that you do not allow
yourself to fancy, that an observance of
these or similar rules constitutes all your duty
under this head.   Do  not forget, that the
devotion which Christianity teaches is nothing
less than perpetually thinking, feeling, and
acting, as becomes a child of God,-a perpetual worship. This is the end at which you
are  to  aim;-an  end, however, which  is
not to be attained without the use of 
PRAYER.
means; and the directions in the preceding
pages are designed simply to point out some
of the means.  Some  persons do not need
such  directions.   For  them  they are  not
designed. But there are others to whom they
must be welcome and wholesome. Let such
use them, but without forgetting that they are
means only. Let them guard, from the first
and always, against the idea, that the practice
of these will secure the great object, without
any further exertion or sacrifice; that to be
devout men, they have only to observe stated
seasons, and  perform  stated  acts.   There
cannot be a more pernicious error. It is at
variance with the whole nature and spirit of
Christianity. God is to be served by the entire life; by its actions as well as its thoughts,
its duties as well as its desires, its deeds as
well as its feelings.
The religious man must have the frame of
his mind and the tenor of his conduct at all
times religious; in the market and the family
no less than in the closet and the church. In.
deed, considering how much more of life is
spent abroad in action and trial than is passed
in the worship and contemplation of retire
117 
118 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
ment, it is plainly of greater consequence to
watch and labor in the world than in private.
Besides that it is easier to be religiously disposed for an hour a day, when reading the
Bible or kneeling at the altar, than it is to be
so during the many other hours which are full
of the world's temptations, and when all the
irregular passions are liable to be excited.
Remember, then, to try your prayers by your
life; you may know how sincere they are, by
their agreement or disagreement with your
habitual sentiments and conduct. Regulate
your life by your prayers; in vain do you
think yourself religious, if you go with holy
words and humble confessions to the Divine
presence, but at other times live in thoughtlessness and sin. True religion is a single
thing. Devout exercises form a part of its
exhibition;  holy living forms  another part.
Unless they exist together, it is to no purpose
that they exist at all. To separate them is to
destroy the religion. To this consideration,
then, let your perpetual and vigilant attention
be given; and be satisfied with your hours of
devotion only when they exercise a sacred
and constant influence over the condition of 
PREACHING
your mind and life, and have made them holy
to the Lord.
IV. PREACHING.
From the more private means of religious
improvement, we pass to the consideration of
those which are in their nature public.
Preaching is a divine institution; and its
authority and wisdom have been illustriously
justified in the success which has attended it in
every age of the church. It is to a publication from the lips of living teachers, that the
gospel owes its spread through so large a portion of the globe. At its first introduction,
at its reformation, and in its present diffusion,
it has been the'company of the preachers'
that has arrested attention to its divine truths,
and subdued the hearts of men to its holy
power. And it always must be the case, however great may be the efficacy of those more
personal instruments of which we have spoken,
that the pulpit shall be the main engine for
the incitement and instruction of the individual
mind, and the maintenance of the power of re.
ligion in the Christian world.
Multitudes, however, habitually attend the
119 
120 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
preaching of the gospel, with little profit, ana
with no adequate apprehension of its purpose
or value.  Habit, thoughtlessness, inattention,
worldliness, cause its sublime instructions to
be unheeded, and render its powerful appeals
unimpressive. It may have been so with you,
in times past. But if you are now truly awake
to the necessity of studying the improvement
of your character, and making God's will the
rule of your life, you will listen eagerly to the
preaching of his truth, and drink it in as a
thirsty man water. I say nothing, therefore,
to urge the duty of attendance in the house of
prayer. You will esteem it one of your privileges, and will feel that, however imperfectly
the word may be dispensed, it is yet full of a
divine savor, and profitable to any one who
seeks his soul's good rather than his mind's
entertainment.
In order to the greatest advantage from this
duty, it is well, in the first place, to give heed
to the manner in which the other hours of the
Sabbath are spent. There can be no doubt
that one considerable cause of the inefficacy
of preaching is to be found in the circum.
stance that the remainder of the Sabbath is 
PREACHING.
passed id a manner little likely to prepare the
mind for its religious services, and suited to
obliterate the impressions received from them.
The sentiments excited in holy timne, instead
of being cherished, are checked and smothered by the uncongenial engagements of the rest
of the day; and Sunday becomes at length
even a day for hardening the heart, through
this habitual resistance of the most solemn
truths. For, when exposed to their frequent
repetition, if it do not yield to tliem, it must
inevitably become callous to them. This evil
you are to guard against, by making the whole
occupation of the day harmonize with that
portion of it which is spent in public worship.
And to do this implies no fanatical recluseness
or morose sullenness. It implies nothing but
the endeavor of a reasonable man, who finds
that the cares of the six days tend to distract
his feelings from religion, to counteract them
on the day set apart for that purpose. It is
only saying, with regard to all worldly occupations,  what Burke  said of politics in the
pulpit;-Six days are full of them, and six
days are enough; let us give one day to sonmething better.
11
121 
122 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
You will therefore be careful so to spend
your morning hours, that you shall enter the
sanctuary with a prepared mind,-already
touched with a sense of God, and tuned to his
praise. Your reading and your thoughts will
be directed to this purpose; and instead of
cherishing or inviting vain thoughts and a
light state of feeling, by lounging over a newspaper, or a novel, or by conversation on the
passing events of the day, you will occupy
yourself on such subjects as shall hallow the
temper of your mind, and exclude the crowd
of impertinent desires.   Then  you  will be
ready to join feelingly in the public service of
your Maker, and listen profitably to the exhortations of the pulpit.
You have doubtless observed in your own
case, and heard it remarked by others. that
the same  discourse, under different circumstances, seems like a very different thing; that
what at one time is listened to with pleasure
and interest, at another is heard with indifference.  To what can this be owing, but to the
variation in the hearer's state of mind? The
discourse is the same; but it addresses itself
to a soul at one time tuned to the occasion 
PREACHING.
and the subject, and at another tuned to something else.  So important is adaptation;-as
might be illustrated in a thousand ways.
IHence you will study to carry a prepared
m;nd to the hearing of the word, that you may
not fail of receiving the utmost edification.
Otherwise you may sit under the most powerful
ministry, and hear divine truth dispensed with
an eloquence worthy of angels, and yet sit
unmoved. It can be powerful to your heart,
it can effectually promote your progress in the
Christian life, only through your own preparation to receive it, and in proportion to that
preparation.
Let me also caution you to remember, that
there is good and important matter belonging
to every subject which the pulpit may treat;
and it is very unwise (to use the mildest
expression) to turn away dissatisfied, because
a sermon does not happen to fall in with the
state of your feelings.   Hearers  are  often
guilty of great injustice in this way. They
are too ready to measure the preacher's fidelity
by the degree in which he speaks to their own
immediate experience.   They  are earnestly
engaged in particular views, feelings, trains
123 
124 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
of thought, processes of experience, which
filling their mind, seem t) them all in all;
and if the preacher does not touch upon these,
they condemn him as dry, cold, and jejune.
But they should consider, that there are other
minds to be suited besides their own, and that
what is so ill adapted to themselves may be
precisely what is needed by others; nay,
precisely what they themselves may need at
another time. Instead of expressing dissatisfaction, they should rejoice that every one
receives in turn a portion adapted to him, and
endeavor to elicit something applicable to
themselves. If they will but seek, they will
often find. a seasonable word when they
least  expect it.   Let  me  entreat you  to
make this your habit. If you do not, it is
plain that many Sundays will be lost to you,
(for you cannot have your own case always
treated,) and you will, moreover, become a
fastidious and querulous hearer, discontented
with yourself, and uncomfortable to others.
But if you resolutely bring your mind to take
an interest in whatever you hear, you will
always find cause for contentment and satisfaction, if not for edification and delight. 
PREACHING.
Few things are more hostile to such attend ance on preaching as shall promote religious
improvement, than. the habit of listening to
sermons as literary or rhetorical efforts, and
for the gratification of a literary taste.  From
the very nature of the case, it must resuilt in
constant  dissatisfaction.  For let it be con sidered how few of all the authors who have
published books, are able to give this gratifica tion; and can it, then, be expected of every
preacher? How small a proportion of the
thousands who have preached, have printed
their sermons! and how few of these have a
place among the eminent names of literature!
Hence it is impossible that every preacher
should, every Sunday, satisfy a man who has
formed his taste on printed specinmens of
excellence, and who comes to gratify it at
church.   It is inevitable  that such a one
should be disappointed and displeased, far
more often than he shall be tolerably gratified.
Those who, on this ground, are accustomed
to speak harshly of ministers, and to excite
discontent-in the community, would do well to
reflect on the unreasonableness of the requisition, and learn that they injure themselves by
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125 
126 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
ooking for what they cannot expect to find, to
the neglect of that substantial good which
alone is intended to be conveyed. But he
who thinks only of improvement, and the religious exercise of his mind, will always find
something to engage and satisfy him.  Distinguished talent there may not be, nor
original thought, nor  striking  images.  nor
tasteful composition, nor eloquent jeclamatioIli; but Christian truth, old and familiar
perhaps, but still high and important, there always will be.   Dwelling upon  this, excited
by it to reflection, occupied in studying by its
light his own character and prospects, and the
perfections ar.d purposes of God, he has no
lack of interesting thought. The preacher
becomes but a secondary object. His God,
his duty, his salvation,-these are the topics
on which his mind runs; and these he can
contemplate: he will not be hindered from
contemplating them, whatever  may  be  the
feebleness or deficiencies of him who ministers
at the altar.
Bacon has laid down a rule for profitable
reading, which ought to be sacredly applied to
preaching, by those who would listen to it 
PREACHING.
profitably:'Read, not to contradict and
confute, nor to believe and take for granted
nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh
and  consider.'   What you hear from  your
minister,' weigh and consider' for a religious
end and a personal application. To listen as
a critic, with a fastidious nicety about diction,
and a captious sensibility to style, is a sure
method to defeat what should be the first
object with the hearer, as it is the great
purpose of the speaker. For which reason, it
has been remarked, we are not to be surprised
that Paul, with all his energy of speech, made
so few converts, and gathered no church,
among the Athenians; the sensitive and intellectual taste, and love of ingenious fancies,
which distinguished them, formed a habit of
mind peculiarly fitted to destroy the capacity
for receiving any strong and profound impressions.
In the next place, if you think that when
you leave the house of God, you may discharge from your mind the thoughts and
sentiments there excited; if you immediately
join in frivolous society and ordinary conversation; if you occupy your time in making
127 
128 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
visits of ceremony, or in reading the Sunday
newspaper and books of amusement, you can
derive little advantage from the service in
which you have engaged. However serious
may have been your attendance, however
earnest the wish for improvement, you are
taking the surest method to render it all
vain. The word spoken must be treasured
up, the counsels of wisdom must be made to
abide in the heart, the instructions and
warnings of Heaven must be fixed by reflection and thought, or the impressions you have
received will be transitory, and the good
purposes which spring up within you will pass
away like the early dew. If the preacher
have presented arguments for the truth of
Christianity, or for the support of any of its
great doctrines, of what use has this been to
you, if you shall know nothing about them
to-morrow?  And how  can you hope to remember what is so difficult to be retained, if
you take no pains to refresh your mind with
it by immediate retirement and contemplaiion?  If he have been urging you to the
study of your own heart, and pointing out the
sources of self-deception, and the means of 
PREACHING.
preservation against the sins which easily
beset you, and you have been  affected and
humbled, and made  to resolve on  greater
watchfulness; of what avail will this be, if
you immediately abandon yourself to frivolous
topics of thought? and how are you any the
better prepared for the temptations and trials
of to-morrow, if you thus drive from your
mind those views which were to strengthen
you? Or, if he have presented to you the
elevating truths respecting God, and heaven,
and man's prospects of glory, and thus raised
in your spirit a glow of divine love, and a
sense of your exalted destiny, add you at once
turn from it all to employments and thoughts
which are wholly of earth; then is not that
holy excitement worse than lost? have you
not done something to harden your heart, and
render it less capable of receiving the same
impression again? For you have resisted its
motions, and quenched its fire, by calling it
back to this lower world when it was just beginning to delight itself in heaven.
Depend upon it, that the mere attendance
upon public worship is very insufficient, without some care to fix its impressions afterward,
M
129 
130 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
and to recall and strengthen what you have
heard and enjoyed. It is wise, therefore, to
go back from church to retirement, there to
think over the truths that you have heard,
refresh the feelings that you have indulged,
appiy to your conscience the doctrine delivered, and supplicate the divine blessing. By
habitually doing this, you will in time become
possessed of a large fund of religious information and moral truth, which otherwise might
have been lost to you; and instead of being
in the condition of those, who cannot perceive that the pulpit has ever taught them any
thing, you will find it a most efficient and persuasive instructer.
It is a custom, with some persons, to make
a record of the discourses which they have
heard, entering in a book the texts and
subjects, together with a brief sketch of the
train of remark. This is a very commendable and useful custom, provided it be not allowed  to take off one's thoughts  from the
duty of self-application, and do not become a
mere effort of memory and trial of skill.  If
this be avoided, the practice will be found
useful in many respects. The exercise of 
PREACHING.
writing greatly assists that of thinking, and
discovers to one whether his ideas are distinct and clear. It enables and compels him
to look closely at the subject, so that he
cannot  dismiss  it with  the  cursory  and.
impatient examination which he might be
otherwise tempted to give it.  It enables him
afterwards to read, with distinctness, the
impressions which he received, and to revive
the purposes which he formed in consequence
of them. His record becomes a spiritual
monitor, reminding him, whenever he consults
it, of the lessons he has learned, and the
expostulations he has heard; and prompting
him to a more definite comparison of his
actual attainments with the standard which
has been placed before him. The advantages, which may thus be derived from it, will
be far more than a compensation for all the
trouble attending it.
But, whether you make such memoranda or
not, the practice of recalling to mind the
instructions and reflections of God's house,
if systematically pursued, will save you from
the pain of making the complaint which we
hear from so many that they cannot remem
131 
132 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
ber what they have heard, oftentimes not even
the text; and this, too, from persons who can
repeat all the particulars of a long story to
which they have listened, or a longer coniiversation in which they have taken Dart.
Why this difference? Partly because they
attended with greater interest to the story and
the conversation, partly because these are
more easily remembered than a formal discourse, but principally because these are
matters that they are accustomed to recall to
mind and repeat, which they have not been
accustomed to do in regard to sermons. The
want of practice is the principal difficulty.
Make it an object always to remember, and
be in the habit of going over again in your
mind, the principal topics, and you will not be
troubled with want of memory.
I should do wrong, however, if I did not
here speak a word of comfort to those humble
and sincere Christians, whose advantages in
early life were not such as to enable them
to form any habits of intellectual exertion,
and who are, in consequence, subject to a
weakness of memory which they have struggled against in vain, and which is a source 
PREACHINGe
of constant  unhappiness  to them.   Every
thing they hear from the pulpit slips from
their minds, even if it have highly moved and
delighted them; and they fear that this is a
sign of unprofitableness and sin. To such it
may be well to recommend the reply of John
Nefton to one who came to him sorrowing
with the same complaint. You iForget, said
he, what was preached to you. So, too, you
forget upon what food you dined a week or a
month ago; yet you are none the less sure
that you received nourishment from it: and
no doubt, also, that your spiritual food nourished you, though you have forgotten in what
it consisted. So long as you received it with
pleasure and a healthy digestion, and it has
kept you a living and growing soul, it can
be of no consequence whether you can particularly remember it or not.
Finally, preaching, however ineffectual it
may often prove, is one of the chief means of
grace, and is capable of being made, by every
individual, a principal agent in his religious
advancemrnent. Let it be so to you. It will
be so if you attend on it in a right spirit, and
faithfully strive to gain nourishment from it.
12
133 
134 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
Do not let it be your shame and guilt, that
you sit year after year within hearing of the
preacher's voice, and yet are none the better.
Do not suffer it to be with yourself, as it is
with many, that preaching grows less interesting as they advance. This, it is true, is
in part owing to the nature of the mind,
which finds a delight in what is new and
fresh, which it does not perceive in what has
been long familiar. There is a charm in
listening to the word preached, when the
soul is first awakened to an interest in the
concerns of its salvation, and devours every
sentence as a hungry man his food, which
cannot be fully retained in cooler and mattirer years. But if the charm be entirely
gone, if the relish be altogether lost, it must
be  through  your  own  fault.  It must  be
because you have not watched over the tastes
and susceptibility of your mind, but have,
through neglect, saffered it to become hardened. Be but faithful to yourself, cherish
your tenderness of spirit, take pains to keep
alive the ardor and interest of your younger
days, and you will find that your feelings will
not become wholly dead to the voice of the 
PREACHING.
preacher, nor will time and age be able to rob
you of this source of your enjoyment. The
ancient philosopher, on whom has been well
bestowed the title of' Rome's least mortal
mind,' in writing beautifully of old age, tells
us, that the great reason why the faculties of
men are impaired in the declining years of a
long life, is, that they cease to use and exercise them; and that any man, by continuing
vigorously to exert them as in earlier life,
may hope to retain them to the last, in something of their original power. The remark
may be applied to the old age of the Christian. By faithfully watching over and exercising his feelings and emotions, he may
retain them in some good degree of liveliness
and vigor to the latest period. And although
the zest with which he hung on the ministration of the word, in the first ardor of his
youthful faith, may be gone, he will maintain
a sober interest, and find a tranquil delight,
suited to the serenity of his fading days, and
to the peacefulness of the expectation with
which he waits the summons to go home.
135 
136 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
V. TIHE LORD'S SUPPER.
This interesting rite is the last in the series
of Christian means which I shall mention.
It is that to which the young disciple is
accustomed to look forward with intense feel ing, and the arrival at which constitutes an
era in his progress fondly expected and
fondly remembered. Sometimes it appears
to be regarded too much as the limit of
improvement, the goal of the course, the prize
of the victory, after which the believer is to
sit down and enjoy in security the attainments
he has made, exempt from the necessity of
further  watchfulness  and  combat.   It  is
owing, in no small degree, to the prevalence
of this opinion, that so many make no actual
or perceptible progress after their arrival at
the Lord's table. They esteem it less as the
means and incitement of greater improvement,
than as the end and completion of the work
they had undertaken; not so much a refresh-,
ment to their weakness in the trying journey
of duty, as the festival which rewards its
termination. Be on your guard against this
erroneous feeling. Habitually remember, that
your vigilance and labor are to end only at 
THE LORD'S SUPPER.
the grave; that the fight lasts as long as life;
that the crown of the victor is'laid up in
heaven;' and that whatever indulgences may
be granted here, they are but as encouragements to your perseverance and strengtheners to your weakness, designed to cheer
and help you on your way; not seasons of
repose and enjoyment, but of recollection and
preparation;-so that they, in fact, form a part
of that system of discipline, by which every
thing below is made to try and prove the
character of man.
In this light you will view the peculiar
ordinance of our faith,-as a privilege and
indulgence, but also as a pledge and incitement to activity in duty. From the moment
that it has been your purpose to become a
follower of Christ, you have looked forward
to this holy feast as something which it would
make you but too blest to be permitted to
partake. While czcupied with other means
of improvement, you have still felt that there
was one thing lacking, and have perhaps
been stimulated to a more earnest diligence
in the use of them, by the reflection that they
would prepare you for this ultimate and
12*                     v
137 
138 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
uperior enjoyment.   Such is the very common experience of the growing Christian
and it is my wish to show you how that may
be rendered a blessing in the enjoyment,
which has been so eagerly desired in the
anticipation.
Settle it distinctly in your mind, that this
ordinance, so far as relates to your concern in
it, has a twofold purpose; first, to express
and manifest your faith in Christ, and your
allegiance and attachment to him; secondly,
to aid and strengthen you in a faithful
adherence to his religion. That is to say, in
other words, by your attendance at the Lord's
table, you declare yourself to be, from principle
and affection, a Christian; and you seek to
revive and confirm the sentiments, purposes,
and habits, which belong to that character.
These are the two objects which the ordinanrce is intended to accomplish, and which
you are to have constantly in view.
By considering the first of these, you will
be enabled to decide how soon, and at what
period, you ought to offer yourself for this
celebration.   Can  you say, that you are in
principle and affection a follower of Jesus 
THE LORD'S SUPPER.
Christ?  This is the question you are to put
to yourself; not whether you have been such
for a long time; not how great attainments
you have made;-but are you such at heart,
and are you resolved perseveringly to maintain this  character?   Look  at this  question.  Ponder its meaning.   Put it to yourself faithfully. Do nothing with haste or
rashness, but proceed calmly and deliberately. Then, if you can conscientiously reply
in the affirmative, if you have already showed
so much constancy in your efforts, that you
may rationally hope to persevere, you may
make your profession before men, and take
the  promised  blessing.   Hasty minds  have
sometimes rushed forward too soon, and only
exposed their own instability, and brought dishonor on their calling. Be not, therefore, hasty. But timid men have sometimes hesitated
too long; have delayed till their ardor cooled,
till they fancied they could stand and flourish
without any further help, till death or age overtook them, and they were called to meet their
Lord without having confessed him before men.
Beware, therefore, that you delay not too long.
To deliberate whether we shall observe a cam
139 
140 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
mandment, after our minds are impressed
with a sense of the duty of doing so, is to
break it.  To postpone our acceptance of a
privilege, when we feel that it is such, and
know that it is offered to ourselves, is to refuse it, and to forego its benefits. He who
believes, and is resolved to live and die in his
belief, has a right to this ordinance; he is
under his Master's orders to attend it; and
he should reflect, that obedience, to be acceptable, should be prompt.
As soon, therefore, as your attention to religious things has sufficiently prepared  and
settled your mind, you will solemnly acknowledge it by this outward testimonial of faith.
So far the ordinance looks to the past. It
also looks to the future; and you will, secondly, as I said, use it as a salutary means of
religious growth, appointed to this end, and
singularly suited to accomplish it. You will
regard it, and attend it, as one of the appropriate instruments by which you are to keep
alive, and carry on to perfection, that principle
of spiritual life, which has had birth within
you, and which has made a certain progress
toward maturity. 
THE LORD S SUPPER.
It is a means singularly fitted to accomplish
this end, because it is an ordinance at once
so affecting and so comprehensive:-affecting,
by bringing directly before us, in one collected view, the circumstances under which it
was instituted, and the purposes of Heaven
with which it is connected;-the trials and
sufferings of the Son of man, the meekness
and sublimity of his submission, the tenderness and pathos of his last conversation and
prayers, the desertion in which he was left by
his disciples, the insults to which he was exposed from his enemies, the torture in which
he died, submissive and forgiving; and all
this, that he might seal the truth which he had
taught, and provide salvation for miserable
men. It is true that all this is familiar to the
mind, and often brought before it in other acts
of worship. But here it forms the express
subject of contemplation and prayer. Here it
is set before us more evidently and vividly by
the circumstances, the forms, the apparatus of
the occasion. It is made the special object
of regard, and therefore is suited in a peculiar manner, to affect us.
It has another advantage. It is as compre
141 
142 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
hensive as it is affecting. In its primitive in.
tention, in its simple purpose, it is, as it was
designated by our Lord himself, a commemoration of him:'This do in remembrance of
me.' And what is it to remember Jesus,
rightly and effectually, but to call to mind all
that he was, and did, and suffered, in his
own person; and all the blessings, advantages,
and hopes, which have resulted to us, and
shall forever result, from his ministry and
death? These are all connected together by
one close and indissoluble chain. They are
united, in inseparable union, with his name
and memory.  When we reflect on our Master, our minds cannot pause till they have
gone over all his example in life and death,
have recalled his character and instructions,
have pondered on the excellence  and beauty
of his truths, the glory of his promises, the
bliss of his inheritance. Thence they will pass
on to survey'the effects which he has already
produced on the condition and character of the
world, to observe the contrast of our present
enviable lot with what it would have been if
hlie had not established his reign among men,
and to contemplate the spreading prospects of 
THE LORD'S SUPPER.
human felicity in the wider extension of his
kingdom;-the removal of error, corruption,
ignorance, and sin, and the establishment of
universal truth, righteousness, knowledge, and
peace. Thence they will pass on to a future
world; to the unseen and unimaginable joys
of a life in which purity, love, and happiness,
shall be infinite in measure, and infinite in
duration, and where man, made the companson of angels, freed from sin and from suffer
ing, shall dwell in the light of God's presence
without end.  We shall recollect, that for all
our hope of acceptance to that world, and of
pardon for the sins which have made us unworthy of it; for all those gifts of light and
strength which shall prepare us for it; for all
the tranquillity, consolation, and support,
which, in weakness, sorrow, and death, the
knowledge of our immortality imparts,-for
these we are indebted to Jesus Christ,
without whom we should still have remained
ignorant on this first of subjects, and unconsoled in the severest trials.  So that, in one
word, there is no topic of religion, none of
thanksgiving or prayer, none of penitence,
gratitude or hope, none of present or of
143 
144 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT
future felicity for ourselves or for others,
which is not called up to the mind by the
faithful use of this simple but expressive
service. As the believer sits at his Master's
table, he seems to himself to be sitting in his
presence; together with his image, every
blessing of his faith and hope rises brightly to
view; and his heart burns within him, as he
contenlmplates the grace with which his
unworthy spirit has been visited, and realizes
the hope that he shall partake of the glories
which his Lord revealed. As he looks unto
him,' the Author and Finisher of our faith,
who, for the joy set before him, endured the
cross, despising the shame,' he grows strong
to do and endure likewise; animated by the
hope set before him of entering into the joy to
which his crucified Master has ascended.
Is it not, then, evident, that you have here a
means of singular power, to keep the attention awake and the heart right; and that your
spirit can hardly slumber, if you faithfully
open it to the influences of this observance?
Remember,  however, that it. value will depend on yourself, and the manner in which
you engage in it. It has no mystical charm, 
THE LORD'S SUPPER.
no secret and magic power, to bless you
against your will. Every thing depends on
your own sincerity and devotion. Earnestly
desire, and pray, and endeavor that it may
do you good, and it will do you good. Go to
it heedless, thoughtless, and unprepared, and
it will prove to you an  idle and inefficient
ceremony. The great cause why so many
derive no improvement from the repeated performance of the duty, is, that they attend it
with inconsideration and coldness, and with
little purpose or desire of being affected by it.
Let your attendance be in a different state
of mind. Engage resolutely in the suitable
meditations; examine yourself before and
after; come to the celebration with a temper
prepared for worship, and leave it with one
prepared for duty.
There is a peculiar feature in the mode
of administering this ordinance, distinguish
ing it from all other acts of social worship,
to which it may be well to advert. I refer to
the pauses during its administration, when
each worshipper is left to himself, to follow
his own reflections, and make his own pray.
ers. There are thus united in the occasion
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145 
146 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
some of the advantages both of social and
of private devotion. When you have been
excited by the voice of the minister and of
general prayer, you are permitted to retire,
without interference, into your own heart, to
repeat the petitions and confessions with a
more close reference to your own case, and to
make yourself certain that you understand
and feel the service in which you are engaged.
You may find a great advantage in these silent intervals. In all other instances of social
worship, your attention is required, without
ceasing, to some external process; and you
pass on from one part of the service to
another, with little opportunity to reflect, as
you proceed, or to pursue the suggestions
which are made, in the manner that your own
peculiar condition may require. But in this,
the leisure is given for thoroughly applying
to your owvn personal state all that has met
your ear, and for pouring out freely the devon
tional feeling which has been excited. And if
there be any thing favorable to the soul, as
multitudes of devout persons have insisted, in
occasions for contemplative worship in the
presence of other men, then, in this respect, the 
THE LORD'S SUPPER.
Lord's supper may claim a superiority over
every other season of social devotion.
Many persons, I am aware, find it difficult
so to control their minds as to render these
silent moments profitable. But to such persons the very difficulty becomes a useful discipline, and the occasion should be valued for
the sake of it.  To aid them in the use of it,
and to prevent its running to waste in miserable listlessness and idle rovings of the mind,
it might be well that they should have with
them some suitable little book of meditations
and reflections, which they may quietly consult
in their seats as guides to thought and devotion.
In a word, prepare your mind beforehand,
be faithful during the celebration, review it
when it is past; and you will never have reason to complain of its inefficacy as a means
of religious improvement. You may not enjoy
high and mystical raptures; you may be sometimes overtaken with languor and coldness;
but as long as, in sincerity, and from motives
of duty, you present yourself in this way before the Lord, you will find that there is re.
freshment and encouragement in the act
147
11 
148 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT.
You will have in it satisfaction, if not ecstasy;
and will never doubt that something of the
steadfastness of your principle, and of the
vigor of your hope, is owing to this affectionate
application of the life, example and sacrifice
of the Saviour, in the way of his appoints
men. 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
CtJIAPTER V.
THE RELIGIOUS DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
NEXT to the means to be employed in the
promotion of personal religion, we must attend to the oversight and direction of the
character in general.  The means of which
we have taken notice, consist of a series of
special and stated exercises, whose object is
to prepare us for the right conduct of actual
life; and they may be compared to the daily
drill of the soldier, by which he is made
ready for the field. Watchfulness and self
discipline belong to all times and occasions,
and may be compared to the actual use which
the soldier makes of his preparation in the
camp  and the field.  The  Christian is engaged occasionally in prayer, med(litation,
study, and the communion; he must watch
and govern himnself always. To the former
duties he devotes certain appropriate seasons;
the latter belong to every season and all hours.
The former constitute his preparation for the
13'
149 
150      THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
Christian life; the latter constitute its pervad
ing spirit.  No  punctuality or fidelity in the
former proves a man to be religious without
the latter. And therefore, having stated the
manner in which these means are to be used,
it is necessary for us to go on and show how
they are to affect the whole conduct of life, and
make it an exercise of perpetual self-discipline.
Why you are to be always watchful over
yourself, is easily perceived. In this world
of sensible objects and temporal pursuits, you
are constantly exposed to have your thoughts
absorbed by surrounding things, and with.
drawn from the spiritual objects to wlhich
they should be primarily attached. You are
incited to forget them, to slight them, to
counteract  them.   The  engagements,  the
anxiety, hurry, and pleasures of life, thrust
them from your thoughts; and desires, pro.
pensities, passions, are excited quite inconsistent with the calm and heavenward affections
of Christ.  All these tendencies in your situation are to be resisted.  You are to be ever on
the alert, that tney may not icad you into any
course of thought or of action at variance
with the principles to which you are pledged 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
as a believer in Jesus Christ, and which form
your delight in your hours of devotional erjoyment. Such inconsistency may be sometimes
witnessed. But what can be more melancholy than to see a rational being, deeply
convinced of the truths of religion, in his
sober hours of thought dwelling on them with
fond and delighted contemplation, excited by
them to a devout ardor of communion with
God, and sometimes to a glow of holy rapture
which seems to belong to a superior nature; —
and then sinking into worldliness, governing
himself in ordinary life by selfish maxims of
temporal interest, obeying the passions and
propensities of his animal being, and, in a
word, living precisely as he would do, did he
believe that there is nothing higher or better
than this poor life? I ask, what can be more
sad or pitiable than such a spectacle? Let it
be your earnest care to guard against so deplorable an inconsistency. Now, while your
mind is warm with its early interest in divine
thinigs,-now, while they press upon you in
all their freshness,-now, take heed that you
do not concentrate that interest, and use all
its strength, in the luxury of devout musing
151 
THE DISCIPLINE OP LIFE.
or the excitements of study and devotion; but
carry it into your whole life; let it be always
present to you in all you do, in all you say;
let it form your habitual state of feeling, your
customary franie of mind and temper. Make
it your constant study that nothing shall be
inconsistent with it, but every thing partake
of its power.   This is the watchfulness in
which you must live. This is the purpose
for which you must exercise over yourself
an unremitting and ever-wakeful discipline;
seeing to it, like some magistrate over a city,
or some commander over an army, that all
your thoughts, dispositions, words and actions
be subject to the law of God, and the principles of the Christian faith.
Thus it is plain, that your chief business,
as well as your great trial, in forming a
Christian character, lies in the ordinary tenor
of life. The WORLD is the theatre on which
you are to prove yourself a Christian. It is
in the occurrences of every day, in the relations of every hour, in your affairs, in your
family, in your conversation with those around
you, in your treatment of them, and your
reception of their treatment;- it is in these
152 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
that you are to cultivate and perfect the
character of a child of God.   It is in these
that your passions are exercised, and your
government of them proved; in these that
your command over that unruly member, the
tongue, is made known; in these that temptations to wrong doing and evil speaking
beset you, and that you are to apply your
religious  principle  in  resisting them.   In
these it is, consequently, that you discover
whether your principle is real and genuine, or
whether it lies only in feeling and in words.
In the quiet of your chamber, in the devout
solitude of your closet, when the world is shut
out, and your solemnized spirit feels itself
alone with God, you may be so exalted by
communion with Heaveti, and by meditation
on heavenly truth, that all things earthly shall
seem worthless and paltry, and every desire be
set upon things above. How often, at such
times, does it appear as if the world had no
longer any charms, as if its pleasures and
pomnip could never again entice or delight us!
Our souls are above them. We have no more
relish for them than have the angels. And
if this were all which is required of us, if
0
153 
15 4     THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE
nothing opposed to this delightful frame of
mind were ever to cross our path, the Chris.
tian prize would be already won. But, alas!
min the closet, and in the third heaven of
contemplation, we can live but a small portion
of the time. We must come down from the
mount.   We   must  enter  the  crowd  and
distractions of common life. We must engage in common and secular affairs. And
there, how much do we encounter that is
opposed to the calm and serene spirit of our
contemplative hours! how much to irritate
and disturb our quiet  self-possession! how
much to drive from our thoughts the subjects
on which we have been musing! how much
to revive the relish for transient pleasures and
worldly enjoyments, and a love for the things
which minister gratification to pride and to
the senses! In the midst of these things,
dangerous, enticing, seductive, you are to
live and walk unchanged, unseduced, undefiled; your heart true to its Master, your
spirit firm in its allegiance to God, and your
soul as truly devout and humble as when
worshipping at the altar. Is this easy? I
will not ask;  but is it not your great, your 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
paramount, trial? Is it not here, that the
very battle of your soul's salvation is to be
fought? Is not this, as I said, the very field
of actual and decisive war, the very seat of the
fearful and final campaign? And the prayers
and studies, and observances of your more
special devotion, are they not the buckling
on of the armor, and the refreshing and
preparing of the soul for its real combat?
You perceive, then, how the Christian life
must consist in watchfulness and self-discipline; how it must be your great business
to keep a faithful guard over yourself, that,
both in mind and conduct, nothing may exist
contrary to the spirit and precepts of Jesus
Christ.
First of all, this guard is to be placed upon
the Mind.   It is an  intellectual,  internal,
spiritual discipline; the oversight and management of the thoughts and affections.
There is a superficial religion, not unpopular in the world, which is limited to the outward conduct and the external relations of
life; which is made to consist exclusively in
rectitude of behavior and uprightness of
dealing. Into this error you are not likely to
155
I 
156      THE DISCIPL1NE OF LIFE.
fall, if' you learn your religion from the New
Testamnent; and I should not have thought it
needful to warn you against it, had it not been
so prevalent. Nothing but its commonness
could render it credible, that men, who possess the Scriptures, and fancy they understand
them, or whio are simply capable of observation on the nature of man and of happiness,
should persuade themselves that the character
which God demands and will bless, is independent of the state of the mind and the frame
of the affections. Is it not the mind which
constitutes the man?   Is it not the mind
which gives its moral complexion to the conduct?   Is  it not  certain,  that  the same
conduct which we applaud as indicating an
upright character, we should disapprove and
condemn, on discovering that it proceeded
from base and improper motives? So that
even men judge of character rather by the
principle which actuates, than by the actions
themselves.   How  much  more  completely
would this be the case, if, instead of being
obliged to infer the principle from the act,
they could  discern  the principle itself as it
lies in the mind of the agent! Who, in that 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
case, would ever judge a man by his actions
alone? Who would not always decide respecting his character from the principles and
motives which guided him,-his thoughts,
dispositions, and habitual temper? And thus
it is that the Deity judges and decides. He
looks not on the outward appearance, but on
the heart. Consequently, how obvious is the
position, that, in seeking the Christian character, the first and most diligent watch must
be placed over the inner man!'Keep thy
HIEART with all diligence; for out of it are the
issues of life.'
This implies several things. First, a careful guard over the Thoughts. It is in the
heedless disregard of the thoughts that
corruption often takes its rise. They are
suffered to wander without restraint, to attach
themselves without check to any objects
which attract the senses, or are suggested in
conversation, and to rove uncontrolled from
one end of the world to another. How many
hours are thus wasted in unprofitable musing,
which leaves no impression behind! How
much of life is made an absolute blank!
Worse still, how often do sinful fancies, sen
14
157 
158      THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
sual images, unlawful desires, take advantag
of this negligence to insinuate themselves into
the mind, and make to themselves a home
there, polluting the chambers of the soul,
and rendering purity unwelcome!  This is
the beginning of evil with many a one, who,
from this want of vigilance over the course
of his thoughts, has surrendered himself to
frivolity and sensuality, without being aware
that he was in peril. Thoughtlessness, mere
thoughtlessness, has left the door open to sin,
and the same thoughtlessness prevents the
detection of the intruder.
You may fancy that your present preference for profitable subjects of thought, is such
that you are in no danger from this source.
But beware of trusting to any present disposition. If you become confident, you will
fall; and the rather, because the beginning
of this peril is so subtle and sly. Believe that
the danger is real and imnminent, or it is
scarcely possible that you should not suffer
from it. You may not, indeed, fall a victim to
irregular desires and hurtful immoralities;
but the  habit  of unwatched  thought  will
weaken your control over your mind, will 
THE  DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
diminish your power of self-government, and
rob you of that vigorous self-possession, alive
to every occasion, and prompt at every call,
which forms the decision of character that
ought to belong to him who professes to
follow the energetic principles of Christian
morality. So that, if you would be saved from
an unbecoming weakness of mind, and its
possible, not to say probable, consequences,
ungoverned desires and passions, keep a
guard upon your thoughts. Let your morning and evening prayer be, that you may live
thoughtfully. And when, in the business of
the day, your hands are occupied, but your
mind free to think, keep yourself attentive
to your thoughts.   Inquire frequently how
they are engaged. Direct them to useful and
innocent subjects.   Think  over the  books
you have been reading; rehearse to yourself
the knowledge you have gained; call up the
sermons you have heard; repeat the passages
of scripture you know.   By methods like
these, take care that even your empty hours
minister to your improvement.    Paley has
truly observed, that every man has some
favorite subject, to which his mind spontane
159 
160      THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
ously turns at every interval of leisure; and
that with the devout man the subject is God.
Hence  the  watching  over  your  thoughts
furnishes you with a ready test of your religious condition; it exposes to you the first
and faintest symptoms of religions decline,
and enables you to apply an immediate
remedy.
If the thoughts, which may be expressed in
words, are to be thus guarded, the Temper
and Feelings, which are often so indefinable
in language, require a no less anxious guardianship.   In  the perplexities and  trials of
daily life, in the conflict with the various tempers and frequently perverse dispositions of
those around us, in the little crosses, the petty
disappointments, the trifling ills which are our
perpetual lot, we are exposed to lose that calm
equanimity of mind which the Christian
shoule habitually possess. We are liable to
be ruffled and irritated, and to feel and display
another spirit than that gentleness which
'bears all things and is not easily provoked.'
The selfishness of some, the obstinacy of oth.
er,e tre pride of our neighbor, the heedlessness
of our children, and the unfaithfulness of our 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
dependents, tire our patience, and disturb our
self-possession; while bodily infirmity and disordered nerves magnify insignificant inconve.
niences into serious evils, and irritate to peevishness and discontent the temper which duty
calls to cheerfulness and submission.   Some
are blessed with a native quietness of temperament which hardly feels these hourly vexations. But of some they form the great trial,
and peculiar cross; they can bear any thing
better. And to all persons they constitute an
exposure full of hazard, and demanding cautious vigilance.   The  very spirit and essential traits of the Christian character require
watchfulness against them, and imply conquest
over them. The humility, meekness, forbearance, gentleness, and love of peace; the longsuffering, the patience, the serenity, which
form so lovely a combination, which portray a
character that no one can fail to admire and
love;-these are to be maintained only by
much and persevering watchfulness.
Without this, the most equable disposition
by nature may become irritable and unhappy.
With it, under the authority and guidance of
Christian faith, the most unfortunate natural
14*                      r
161 
1G2      THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
temper is subdued to the gentleness of tlle
lamb. Without it, the internal condition of
man is restless, rebellious, full of wretchedness, having no peace in itself, and enjoying
nothing around. With it, the aspect of the
world becomes changed; every thing is bearable, if not pleasant; the sweet light which
beams within, shines on all without, making
pleasant the aspect of all men, and smoothing
the roughnesses of all affairs. Who does not
know how much the events of life take their
hue from the state of the disposition? To the
proud, suspicious, and jealous, every man
seems an intruder, every gesture an insult,
and every event a cause of vexation and wrath.
To the self-governed and amiable, every thing
is tolerable, and he feels nothing of the inconveniences which make the misery of the other.   One's happiness, therefore, as well as
duty, requires this control of the disposition.
And when the Saviour pronounced his benediction on the pure, peaceful, humble-minded,
and meek, he taught, not only the great requisite of his spiritual kingdom, but the great
secret of human felicity.
When the frame of yoiir mind is thus a con 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
stant care, you will find little difficulty in the
control of the Appetites.  These things are
connected together; and, an ascendency over
the former being secured, the subjection of
the latter easily follows. But take good heed
that it does follow. Do not be thoughtless
about it, because you fancy that it will of
course accompany a regulated mind. Otherwise it is here that corruption may begin.
The enemy will enter at any place, however
improbable, which shall be left unguarded.
And it only needs that the body become disordered through the immoderate indulgence
of the appetites, to raise a rebellion through
out the whole moral system; or, to speak
more plainly, this indulgence will create
cloudiness of mind, indisposition to thought,
activity, and duty, irritability of temper, sluggishness of devotional feeling, and at length a
general spiritual lethargy. There can be little
doubt, that much of our dullness of apprehension and deadness of feeling on spiritual topics,
as well as our strange sensibility to minor trials, is owing to a derangement' of the animal
economy, which is again owing to want o/
moderation in gratifying our animal desires
163 
164      THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
Hence there was some reason in the abstinence and fastings of religious men in ancient
times; and if we valued sufficiently, wilaE they
perhaps valued superstitiously,-serenity and
brightness of mind, an equal temper, and a
perpetual aptitude for spiritual contemplation,we should imitate them more, if not in their
fastings, yet certainly in their temperance.
At any rate,'let your moderation be known
unto all men.'   For temperance is not only
the observance of an express injunction, but is
essential to that quietness and self-control
which should mark the religious character.
The next exercise of self-discipline will be
in Conversation. Conversation, while it is a
chief source of improvement and pleasure, is
also a scene of peculiar trial, and the occasion
of much sin.   One might suppose that few
persons ever dream that they are accountable
for what passes in conversation, although
there is no point of ordinary life which Jesus
and the Apostles have more frequently and
sternly put under the control of religious prin
ciple. Their language is strikingly urgent on
t'iis head; and yet, so little scrupulousness is
there among men, even religious men, that it 
rHE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE
would seem as if they felt ashamed to be careful in their talk. A thoroughly well-governed
speech is so rare, that we still say, in the words
of James,' If any man offend not in word, the
same is a perfect man.'
Do not allow yourself to be off your guard
in this respect. Make it a part of your business, by a cautious prudence, to have your
speech consistent with the rest of your character.  Do not flatter yourself that your thoughts
are under due control, your desires properly
regulated, or your dispositions subject as they
should be to Christian principle, if your intercourse with others consists mainly of frivolous
gossip, impertinent anecdotes, speculations on
the character and affairs of your neighbors.
the repetition of former conversations, or a
discussion of the current petty scandal of society; much less, if you allow yourself in
careless exaggeration on all these points, and
that grievous inattention to exact truth which
is apt to attend the statements of those whose
conversation is made up of these materials.
Give no countenance to this lamentable departure from charity and veracity, which it is
mortifying to observe commonly marks the
165  
166      THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
every-day gossip of the world. Let precision
in every statement distinguish what you say,
remembering that a little lie, or a little unchar
itableness, is no better than a little theft. Be
slow to speak those reports to another's disadvantage, which find so ready a circulation and
are so eagerly believed, though every day's experience shows us that a large proportion of
them are unfounded  and false.   In a word,
be convinced that levity, uncharitableness, and
falsehood, are as truly immoral and irreligious
in the common intercourse of life, as on its
more solemn occasions; that idle and injurious words make a part of man's responsible
character, as really as blasphemy and idolatry;
and that' if any man seem to be religious,
and bridle not his tongue, that man's religion
is vain.
'A word spoken in season, how good it is!'
Why should you not do all in your power to
elevate the tone of conversation, and render
the intercourse of man with man more rational and profitable? Let your example of
cheerful, innocent, blameless words, in which
neither folly nor austerity shall find place, exhibit the uprightness and purity of a mind 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
controlled by habitual principle, and be a
recommendation of the religion you profess.
Let the authority of that faith to which you
subject every other department of your character, be extended to those moments, not the
least important, in which you exercise the pe
culiar capacity of a rational being in the
interchange of thought. Never let it be said
of your tongue, which Watts has truly called
'the glory of our frame,' that with it you bless
God, and at the same time make its habitual
carelessness a curse to men, who are formed
in the similitude of God.
The influence of the principle which rules
within, should thus be seen in all your deportment and intercourse, on every occasion and
in every relation. Your outward life should
be but the manifestation and expression of the
temper which prevails within, the acting-out
of the sentiments which abide there; so that
all who see you may understand, without your
saying'it in words, how supreme with you is
the authority of conscience, how reverent your
attachment to truth, how sacred your adherence to duty; how full of good-will to men,
and  how  devoutly submissive to  God, the
167 
168       THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
habitual tenor of your mind. Your spontaneous, unconstrained action, flowving without effort
from your feelings, amid the events of every
day, should be the unavoidable expression of
a spirit imbued with high and heavenward
desires; so that, as in the case of the Apostles,
those who saw them'took knowledge of them
that they had been with Jesus,' it may in like
manner be obvious that you have learned of
that holy Teacher. And this may be without
any obtrusive display on your part, without
asking for observation, without either saying
or hinting,'Come, see my zeal for the Lord.'
The reign of a good principle in the soul carries its own evidence in the life, just as that of
a good government is visible on the face of
society. A man of a disinterested and pious
mind bears the signature of it in his whole
deportment.  His Lord's mark is on his forehead. We may say of his inward principle,
which an Apostle has called' Christ formed
within us,' as was said of Christ himself dur.
ing his beneficentt ministry;-It'cannot be
hid.' There is an atmosphere of excellence
about such a man, which gives savor of his
goodness to all who approach, and through 
THE DISCIPLINE Of LIFE.
which the internal light of his soul beams out
upon all observers. Consequently, if you allow yourself in a deportment inconsistent with
Christian uprightness, propriety, and charity,
you are guilty of bringing contradiction and
disgrace on the principles which you profess;
you expose yourself to the charge of hypocritically maintaining truths to which you do not
conform yourself. You dishonor your religion
by causing it to appear unequal to that dominion over the human character which it claims
to exert.  All men know that, if' the salvation
reigned within,' it would regulate the movemnents of the life as surely as the internal motions of the watch are indicated on its face;
if the hands point wrong, they know, without
looking further, that there is disorder within.
That disorder they will attribute either to the
incapacity of the principle, or to your unfaithfulness in applying it. But, what is of far great.
er importance, the holy and unerring judgment of God will ascribe it to the single cause
of your own unfaithfulness; and for all your
wanderings from Christian constancy, and all
the consequent dishonor to the Christian
15
169 
170     THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
name, you must bear the shame and reproach
in the final day of account.
You perceive how urgent is the call for perpetual watchfulness and rigid self-discipline.
It is not easy, with much intentional guard
over yourself, to keep the spirit habitually
right in this giddy and tempting world; and it
is equally difficult to maintain a perfect coincidence between the principle within and the
deportment of daily life.  Oftentimes, in the
emergencies and hurry of business, pleasure,
and society, where many things concur to
drown the voice of the spirit within, we find
the lower propensities of our nature gaining an
ascendency, and the law in our members rising in rebellion against the law in our mind.
'The things that we would, we do not, and
the things that we would not, those we do;'
and sense and passion triumph for the moment
over reason and  faith.'The  flesh lusteth
against the spirit, and the spirit against the
flesh, and these are contrary the one to the
other.' And how shall we gain the victory in
this perpetual contest?'Through our Lord
Jesus  Christ,' says  the Apostle;   and  the 
THE DISCIPLINE OF  LIFE.
means thereto are found in his injunction,
'Watch and pray, that ye enter not into
temptation.'   Vigilance over every hour and
in every engagement, carrying into them the
shield of faith and the whole armor of God;
and prayer, without ceasing, that your soul may
be strong to wield them;-these will secure to
you the victory.   Sometimes you will find
yourself in perplexities and straits sometimes
faltering and irresolute; but never forsaken
or cast down, never exposed to temptation
which you are unable to bear, or from which
there is no way of escape. You may' do all
things through Christ who strengtheneth you.'
I have thus spoken of that religious discipline of daily life, in which the Christian
character is formed and tried. It will be sufficient to add, in conclusion, that your great
concern must be with two things,-your principles and your habits.
First, you must constantly have an eye to
your Principles. Take care that they be kept
pure, and that you abide by them. They
have been well compared to the compass of
the ship, on which if the helmsman keeps a
faithful eye, and resolutely steers by it in
171 
172      THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
spite of the opposition of winds and w-7es, he
will find the way to his port; but by heedless
inattention to it, he is sure to go astray, and be
blown whither he would not. Be assured that
it is only by adherence to principle, in resolute defiance of inclination, opposition, present
interest, and worldly solicitation, that you
can ensure the steady progress of your soul,
and its final arrival in heaven. Neglect it,
and you are at the mercy of circumstances,
tossed helpless on the waters of chance, exposed to the buffetings of temptation without the
power of resistance, and a sure prey of the
destroyer.  You must find your safety in the
strength of your principle; and that strength
lies in the original power of conscience, and
the added authority of the divine word.   Herein is the' still small voice' of Heaven; and he
that will'cover his face' from the world, and
obediently listen to it, may become morally
omnipotent.
Secondly, have an eye to your Ilabits.
Add to the authority of principle the vigor and
steadfastness of confirmed habit, and your re.
ligious character becomes almost impregnable
to assault. It is in no danger of overthrow, 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
except from the most cunning assailants in a
season of your most culpable negligence.
What wisdom and kindness has the Creator
displayed in our constitution, that we are able
to rear around our virtue the strong bulwark
of habit! It is a defence of the weakest
spirit against the strongest trial.   Through
the power of habits early formed, how many
have stood in exposed places, and been unaffected by solicitations to sin, beneath which
others have fallen, who trusted to their good
purposes, but who had never confirmed and invigorated them in action! Ihow often, for example, has the young man from a retired
situation,-educated in the bosom of a virtuous family, and under the eye of a watchful
father, thence sent forth to the new scenes of
a city life, under the protection of good principles and a sincere purpose to do well,-been
found weak and wanting in the exposure; and
been carried away headlong by the tide of
temptation, because his early habits were suited only for seclusion, and his principles were
guarded by none which could secure them
against the novel assaults that were made upon
them! While, on the other hand, young men
173 
174      THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
brought up in the midst of these solicitations
to sin, with far less inculcation of principle, are
oftentimes enable(, through the mere strength
which habit imparts, to resist them  all, and(
live in the midst of them as if they were not.
It cannot be necessary to multiply exam
pies. You well know what a slave man is tu
his habitual indulgences, and how the customary routine of his life and methods of employment tyrannize over him, and how frequently
one strives in vain to free himself from their
dominion. The old proverb is every day
verified before you, of the skin of the Ethiopian and the spots of the leopard. But, if
thus powerful for evil, habit is no less powerful
for good. If in some cases it be stronger than
principle, and defy all the expostulations of
religion, even when the miserable man is convinced that his safety lies in breaking from it;
then, when enlisted as the ally of principle,
when coupled with faith, and made the fellow.
worker of piety, how unspeakable may be its
aid toward the security and permanence of
virtue!
Take heed therefore to your habits. Allow
yourself to form none but such as are 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
mnocent, and such as may help your efforts
to  do  well.   In Ahe  arrangement of your
business, in the miethods of your household
and family, in the disposal of your time, in
the choice, seasons, and mode of your recreation, in your love of company, and your selection of books,-in these preserve a simple
and blameless taste.   Do not allow any of
them to be such as shall offer an obstacle to
serious thought, and induce a state of feeling
indisposed to religious exercises. Especially
do not allow them so to enter the frame and
texture of your life, that every effort of virtue
and devotion shall be a pitched battle with
some cherished inclination, or  sturdy habit
This is to increase most unwisely and needlessly the trials and perils of a religious
course. It is to raise up for yourself obstacles
and difficulties beyond those which properly
belong to your situation. Rather, therefore,
arrange every thing in your customary pursuits and indulgences to favor the grand end
of your being; so that every act of piety and
faith shall be coincident with it; so that little
or no effort shall be required to maintain the
eteady order of daily duty; and, instead of an
175 
176      THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE.
opposition, a struggle, a contest, whenever
principle asserts its claims, you shall find the
ready consent and hearty cooperation of all the
habitual preferences, tastes, and occupations,
of your life. He in whom this is so, is the
happy man. He is the consistent man. He
is the man to be congratulated, to be admired, to be imitated.   Universal harmony
reigns within him; no oppositions, no jarring
contentions, mar his peace.   With-him, the
flesh and the spirit are no longer contrary the
one to the other. IIis duty and his inclination are one.   There is no dispute between
what he ought to do, and what he wishes to
do.   But, with one  consenting voice, heart
and life move on harmoniously, accustomed to
and loving the same things.   To  him  the
yoke is indeed easy, and the burden light.
To him heaven is already begun; and when
at last he shall be welcomed to the joy of his
Lord, it will be to a joy which his regulated
spirit has already tasted in the labors and
pleasures of obedience below. 
PROGRESS
OF THE
CHRISTIAN LIFE  
ADVERTISEMENT.
AT the period when Mr. Ware's health
began irrecoverably to fail, and just before
he was obliged to give up all occupation, he
was devoting his hours of leisure to the preparation of a sequel to his work on the Formation of the Christian Character, which he
designed to entitle "Progress of the Christian Life." Several chapters only were finished. They are too valuable to be lost,
and are here ptiblished in the hope that they
may be useful. The reader will form by
them an idea of what the sequel would have
been if its author had lived to finish it.
C. R.
1I   
AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
THE  following pages are designed as a
sequel to the little work on the Formnation
of the Christian Character, and are supposed
to be addressed to the same persons. When
one has adopted the Christian faith as his
rule of life, and begun in earnest his religious
existence, it is still but the commencement
of a career in which an indefinite progress is
to be made, and which is to continue forever.
As long as man is imperfect, there is room
for improvement.   As long as he is in the
flesh, there is occasion for watchfulness and
struggling against temptation. There is need
that his principles become more and more
fixed, his conscience more and more enlight 
AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
ened and controlling, his passions more thoroughly obedient to the law of righteousness,
and his whole temper and demeanor more
steadfastly conformed to the example of
Christ. In a word, he is to grow in grace.
Advancenment is his duty, perfection his aim.
It is with regard to this duty of religious
progress that I propose to offer a few hints.
There are some errors respecting it prevalent
among believers, which I would first attempt
to rectify; and then I would explain its true
nature and character, remove discouragements, and show the means and steps by
which it should proceed, and how actual
success is to be ascertained.
8 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER  1.                  rAGe
Errors respecting the duty of religious prog ress noticed and corrected- especially the
error that the Christian life, having been
begun, is accomplished,........11
CHAPTER II.
Errors noticed and corrected- especially the
error that the Christian life is not to be taken
up expressly- is not to have a marked com mencement,............................. 27
CHAPTER III.
Errors noticed and corrected- especially the
error of those who fancy that the Christian
life may be sustained without the use of
means,..................................39
CHAPTER IV.
The young Christian put on his guard against
the hinderance to progress which arises from
disappointment respecting the enjoyment of
a religions life.......................... 52 
CONTENTS.
CH~APTE~R~ s V  ~.   0   2aG
Considerations designed to assist the Christian
in the successful use of the means and
methods of religious progress,............. 65
CHAPTER VI.
Maxims on which the expectation of religious
progress is to be built.................... 78
N. B.  The following titles of additional chapters or
sections are given in Mr. Ware's manuscript:  Ilinderances.   How  Progress manifests itself, and is
to be ascertained.  Progress in Knowledge, in Self-government, in Spirituality of Temper, in Conscientiousness,
in Diinterestedness, tn Powuer to resist Temptation. In
what sense Perfitction is to be expected, Sac. Sac.
10
CHAPTER V.
-4 
PROGRESS 
OF THE
CHRIS T.I AN
CHAPTER I.
ERRORS RESPECTING THE DUTY OF RELIGIOUS
PROGRESS NOTICED AND CORRECTED - ES PECIALLY THE ERROR THAT THE CHRIS.
TIAN LIFE, HAVING BEEN BEGUN, IS AC  COMPLISIIED.
NOTHING can be plainer than that the
Christian character is a thing to be acquired
and to be improved; yet it is evident that
many do not so regard it. If we may judge
from their conduct, the number is not small
of those who esteem it something which
belongs to them just as the body does, and
to be kept alive and in health just like that,
LIF E. 
PROGRESS OF THE
by living along from day to day, as the circumstances of each day may suggest, but
not to be the subject of any special regard.
But as to being every day better than the
day before, as to being more humble and
charitable this year than they were last, it
does not enter their mind, it makes no part
of their plan. They have been Christians,
they say, as long as they can remember; they
always believed in the gospel, and meant to
do their duty. But they do not know more
about the history and foundation, the nature
and purposes, of their religion, nor are they
in any respect more devoted. Indeed, when
one thinks seriously on the subject, it is a
matter of amazement to him to observe how
stationary good men are, and how quietly
they content themselves with being so.
It is not so in other matters. We look
around us on the community, and we see it
in a state of commotion and advancement.
Its prosperity is a wonder to us, and that
prosperity is progress. Every one is pushing
forward. Every one is eager and panting for
success. Our young men rise step by step;
they are discontented if they find it other
12 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
wise. Those who began life with nothing
are seen in a few years comfortably living
with a family around them, -then entering
a larger dwelling, supporting a' more extensive establishment, and in various expenses
evincing the advancement they have made.
This is common.   But meantime-even if
they account themselves Christians, and remember that they have an eternity as well
as a family to provide for- they have not
dreamed of exhibiting any proportionate advancement of character; it has not occurred
to them that their piety should have grown
with their estate; that their charities should
have been as much greater than formerly as
their income has become larger; that, as
they have been rising in the world, they
should have risen also toward heaven. In
the eye of the world, they are better dressed
and better lodged, and they move in a more
fashionable and intellectual circle; but in
the eye of God, in their preparation for
heaven, they are just where they were. They
have contrived to give the soul just food
enough to keep it of the same stature - not
considering that it was to grow as well as the
2
13 
PROGRESS OF THE
botly-  not  considering,  indeed, that  this
eager attention to worldly good, and rapid
growth in earthly prosperity, have very probably stunted the growth of their characters.
How salutary might it prove to every one
whom Providence has blessed with an increase of goods, if, at every enlargement of
his style of living, he should devote one day
to searching into his spiritual progress, and
resolve never to erect a new house, or intro
duce a higher indulgence to his domestic
economy, until he could honestly say, that
he was as much improved in character as in
fortune!
But, alas! this is far from being the way of
the world. They are satisfied to seem to
themselves no  worse than they were;- if
they deeply examined themselves, they might
discover that they are, in fact, much worse.
Amid this universal and earnest struggle
for the outside life, the inner life is neglected;
and very good men are entirely content to be
no better, who could ill brook to be no
richer.
Certainly this indicates a false idea of the
true object of life, and a very imperfect ac,
14 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
quaintance with that religion which they profess to have taken for their guide. I do not
treat the question in its reference to mere
men of the world. On their principles they
are right. With a worldly man, character is
of very little consequence. If he be not dishonest, so as to be in danger of the law,if he keep a decent reputation for fairnes
and the social virtues, so as not to hinder his
success by becoming obnoxious to others,what more can he need? His business is to
make his fortune and enjoy himself more and
more every year; and this he can do perfectly
well without being  a better man.   This,
therefore, need be no part of his concern.
But with those who profess to look beyond
the world, to whom the favor of God is of
some consequence, as well as the opinion of
men, and who soberly believe that virtue is
better than wealth, - with such as I am now
addressing, -it should be the chief concern.
Is it possible that they can have adopted
Christ as their Master, and taken his religion
as the great guide and blessing of their souls,
knowing themselves to be immortal, and yet
be satisfied to see their earthly condition pros
15 
PROGRESS OF THB
perous while there are no  signs of their
souls' prosperity?  Surely the last must be
their great anxiety and care, or they are
strangely false to their principles. There is
no incompatibility between the two; both
may advance together; but to strive only for
the earthly is treachery to their principles.
.,as! then, how  many  such traitors are
there!
But there is another class. All do not,
even in this prosperous community, succeed
in their anxious efforts to advance themselves
in the world.   Many  make no  progress.
They gain no wealth, they never enlarge their
means of living and enjoyment, they live on
as they began. Perhaps they are content
with their lot. Many, it is well known, are
perfectly so. They acquiesce in the allotment of Providence, and quietly sit down
where God has appointed them. But many
more have tried to rise, and in vain. Are
they satisfied then? Do they content themselves? Do they make no effort further?
Do they feel no regret, mortification, and
longing? Surely not so. Waking and dreaming, they are haunted by the restless desire
16 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
and the unquenched hope of reinstating their
fortunes. And yet, though they know that
their souls are equally far from prosperity,
and that they have made no improvement in
religious knowledge and virtue, it does not
make them uneasy; they are perfectly willing it should be so. They are quite content
to find themselves no better Christians; but
they cannot bear to find themselves no more
wealthy.
It was  a beautiful wish of the disciple
whom Jesus loved, when writing to a dear
friend, "that he might be in health and prosper even as his soul prospered..' I fear it
would be thought a strange wish now, even
amongst those who esteem themselves very
good disciples. They would not understand
how the prosperity of the soul is the first
thing. Many, it is to be feared, do not even
place it second. Business, money-getting, is
first; their family, second; religion is postponed to the third place, at least, and very
little honored in that, if we may judge by its
advancement in comparison with that of the
other two.
There are undoubtedly other classes to be
2*
17 
PROGRESS OF THE
found, besides those whom I have now named.
They need not be described. They leave
but a small number to be found scattered
among us, here and there, as we look around,
whose business, aim, object, is the growth of
their character, who live for the sake of the
soul, and who evidently, markedly, become
better men  as they advance  in life.  We
would not be cynical in our estimate, but
none can look around on society, Christian
society,- recollecting with what capacities
for goodness men have been endowed, and
what inducements to progress toward perfection are always before them, -without a
feeling of amazement, mortification, and
alarm, at observing how few are growing, or
striving to grow, in the virtues of the Christian life.  So rare are such  instances, that
they are looked on, and spoken of, as bright
exceptions; and a measure of goodness which
ought to be that of every man, nay, which all
acknowledge to be still far short of what the
Christian should be, is described, praised,
and held forth to imitation as something extraordinary -  as, indeed, beyond what men
in general  are expected  to attain.   "We
18 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
are not to expect to find others as good as
he."
This defective tone and condition of society
is unquestionably a great hinderance to those
who are young in religion. It presents to
them, on their first entrance to a new principle, instead of examples that stimulate to
effort and excellence, and raise still higher
their impressions of the purity and spirituality
of Christian attainment, specimens of lagging, sluggish, moderate virtue, which countenance them in the most indolent exertions
for improvement. As they look forward with
the glowing mind of youth and the first beatings of awakened  faith, the Christian life
looks to thenm not only all light and glorious,
but of a strict and holy austerity, and a scrupulous purity which has no part or lot with
the ordinary follies of humanity - elevated
above the world by a taste which has no
pleasure in its perishing pursuits, and a habit
of exalted contemplation which dwells amid
things unseen and eternal. They begin the
race, therefore, with feelings of high aspiration. They take their place among the disciples with a romantic and earnest expecta
19 
PROGRESS OF THE
tion of finding in those privileged persons
something, they know not what, of a celestial temper and beauty: they expect to be
incited, cheered, instructed, by the very contact, and to find in the atmosphere in which
they dwell the radiance and perfume of
heaven. And if they could find it so, they
would keep alive their own ardor, they would
persevere to realize their own exalted conceptions. But they find it otherwise. The
image which they had conceived in their own
minds of what the Christian man ought to bean image whose features were all drawn from
the life and teaching of the Great Masteris not at all realized in the world. Nobody
acts up to it. Nobody seems to have it in
mind. The common standard is wholly below
it; and these young beginners find themselves alone, with an idea and purpose of a
perfection which the more experienced smile
upon as the extravagant dream of youth, which
a few more days will show them to be impracticable in such a world as this. Thus the
actual state of religious feeling chills the
early blossoms of their religious characters
they find  that much  less than they had
20 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
imagined is thought sufficient by the older
and wiser disciples, who must know much
better than themselves; that it is by no means
requisite to follow Christ so nearly, or worship God so exclusively, as they had fancied;
they discover that, in fact, they have made as
great attainments already as the world would
bear; to proceed further would be only to
become singular: so they change their purpose, and remain where they are; unwilling
to be better than others; satisfied with a
measure which seems to satisfy others, and
glad to learn that the great work they had
undertaken is so early completed. And thus
each generation does its utmost to repress
the aspiration of the next, and to keep down
the standard of virtuous attainment.
So powerful is the example of the society
around us, and such the influence of prevailing notions to modify our own, that few have
courage or perseverance to follow the inward
suggestion which urges them to rise higher.
So that a distinguished minister gave it as
his earnest advice to a young friend, not to
allow himself to be ordained as pastor of any
church in which the standard of life was not
21 
PROGRESS OF THE
very strict and high; because, as he urged,
all experience shows how almnost impossible
it is for a young minister to escape conforming himself to the sentiment around him,
and being shaped more or less by the popular
mould. If it be thus to be apprehended in
the case of one all whose temporal interests
urge him, no less than his eternal, to rise to
the MARK, how much more must it be so
with ordinary men, who are less protected by
the circumstances of their position, and the
daily duties of their calling!
It is, therefore, evidently, one of the first
duties of the young Christian to settle it in
his mind that he has only commenced a work
which is to be going on as long as he shall
exist. Every thing in the example and experience of others around him proves how
necessary this is, for it proves how easily he
may be made to forget it.
There are also some mistaken notions respecting religion itself which may lead to the
same error; the idea, namely, which so readily
finds a welcome in the mind which is glowing with the first happiness of its early faith,
that its glow cannot fade away; that things
22 
CHRISTIAN   LIFE.
will always appear to the soul just as they do
at that divine moment; that the new taste
is fixed, and cannot be changed; that it will
take care of itself. Hazardous and unfounded
as such a feeling is, it is yet very natural.  It
belongs to all strong emotion to have faith in
its own perpetuity. The affections always
are confident that they never shall change;
and we always fancy that the grief, or love,
or indignation, which fills our bosoms now,
can never fade from them. When, therefore,
we are awake to the vivid consciousness of
our spiritual relations, and are overwhelmed'
with those various and mingling emotions
that take possession of the excited spirit, and
blend there in all that is awfill,tender, joyous,
and serene - when we are confident that
now, at last, we are tasting the highest gratifi
cation of which human nature is capable,
that now, at last, we are in the state in
which man ought to be, -a state in which
things appear as they are, in their true relations and proportions, and the common things
of the world take rank among the insignificant  and uninteresting, -we cannot  doubt
that these the truest, will be the lasting feelings; we cannot conceive it possible that
23 
PROGRESS OF TIE
any thing on earth should ever have charm
enough to entice from this state; that any of
the things which we now know to be inferior
should ever be able to withdraw us from what
we now know to be supreme. This is the
hearty, honest, deeply-seated conviction within
us. This is the conviction which occasions
the well-known confidence and presumption
of young converts, which prompts to their
proverbial forwardness - a confidence and
forwardness often attributed to unworthy motives, and spoken of to their discredit.  It
may not be creditable to them; yet it argues
nothing worse, perhaps, than self-ignorance.
They do not know the evanescent character
of the feelings, the deceitfulness of the heart;
therefore they give way to it; they trust
themselves; they spread all their sails to the
wind, as if it would never change; they fancy
themselves established, and act warmly and
boldly, as if established. But this glow is
necessarily transient, like all vehement feeling; and when it has passed away, they have
no abiding principle of life to take its place
and keep  the  work  in progress.   Other
feelings rise up in the midst of the world;
the brightness of the spiritual light fades from
24 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
before the eye of the soul, and there is no
advancement to a higher perfection.
Let no one, therefore, from the strength
and security of his first affections, allow himself to rest, as if the work were done. It is
but begun. Let him settle within himself,
deeply and sternly, the persuasion that it is
to be going on while life lasts. For want of
this it is that the love of so many has waxed
cold, and that so many who put their hand
to the plough have turned back. If you
would persevere, you must understand, at the
outset, the necessity of perseverance. You
must start with the conviction that you begin
a perpetual progress.
For which reason, instead of looking at
the state of society, instead of conforming
yourself to the model of those with whom
you live, study into ihe nature and capacity
of your soul, your destiny, and your responsibility; imbue your mind with the spirit of
your immortal faith, and the influence of
the character of your holy Master; and from
the promptings of a soul thus filled and
kindled, act out Christianity for yourself; -
not as others do, nor as others expect you
3
25 
PROGRESS OF THE
to do, but as this state of mind impels you.
There is no true and safe course but to be
obedient to these suggestions of a mind
which has faithfully studied for itself into the
doctrine and temper of the divine life. These
suggestions are to it as the instinct of its
immortal nature -as unerring, as safe, as the
instincts of the lower orders of beings. Man's
bodily instincts are as nothing, for his bodily
interests are of little moment, and in pursuing
them he has no need of an infallible guide.
But the interests of his undying soul are of
infinite consequence: in his search for them
he needs an infallible guide; and that guide
he has in the promptings of his own mind,
whenever he has cultivated it with the deep
study of truth and faith, and steeped it by
faithful contemplation in the secrets of divine
love and infinite purity, and brought it into
intimate communion with the Holy Spirit of
God. If you have truly acquainted yourself
with your Master and his revelation, - if you
have entered into their spirit with your whole
soul, - then act yourself, freely, boldly, and
you will not know what it is to stop short.
This very action will be progress.
26 
CHRISTIAN LIFE
CHAPTER II.
ERRORS NOTICED AND CORRECTED -  ESPE  CIALLY THE ERROR THAT THE CHRISTIAN
LIFE IS NOT TO BE TAKEN UP EXPRESSLY
- IS NOT TO HAVE A MARKED  COM  MENCEMENT.
BESIDES the causes of error which are
hinted at in the preceding chapter, there are
others still more worthy of consideration.
Of these I do not know that there is any
more common or more detrimental than that
which is the subject of this chapter. It is
an error which arises naturally from the circumstances of birth and education in a Christian land, and from the idea that under such
circumstances the Christian character grows
up of course, just as the social does, and perhaps as part of the social. It differs from
that before mentioned in this, that, while that
supposed the Christian character something
to be formed by a certain process in a certain
time,- to be done by the job and finished
27 
PROGRESS OF TIHE
at once,- this supposes that it is never any
thing to be taken up as a distinct subject of
attention, or to be made an express concern;
but is to be left to take care of itself, under
those influences to which all are subjected,
and beneath which it will grow up spontane
ously. This is a common error; it infects
the great mass of nominal Christians; it
deceives and paralyzes even conscientious
men, and keeps them from all progress by
persuading them that the soul will grow of
itself, as the body does.
This error is so widely connected with
misapprehensions respecting the origin and
nature of the religious life, that it cannot be
fully developed without a wide discussion.
But it is of less importance thoroughly to do
this, than to exhibit the error itself. It has
no doubt been fostered by the manner in
which the axiom has been received, that all
safe progress is gradual, that whatever is
violent and sudden is unnatural and unsafe
-an axiom true in itself, when rightly understood, but very falsely applied in the present instance. Is not the progress of the
day gradual, it is asked, and the progress
28 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
of the seasons imperceptible? Does not the
seed germinate and spring forth without our
being able to detect or trace it; growing
night and day, we know not how; first the
blade, then the ear, and then the full corn in
the ear? Are not all the beneficent operat:ons of Providence and nature thus?never rapid, vehement, instantaneous, but
always gentle, quiet, gradual?   And, satisfied with this analogy, we sit down to wait
the advancement of our character, just as we
wait the progress of the season; as if we had
only to sit and wait; to do nothing to hasten
or retard it; as if its course was onward as
inevitably as fate. We do not perceive that
we advance; but no matter: who sees the
sun advance on the dial-plate? We have no
consciousness of being in motion; but, then,
who sees the motion of the planets, or the
increase of the blade of corn? We are
making no efforts: certainly not; for a growth,
to be healthy, must not be forced. Who
would have the sickly and short-lived prod.
uce of the hotbed?
But even if we chose to follow strictly the
analogy between the insensible universe and
3*
29 
PROGRESS OF THE
the living moral soul, this mode of reasoning
is unjustifiable. If we do not see the day
come forward with our eyes, we perceive
clearly, after an interval, that it has come
forward; and though our keenest sight does
not detect the growth of the plant, we yet do
see that it has grown; and we should be extremely unhappy if the opening dawn should
become stationary, or the grain and fruit
should pause in the process of ripening.
But those of whom I speak feel no uneasiness
at the perception that their characters have
become stationary; they are not troubled
when, at the greatest intervals, they still find
that they have gained nothing. All is made
quiet in their conscience at once by the sovereign pacifier, "0, we  are not to expect
great results: improvement must be gradual;
the more gradual, the more sure."
Has not this lamentable result been encouraged in many minds by the expression
of a very eminent writer of great influence?
-" that our Christian congregations contain
two classes: to the one must be preached
conversion, to the other improvement "- an
altogether just remark, which commends itself
30 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
at once to every man's approbation. But
how easily misapplied! Every one, on hearing it, bethinks himself, of which class is he?
"I do not need conversion; I have been religiously educated; always attended church,
always read my Bible, always accounted myself a Christian; I only need improvement.
My case, then, is safe; I am on the right
side, and of course it will be for my interest
to improve; in fact, considering the advantages amidst which I live, I cannot fail to
improve:'tis not in the nature of man to
live under such excellent preaching and with
such facilities for reading and worship, and
yet not improve." Thus perfectly satisfied
with his situation and with himself, he folds
his arms and does nothing. The current
floats him along, and he does not dream that
it can be to any other than the true haven.
If I should address such persons, I would
ask them if they do not presume too much,
when they thus take it for granted that they
do not need conversion. Does it by any
means follow, because they have been edu.
cated under Christian institutions, that they
have availed themselves of them, and become
31 
PROGRESS OF THE
Christians? Because they have been taught
to read the Bible from their childhood, does
it follow that the spirit of that holy book has
formed their characters? Certainly this cannot be pretended.  One may be brought up
in the very recesses of the sanctuary, and yet
be as corrupt as an abandoned heathen; may
believe that Christianity is from heaven, as
the Hindoo believes that his ancestral faith
is divine, and be:n heart addicted to all that
is unchristian. History and observation tell
of but too many who have contended for the
faith, and yet who had checked no desire,
controlled no passion, at its bidding. It is
not, therefore, impossible that many decent
men may have been brought up amongst us
to honor Christianity, who yet are far from
being imbued with its spirit; that many may
have a respect for its precepts and a jealous
attachment to its forms, and yet be governed
at heart by principles which it would disapprove. Doubtless there are many such: they
are willing to count themselves its friends;
they are proud to number themselves among
its supporters;  and, being thus Christians
by birth, claim the right to be esteemed
32 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
Christians indeed. But in order to be Christians indeed, they must be religious men;
and religious men they are not: they need
to be converted to the influence of the faith
they honor; from the worldliness which governs them, to the personal experience of the
power of the truth, which as yet is a dead
letter to them. They think they need only
to go on:  alas! they have not yet begun.
They have the very first step to take. They
have the commencement to make.
Is it not to be feared that many are living
and dying amongst us in this very condition?
Is there not a quieting and deceptive influence
in much of what passes for religious sentiment amongst us, producing the feeling that
we have all begun - we have all entered the
path of life - we have only to go on? But it
is not true that all have begun. How, then,
can it be otherwise than dangerous to entreat
all to go on? How can they advance if they
have not commenced? There can be no
true and satisfactory progress unless we are
sure that we have made a beginning, and a
right beginning.
Now, the great error is, that men are con
:..*: —
33 
PROGRESS OF THE
tent without any proof that they have made
a beginning. They are willing to assume
this important and all-essential fact as a thing
of course.
They were born in a Christian land; they
believe Christianity divine; they are pretty
good men; they trust, through God's mercy,
they shall be saved. But this does not prove
that they have in any proper sense com       menced the Christian life. What are their
ruling principles?  On what rest their affee       tions? Where are their motives, desires, and
to what are their self-sacrifices offered? Get
an honest reply to these questions, and you
find that the world still rules them.  A  faith
in things spiritual, and a supreme surrender
to God, they as yet'know not.   They  have a
beginning yet to make.
I hold it to be clear that no man can have
done so important a thing as to resolutely
take up the Christian law for his guide,
without a consciousness afterwards that he
has at some time distinctly done so. It is a
very momentous act in a man's life when he
assumes the obligations and responsibilities
of the word of Christ, and says, "For this
.
34 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
Master I live and die." Ile must know that
he has done it. It is not a thing to be~taken
for granted -to be supposed. The bearings of this faith on his daily life in a thousand ways - its applications to his temper,
his thoughts, his will, his habits of living and
speech- are too direct and palpable to leave
any  doubt on  the subject.  The  struggle
between this spirit of allegiance to conscience
and faith, and the fleshly appetites and worldly
principles; the trials, and falls, and recoveries, and' shame, and joy, and all the various tumults of mind and heart, which the
Christian pilgrimage implies, are all too distinct, too deeply felt, too strongly marked,
to be forgotten, or to allow room for conjecture, supposition, or any testimony but the
heart's own consciousness. Many, very many,
have been so situated in early life, and have
been so formed by influences exclusively of
the world, that they can at no time come to
a Christian life without most conspicuous
and absolute change- a disruption of former
ties, a more or less painful abandonment of
former habits, a strange and entire alteration
of the favorite and ruling desires. Educated
85 
PROGRESS OF THE
as most persons are, it is impossible that they
should otherwise arrive at the Christian life;
and this change is an era-to be remembered.
It leaves deep marks on the history. And
as for others, who have been favored with a
more propitious lot, and whose minds have
received the sanctifying influence of truth
from the cradle, drinking in divine knowledge with their daily discipline, and imbued
with the temper of Heaven through the power
of the society and teaching of their early
guides, - they, too, cannot have confirmed
their early impressions excepting through
efforts and struggles; they must evidently
know; it cannot be left to them to take for
granted.  They may have the most infallible
proof that they have actually made a beginning.
But as for the great class of those who
can produce neither of these proofs, how can
they proceed?   They  are  grossly self-deceived. Their trust and hope are altogether
without foundation.
No wonder that they are content without
progress. After assuming, without evidence,
that they are Christians, it is a small thing to
36 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
add the assumption that they move while they
stand still.
Here, therefore, I propose to my readers,
that they institute a solemn and thorough
self-examination. Let each inquire and know
whether he is one of this very extensive class,
who thus easily imagine themselves to be
something when they are nothing. If he has
never yet doubted on the subject, nor rigorously inquired, he has reason for apprehension. Let him dwell no longer in uncertainty, or content himself with conjecture.
Let him ascertain whether he has actually
made a religious beginning. If not, let him
waste no time in studying how to make advancenment.  He has an earlier and more important work -to remove away all the heavy
rubbish which, through his self-deception and
long blindness, has been accumulating about
him, and lay in earnest the foundation of a
hearty faith, and a holy, heavenly character.
If he is not sure that he has already begun
the Christian life, let him begin now, to-day,
with a prayerful deternination, with a devoted purpose, with a heartfelt self-consecration to God, and Christ, and duty. Let him
4
37 
PROGRESS OF THE
leave this great matter no longer in suspense,
this most momentous question no longer open,
but let him bring his real character and his
hidden motives into the light - the clear
light of truth - by taking devoutly and resolutely the first grand step, by performing the
initiatory act of intelligently, distinctly, and
with a single heart, dedicating himself to
the service of his heavenly Master.
38 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
CHAPTER III.
ERRORS NOTICED AND CORRECTED - ESPE  CIALLY THE ERROR OF THOSE WHO FANCY
THAT THE CHRISTIAN LIFE MAY BE SUS  TAINED WITHOUT THE USE OF MEANS.
I HAVE endeavored to expose the mistake
of those who dream that the religious life
has no beginning.   I now turn to those who
fancy that it may be sustained and supported
without the use of means.
In stating their error thus, there is absurdity on its very face, so great that it may be
supposed impossible for any one to maintain
such a position. And perhaps to the fill
extent none will venture to maintain it in
terms, though we certainly hear language
which very nearly approaches the statement
I have made, and daily witness conduct which
is consistent with no other principle than
that which such a statement involves. In
fact, it is the tendency of the speculations
and the practice of the day to make light of
39 
PROGRESS OF THE
forms, to undervalue modes of operation, to
speak of times, persons, places, ceremonies,
as unessential, material, instrumental, - as
crutches for the lame, leading-strings for the
weak, guides for babes,- quite necessary to
those who are so far wedded to the body that
it clogs and impedes their minds, but wholly
unnecessary to the soul itself; in fact, as
badges of an inferior condition, as marks of
spiritual backwardness, as the remnants of
an earthly dispensation, and relics of the
infancy of our race, which are fast becoming unnecessary in this enlightened age, and
which the truly enlightened had best dispense with at once.
There is a good deal of loose thinking and
talking of this sort. It is founded on a misapprehension of the real nature of the advancement of man in the present world; as
if cultivation and religion were making an
actual change, not in his condition and advantages, but his very nature; relieving him
of his dependence on the body, the senses,
and the material world. Whereas, evidently,
he must retain still his connection with them,
his relation to them, and must be affected by
40 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
them in his desires, appetites, habits, enjoyments, character - must act through them,
and be acted on by them; and so long as
this is so, it is perfectly impossible that he
should be able to maintain a purely spiritual
existence, or to advance his spiritual character, without aid from abroad.   While this
connection with the outward world perpetually operates on him to affect his temper
,nd distract his affections, it is necessary to
Counteract it by agents and contrivances
which also operate outwardly. While, every
day, appetite must be indulged at stated hours,
business done, and exciting thoughts, interests, and passions absorb his mind, he
must every day have stated means of neutralizing their engrossing and infecting power,
or they will obtain the mastery.
How it may be when the soul shall be separated from its present connection with the
body, we do not know. Perhaps then it may
go on a course of holy progress without
external aid, or stated help; though the Scriptures give no representations which warrant
us to decide peremptorily that it is so.  Certainly it is not so now; and they who fancy
4*
41 
PROGRESS OF THE
it to be so, are taking the sure method to
dwarf their own stature and chill their devout
affections.
There is, undoubtedly, a distinction to be
made between religion and the means of religion - a distinction, the want of attention to
which has led to great abuses, and been the
parent of fanaticism and superstition. Forms
and ceremonies have been exaggerated into
the essentials of faith; opinions have been
made to take the place of character, and days
and observances have usurped  the respect
which should have been paid to righteous
ness and true piety.  In order to avoid this
error of times past, it has become a favorite
notion with many, that religion only, should
have attention and honor- pure, unmixed,
unaccompanied religion. They are to become religious; that is the great end; they
are to form perfect characters. Religion does
not consist in saying one's prayers, attending
church, observing the Sabbath, sitting at the
Lord's table, reading the Bible: these things
are not religion. One may do all these, and
yet not be religious -men have done all,
scrupulously, and yet been reprobates. These
42 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
are but the means; and if one be but a religious man at heart, it is of no consequence
whether he scrupulously observe these means
or not. Indeed, he had best avoid any approach to a superstitious regard for them; it
would belittle him; it is best to have a great
deal of freedom. One shou.d not be a slave
to certain hours; he can pray at any time;
a prayer is just as acceptable at the workbench, and in the street, as at the altar; and
every day ought to be a Sabbath; one day has
no more real sacredness than another. There
is great danger of mistaking the means for
the end; we will pursue the end only.
Common as something like this may be in
the thoughts of many and the practice of
more, it is yet wholly indefensible as a matter of reasoning, and utterly ruinious when
applied to practice. Here and there a man
may be found who can live on these principles uninjured; but they are extraordinary
men; the great majority would infallibly be
destroyed by them.
They lead to a disregard of religious services, which will extend, in too many instances, to a disregard of religion itself and will
43 
PROGRESS OF THE
often inevitably cause the Christian character
to fall into decay, because the props which
are necessary to support it are removed. So
serious an evil deserves to be carefully considered. There can be little hope of general
advancement or great attainment in religion,
when such opinions are prevalent.
Let it be considered, therefore, that although, abstractly and strictly speaking, there
may be an essential distinction between an
end to be gained and the means by which it
is to be gained, for all practical purposes
there is no difference whatever. If the result
be desirable, and can be attained only through
a certain process, that process is of precisely
the same consequence as the result. If the
affair be one of duty and obligation, the obligation to perform the process is as absolutely 
binding as the obligation to effect the result.
If I desire to hold an eminent rank in society,
if I wish to be a promoter of human good in
an important profession, it is just as important
that I should pass through the discipline of
that preparatory education which fits for the
profession, as it is that I should enter on that
profession. My usefulness and eminence de
44 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
pend equally upon both. It is not enough,
in order to the arrival of a steamship at a
distant city, that the crew be at their posts,
the engineer at his wheel, and the machinery
all in beautiful order; the boiler must be
filled and the fire kindled; and he would be
a stupid commander who should slight these
because they are only means-who should
say that his object was to arrive at the city,
and he was not to be busying himself about
these little preliminaries to progress. Yet it
would be hard to understand how there is any
less stupidity in those who fancy themselves
able to arrive at heaven, while they slight the
appointed means of proceeding thither as
wholly secondary affairs.  I ask, "Are you a
student of the Scriptures? Do you daily and
statedly pray? Are you fond of frequenting
occasions of religious worship? " Your answer is, "0, no! religion does not consist in
these things. I am only careful about the
great end; that is all which I need to regard."
That is to say, so long as you are resolved to
arrive safely at the end of your journey, it is
of no consequence whether the water, and
the wood, and the fire, be applied to the
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boiler or not!  "But," I add, "one would
imagine that your own feelings would prompt
you to join in these religious observances
and acts -that your own religious state of
mind and heart would lead you to take pleasure in them."  "Why, yes, sometimes, now
and then; and then it is well enough to attend and use them. But unless one happens
to be disposed to engage in them, it is not
worth while to do so. It is only the great
end which I am  anxious about."   "And
thus," I reply, "caring only for the accomplishment of your voyage, you have no rule
but your inclinations to decide when you
shall feed the fire which is to carry you on."
One would be glad to ask of the great men
who have blessed the world with their light
and action in any department of usefulness
especially one would like to ask of the apostles and reformers - how this doctrine would
have operated in their case, and where the
world would have been if they had been beguiled by it - if Paul, instead of his journeyings and toils that he might preach the
gospel, and establish and organize churches,
and so save men's souls and extend the king.
46 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
dom of Christ in the world, had thought within
himself, "Preaching, and worship, and the
Christian conmmunity, are only the means of
salvation; they are but secondary things in
comparison with salvation: salvation, salvation, that is the great, prime, all-absorbing
consideration; and why should I be wearing
out my life on the mere means? "- or if
Luther and the other men that have moved
the world with their doctrine had sat silent
on the happy suggestion that preaching  is
not religion - RELIGION is the great thing to
be regarded? And yet, where is the man
who can show that it would have been more
absurd in them thus to have forsaken the
preaching of the gospel, and the gathering of
assemblies, than it is in any private man to
forsake the hearing of the word on the same
pretence?
And yet there are men who practise and
defend this unspeakable absurdity! They
think themselves good Christians, and yet
waste the hours of the Sabbath, are slack in
their attendance on public worship, almost
strangers to the Bible, without worship in
their families, and without stated prayer in
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PROGRESS OF THE
their closets; and, if you expostulate with
them, very soberly reply, that these things do
not constitute religion; they care only for religion itself. And thus there is not one of the
means appointed for and essential to religious
establishment and growth which is not put
by on this plea.
It is evident enough, I think, that these
means, if not parts of religion, are yet essential to it.  But I go still farther.  I ask if it
be so unquestionable, as appears to be taken
for granted, that they are not parts of religion.
Is it so clear that the reading of the Scriptures, acts of devotion, and attendance on
the ordinances, are not essentially, and in
their own nature, parts of religion as well as
means? Let us look at this. What is reli gion? Strictly speaking, it is something in visible, intangible, immaterial —which  has
no shape, and is not cognizable by any hu man sense. Practically speaking, it is a cer tain character- that state of mind, heart,
and character, which become the relation in
which a man stands to God. Now, I ask,
what is that state of mind, heart, or character,
without the expression of it? Is not the ex
48 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
pression of it, properly speaking, a part of it?
Can we say that there is character where
there is no manifestation of it? If we were
consulting philosophical exactness of terms
perhaps this might be disputed; but so far as
regards real life and the common judgment
of men, it is doubtless correct. We kniow
nothing of real benevolence of heart, if in
no way manifested - nothing of uprightness
and strength of character -nothing of intellectual power - except so far as expressed;
and this expression is always regarded as part
of the character itself; it is the character
acting.
Now, religion is a certain state of mind,
heart, and character; but if there be no manifestation of this state in action, neither the
individual himself nior other men could be
assured of its existence and reality. But what
are the expressions, what the manifestations,
of religion? The most natural, perhaps the
most spontaneous, the most indubitable, is
prayer. It is the expression of the religious
heart to its God. It is the language of the
devout mind. It is the action of the pious
spirit. I cannot conceive, therefore, that any
5
49 
PROGRESS OF THE
one should esteem prayer simply a means of
religion. It is a part of religion. It is an
inalienable concomitant. And it is represented, throughout the Scriptures, more frequently as an essential act of religion,inseparable from and inherent in a devout
character, - than as a means of increasing
the devotional temper, or of spiritual irnprovement.
The same is true concerning the Christian ordinances. To express faith and newness of spirit by baptism, and to commune
with the Savior at his table, are in themselves religious actions. To read the Scriptures, and devoutly meditate on the truth of
God, and worship in his house, and listen to
the preaching of his word, are religious acts,
expressions of a religious character, no less
than means of increasing in Christian knowledge and holiness.
It is, therefore, far from true that, in neglecting religious observances, we merely postpone the means to the end. They constitute,
in their very nature, parts of that which we
seek to achieve. They are natural expressions, manifestations, of the religious charac
50 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
ter; and one can hardly be authorized in
imagining himself to possess that character,
if it do not thus display itself.
If it be still said that one may make his
selection from these means, and use those
which best suit his own case and satisfy his
own want, it may be replied, Undoubtedly
hlie may find greater edification in some than
in others, and to such he may with peculiar
interest apply.   But he can hardly think himself at liberty to slight any, so long as all
have been appointed by God, and are regarded
as part of man's service to him; so long,
too, as each of them is only another mode of
giving expression to that spirit which he professes to desire to cultivate, and which he
ought to find pleasure in expressing.
If these things be so, every man's duty becomes plain, and he can live in neglect of it
only at the hazard of a great absurdity, which
casts his soul into fearful peril.
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PROGRESS OF THE
CHAPTER IV.
THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN PUT ON IIS GUARD
AGAINST THE HINDERANCE TO PROGRESS
WHICH ARISES FROM DISAPPOINTMENT RE  SPECTING THE ENJOYMENT OF A RELIGIOUS
LIFE.
AMONG the hinderances against which the
young Christian may need to be put on his
guard, we may mention, next, that arising
from false expectations respecting the enjoyment of a religious life. The opening views
of a religious existence are like those of
youth, bright with vague anticipations of the
future, full of gay dreams, romantic and visionary expectations. It is the youth of the
soul, excited, ardent, confident, and painting
the future in colors too uniformly gorgeous to
be true. Not that any extravagance of expectation can exceed the actual happiness
which the Christian realizes in his established faith. Young Christians do not, for
they cannot, expect too much; but they ex
52 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
pect - as the Scripture says "they ask
amiss." They err as to the nature more than
as to the degree of enjoyment. They look for
it in excitement, in strong emotion, in ecstasy,
in rapture. They expect to be forever in the
same glowing frame of bliss in which they
are now, while the subject is all new and their
feelings all fresh. The scales have just fallen
from their eyes, the light has broken in upon
their souls for the first time, and the scene
that bursts upon their view is that of Elysium.
They have no idea that familiarity can ever
render it less beautiful, or dull in any degree
the emotion with which they gaze upon it.
But it is a universal and inexorable law of
nature, that familiarity tames the passionateness with which any object is regarded. The
excitement of feeling goes down. The exaltation and frenzy of the mind subside.
The pleasure may continue, but the rapture
ceases.
He, therefore, who proceeds to cultivate
his religious nature under the expectation
that it is to yield him a perpetual, sensible
joy, is sure to be disappointed. It is not the
nature of the mind to be capable of perpet              5*
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PROGRESS OF THE
ual, unintermitted joy. In all cases in which
the mind is wrought up to a high pitch of
excitement, one of two consequences always
results-  either it becomes weary, and the interest of the subject is worn out by the intenseness of the action, - and this often
happens in religion, where a most passionate
devotion for a season ends in coldness, indifference, and worldliness, - or else, the excitement being modified and controlled by reason
and principle, the mind settles down into a
quiet, steadfast, gentle, and equable condition, without ecstasy, but full of content.
And this, too, is what we see in daily examples of the judicious and confirmed believers.
Many are made greatly unhappy, and fall
into grievous despondency, for want of duly
considering this.   They  find  erelong that
their frame of mind sinks.  Not only have
they no rapture, but they perceive with horror
that occasionally even a lethargy of feeling
comes over them, as if they had fairly exhausted the excitability of their mind. They
read and pray with a calmness which frightens them -a calmness they in vain try to
agitate; and whereas they were shortly before
54 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
lifted to the third heavens with delight, they
now stand unmoved, as if the very pulse of
celestial life had stopped. The contrast appals them. They fancy themselves deserted
of God and all goodness. They feel themselves abandoned and lost, and are ready to
sink in consternation and despair. They had
imagined, in their hours of exalted musing,
that the love of the world was subdued; that
the power of its fascination was gone; that
its follies and lusts, its pride and pleasures,
having been seen once in their true light,
could never have charms for them again; and
that the sinful feelings they had formerly excited could not be excited by them again.
But, as they again move about in the actual
scenes of the world, they find it far otherwise. The desires and appetites which they
supposed to be dead, were only sleeping, and
they suddenly wake. The passions and selfishness which they supposed subdued spring
up vigorously, and would break their chains,
and clamor for indulgence, as before, and,
perhaps, in some unguarded moment, seize
on their gratification. All this astonishes
and alarms them. They were not prepared
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PROGRESS OF THE
for it. It is wholly unexpected. They find
themselves deceived. They know not how to
meet it. They are miserable. Their life is
wholly a different one from that which they
proposed to themselves   a life of watching,
self-denial, and anxiety, when they had been
looking for nothing but peace and joy.  They
are disheartened, and perhaps abandon the
path which promised them pleasantness and
peace, but has yielded them weariness and
pain.
It becomes important, therefore, that the
beginner should understand the nature both
of Christian duty and of Christian happiness,
that he may count the cost before he begins,
and not fail through false and unreasonable
expectations.
Let him consider, then, that Christian duty
is conformity to a law, and Christian happiness the result of that conformity. This law
governs the affections, as well as the conduct;
determines the whole state of mind and feeling, as well as of life; and it is only when
mind and feeling are conformed to this law
that the man is in the way of Christian duty,
-only then, therefore, that he is to expect
56 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
happiness. And what happiness? That which
belongs to the consciousness of having done
duty; that which grows out of and appertains
to the state of mind which  is attained;and that will be, of course, satisfaction, contentment, rather than ecstasy.   The  consciousness of being right, the assurance of
the favor of God, -these, being abiding and
habitual impressions on the mind, are likely
to produce a calm peace, rather than a tumultuous delight.
Then it is to be considered, further, that
religion operates on the human mind upon
similar principles with other subjects, and follows the laws and constitution of human nature. If, then, in respect to the question before us, the analogy of the other affections
shows the same result, we ought to be satisfied. And undoubtedly it is so. The religious affections are kindred to all the affections. That love which is the essence of
religion is the same love which exhibits itself
in the various relations of man, and is the
source of the purest and strongest joys of
earth, as it is to be of those of heaven. How
intense and fervent the love of a mother for
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PROGRESS OF THE
her child!   What sacrifices will she mnake
for it, what toils endure, and how readily
does her heart flutter and her eye overflow!
Yet there are times when that strong affection seems dead in her bosom, and we have
often heard her say that it seemed to her as
if she had no feeling, as if she were an innatural creature, from whom all natural
affection had departed. Yet, meantime, unexcited as she is, she goes resolutely on,
discharging her maternal duties, till some occasion calls forth again the floods of tenderness. She did not blame herself-we did
not blame her- for that habitual tranquillity
of feeling, for that temporary  coldness;far from it. The cares of a large family
never could go on, if the parent were agitated
always with the intense feeling toward all the
children which is the real measure of her love
for each; and we know that she gives as genuine proof of her affection where the work
she does for them takes her thoughts away
from them, when she forgets them for a season, because she is so busy for their good, as
when she overwhelms them with caresses and
tears.
58 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
So, too, the father of the household. lHe
leaves them in the morning, is absorbed with
the toilsome cares of his business, and may
not be distinctly conscious of a thought or
emotion going back to them during the day.
Is it proved, then, that he does not love
them? Time was, when the image of her
who is now the mother of his children haunted him like a dream, mingled with all his
thoughts, could not be, would not be, banished from his mind: it was like a light about
him wherever hlie went, and a bliss in his
thoughts however he was employed; and thus
his love was one perpetual living rapture.
Because it is so no longer, does he therefore
love her the less? Nay, he loves her the
more,- with a sober, steadfast, habitual confidence and affection, which has lost its passion, but has become an essential portion of
his being, - intrudes on him less, but in its
calmness and quietness blesses him more. It
is only the idle dream of romance which expects the rapture of the lover to be perpetuated in the sober certainty of waking bliss
which makes the happiness of home. And
so of all the affections. The religious affec
59 
PROGRESS OF THE
tions go by the same law. When newly
awakened and fixed on the great realities of
God and eternity, they engross, and agitate,
and absorb the soul; there is no room for
any other thought, affection, or care; these
fill and consume the whole being. But byand-by the heart settles into a state of tranquillity; and the man, occupied in obedience
and duty, is excited less, and walks with his
faith as an old and familiar friend.
Let it, then, be no discouragement to the
religious aspirant, that familiarity with his
new life has abstracted something from the
keen relish it had at first. Let him learn to
find an equal satisfaction in the moderate and
unexciting life of tranquil duty, that he at
first found in the strong emotions of the mind.
Acceptance with God depends on the heart
being right with him;  and as you do not
judge of the rightness of your child's affectionI toward yourself and the other children
by its vehemence of expression, by its being
easily called out ill tears and vented in outcries, but rather by its steady and unobtrusive
watchfulness for your wishes, and carefulness
not to offend, and fidelity, and kindness,
60 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
so believe that the great Father judges of
you, and approves you none the less because
the strength of emotion with which you first
came to him has subsided into an equable
confidence and uniform obedience.
And here I cannot refrain from saying a
few words in relation to another source of
discouragement, which often operates in connection with that, to the consideration of
which this chapter is especially devoted.
The Christian is very frequently disheartened,       not only at finding less excitement and
rapturous enjoyment in the religious life than
he expected, but also at not discovering such
obvious marks of progress in the advancing
stages        as at the commencement.   But it is a
very important truth for him who is going
forward in the Christian life to remember,
that the growth of character follows, in many
respects, the analogy of all other growth. In
its beginnings it is more perceptible; its progress       in its first stages is more striking: an
extraordinary difference is in a very short time
noticed, after a man has positively changed
from worldliness to religion. But the succeeding steps become by-and-by less percep
6
61 
PROGRESS OF THE
tible; and though actual, perhaps equal prog.
ress may be made in a more advanced state
of the Christian course, yet the work may
seem to be almost stationary. An illustration
of this may be found in the different appearances of motion in the rising and the meridian sun; the former seeming to advance
with rapidity, the latter hardly to move. Or
take, for comparison, a work of art, a painting. The artist takes a blank and unmeaning
canvass. He sketches the outlines of his
beautiful subject. A very short time suffices
to exhibit great progress. The whole form
and features come rapidly into view. But, as
he approaches towards the finishing of his
work, he labors the more delicate parts -he
retouches, refines, perfects; but it all makes
little show: in truth, there may be more and
more careful study, and anxious toil, and the
highest efforts of his genius, and yet the
amount of labor and thought, and the degree
of improvement, be perceptible to none but
a most observing and practised eye. So it is
with the Christian character the nearer it
approaches to perfection: there may be great
watchfulness, laborious self-discipline, toil for
62 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
advancement, and a perpetual addition of
those delicate strokes, those hues and shades
of spiritual beauty, by which perfection is attained; but no change shows itself, meanwhile, to the common observer; the Christian seems to others precisely where he was a
month ago, and he himself may be dissatisfied
at not perceiving any obvious marks of growth
corresponding with his arduous labors.
Let the Christian, then, not be deceived.
Let him be sure that he judges himself by a
right standard. It is true that he ought not
to be too easily satisfied of his improvement;
but neither ought he to be discouraged through
an irrational regard and judgment of his
moral condition. When the oak was just
springing from the ground, and rearing its
stem in the increase of its first tender season,
its growth of but twelve inches above the
soil, whereon nothing but decayed leaves was
manifest before, appeared conspicuous and
considerable; but now that it has waved its
branches in the sunshine and winds of threescore summers, and sheltered two generations of men with its beneficent shadow, and
nurtured innumerable tribes of living crea
63 
PROGRESS OF THE
tures in its kindly arms, it may add the same
measure of increase in a year to each of its
hundred gigantic limbs, with no perceptible
enlargement; its real growth has been a hundred-fold what it was when most conspicuous
to men, but no one observes or appreciates it.
So it is with the Christian character: the
more advanced its stages, the nearer it attains
to perfection, its actual iminprovemenrt, though
greater than in the beginning, may nevertheless be less perceptible.
In view of the discouragements alluded to
in this chapter, and of all others that might
be enumerated, I would say to him who has
really entered on a religious life, "You have
taken the only rational course, the only safe
course, the only truly happy course: persevere unto the end; run with patience the
race that is set before you; fight the good
fight, keep the faith, lay hold on eternal life.
Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness
for the upright in heart."
64 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
CHAPTER V.
CONSIDERATIONS DESIGNED  TO ASSIST THR
CHRISTIAN IN THE SUCCESSFUL  USE OF
THE MEANS AND METHODS OF RELIGIOUS
PROGRESS.
IN order to the successful use of the means
of religious progress, so that they shall truly
operate to a religious growth, it is essential
so to employ them as to create an equal,
healthy development of the character in all
its parts, so as to avoid the inconsistency and
distortion which are the consequence of too
exclusive devotion to some, and the comparative neglect of others. A perfectly well proportioned religious character is rarely to be
found; but for that very reason it should be
the more anxiously desired.
Character is constituted of the state of
the mind and affections, and the habits of
life. These ought all to be in harmony with
each other, - directed by the same principles, exhibiting the same features, wearing
6*
65 
PROGRESS OF THE
the same complexion. If tley disagree, there
is a painful discordance perceived; something is wrong; there is neglect of duty,
blame somewhere.
Now, the means of cultivating and perfecting the right state of mind and affections are,
primarily, meditation and prayer, and those
mental exercises of contemplation, self-examination and study, by which the soul is directly wrought upon and raised to a spiritual
fervor. Thus it approaches to God, cherishes
holy and benevolent desires, and comes to
love and enjoy the things that are unseen and
eternal. And when, from the seasons of
contemplation and thought, the man goes into
the scenes of active life, he carries with him
this propensity to goodness, these desires to
do well. lie goes with a mind imbued with
the sentiment of devotion, and the spirit of
dutifulness.
Thus far, well. But the character is not
yet complete: the habits of his active life
make part of it. And what are they? Do
they correspond with this internal frame?
Are they in harmony with these principles
and sentiments?
66 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
We are ready at first to ask, " How can they
be otherwise? " But we are soon reminded
that it is often even so. It is common to
witness lamentable  inconsistencies between
the feelings and the conduct. Some men
appear to live two lives. They seem to have
two souls. In private thought and in familiar
converse they are devout men. Their sensibilities are quick; their emotions are strong;
their sense of God lively; and they greatly
enjoy their seasons of devotion and reading.
But in the routine of life they are worldly,
grasping, self-indulgent, devoted to gain, neglectful of trusts and duties, and far inferior
to many who have no religious sensibility,
who find little enjoyment in retirement and
reflection, but who have accustomed themselves to the most scrupulous fidelity in every
passing hour of social life.
It is to be with you, therefore, a matter
of study and effort to carry the sentiment of
the closet into action. The life of contemplation must not contradict the life of action.
It is but partially that character is formed
which is formed only by thinking, musing,
and purposing. It wants the completeness of
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PROGRESS OF THE
active hal)its. It wants the test which is to
be found only in life. It wants the principle
of growth which can be found only in action.
And this is what is particularly to be considered in this connection - action is an
essential and all-important means of religious
growth; so much so, that even the contemplative graces, the virtues of the mind, true
affection, exalted principle, benevolent dispositions, - which we are ready to believe thrive
best in solitude; to cultivate which, multitudes have shut themselves out from the world,
that they mnight have nothing to do but to
meditate, read, and pray, - even these fail of
their true perfection unless quickened and
ripened by action. For consider a moment.
When the mind is thus excited and glowing
with divine truth and virtuous thoughts, is
it not all so much impulse to do something 7
Does not the desire spring up spontaneously,
prompting to act, -that is, to express itself?
But there is no opportunity to act, and the
impulse is denied. It is excited again, and
again denied. What is the consequence?
It is enfeebled. It becomes less and less
strong. It fades and dies from the soul.
68 
CIRISTIAN LIFE.
Generous impulses, not acted upon, perish;
the soul loses its sensibility, becomes callous
It has long been a familiar accusation against
a certain sort of sentimental reading, that it
tends to consume and waste the sympathies,
and paralyze the affections, by highly exciting them, but allows them not expression in
action, awakening the impulse, but refusing
to gratify it. It is equally the case with all
religious affections. And it is easy to understand how they who trust to them as if sufficient, and take no pains to carry them out in
act, may come to exhibit two distinct characters -elevated thought and glowing feeling,
but selfish indolence of life and cold inactivity.
Consider, therefore, that action is an essential means of religious growth. Follow out
the highest impulses of your mind. Obey
the suggestions of your conscience. Never
deny the religious promptings of your feelings. Then you will establish the dominion
of principle, the supremacy of conscience.
Then all good feelings, having received their
natural and intended gratification, will be
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PROGRESS OF THE
encouraged and strengthened, because they
have had their legitimate exercise.
Remarks to the same purpose may be made
respecting the relation which subsists between principle and habit. Habit is a thing
of tremendous power: it is sometimes omnipotent in man; and it is of the greatest
consequence that its energies be as much as
possible, and as easily as possible, secured
on the side of virtue. It may be the greatest
helper or the greatest hinderance to improvement. It was intended to be the former;
and yet to how many, through life, does it
prove the latter!  In how many men  does
virtue make toilsome growth, because clogged,
thwarted, depressed, by unfortunate habits!
-habits formed in early life, estil)lisihed in
the flcsh, rooted in the affections, woven into
the daily routine of conduct, till they become
a part of the very nature; and the poor wretch
whom they enritlirl is bound down to a miserable iniisigiiificance of character, and yet is
wholly unawatre of their deleterious predom-.
inance.  They are habits, for example, of lux.
urious livirng, of perpetual personal  indul
70 
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
gence, of slothfulness, of mental inaction;
they are around him like a heavy and dead
ening atmosphere, through which his spirit
has to make its way upward, and by which its
flight is perpetually retarded. It has always
been so, and he does not know it; or, if he
knows it, how difficult to enforce the remedy!
But in most instances he has no conception
of the true nature of the evil which hinders
him; is not, perhaps, even aware of his grievous want of alacrity and progress -like the
perpetual invalid, who has borne about with
him from time immemorial a seated disorder
which enfeebles him, but has no violent symptoms, and who still engages in all the general duties of life, without the vigor and delight that other men know, but with all the
vigor and delight that he ever knew, and
therefore without any consciousness of the
extent of his own deficiency; and who never
can be conscious how far he is below the vigor
and spirits of other men, except by being de livered from his ailment and made like other
men. So is it with him whose moral power
is palsied by the unpropitious habits I have
referred to: he never can know the degree
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PROGRESS OF THE
in which they are an injury to him, until,
having thrown them off, he sees how rapidly
he rises without them.
There is the greatest reason, then, that one
should strictly examine himself in this respect; that he may not b)e depressed forever
by circumstances in his modes of life, of
whose injurious influence he is ignorant, and
which he might counteract if he knew them.
But could he counteract them? It will
not do to answer, No; and yet the difficulty
is in many cases so all but insuperable, that we
are ready to understand in their literal sense
the words of the prophet, and believe that the
undertaking is as desperately hopeless as that
of changing the leopard's spots, and the Ethiopian's skin. To take the most familiar example: there is the drunkard. He continues such against his own will, in spite of his
own resolutions, in contradiction to his own
interest, tears, professions, purposes, princi.
pies. His bad habit is but the type of all
bad habits; a little more desperate, perhaps,
because it has worked itself into every fibre
of the body, and made its gratification to be
clamored for by every organ and function,
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CHRISTIAN LIFE.
every muscle, sense, and nerve; but all bad
-habits, in their place, exercise the same insane
dominion. Sloth -is not the man ashamed
of it? does he not make vows against it?
does hlie not mourn at the ruin and disgrace
it entails upon him? and yet he is slothful
still.  I  ll-temper-  does not the passionate
mother, whose bursts of anger lead her to illtreat the child that she loves, blush at her own
shame, and condemn herself with bitterness
and tears? and yet tomorrow the passion
is her master again. Procrastination - with
what keen anguish, with what abiding sense
of degradation, with what remorse for friends
neglected, duties omitted, precious opportunities of usefulness passed by, and occasions
of honor and improvement lost forever,with what compunction and self-condemnation, with what torment of unintermitting
self-dissatisfaction, - does that inexplicable
habit pursue its poor deluded victim! And
yet remorse and shame, and a thousand injurious results, and the appeal even-of sober
principle, are vain. He still submits to his
master, and will be wiser to-morrow. Other
instances any one can add. And they sug              7
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gest the fearful question, which almost staggers our hope as we reply to it- whether, in
sober truth, a confirmed ill habit be not incurable, and whether virtue have any prospect
of gaining in the conflict.
The best answer is found in the appeal to
opposite facts. The worst habits in the most
desperate cases, and under the most unpromising circumstances, have been corrected.
The history of the Christian religion is filled
with examples. It has shown its divine power
in these triumphs, and proved, by the wonderful trophies of its grace, in the amazing
conversions from sin which it has wrought,
that however desperate may seem to be the
struggle between principle and habit, yet the
good is the stronger, and must prevail in the
end, whenever it is faithfully and perseveringly supported.
But how much faith and what long perseverance it demands!
From these extreme cases, then, the Christian, who is seeking improvement, must take
both a warning and encouragement - a warn.
ing that he examine his condition, and be
fully acquainted with every circumstance in
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CHRISTIAN LIFE.
his modes of life which threatens this ruinous
ascendency over his principle; and an encouragement that, if he detect any which is
interwoven with his whole being, so that to
part with it is like parting with a right hand
or right eye, he yet is able to do it, and to
enjoy the happiness of deliverance.
lie is especially to learn the great duty of
seeing to it, from the first, that all his personal and social habits, his disposition of time,
the order of his affairs, the customs of his
daily life and business, be such as to facilitate his virtuous purposes, -such as to make
devotion and religion easy to him, -such as
to make holy thoughts and benevolent actions
always in place, never incongruous, never
irksome, because evidently in the way of
other affairs. By this method, he should give
to goodness the fairest chance of obtaining
a complete ascendency over him. Principle,
finding all the habits of life and mind congenial, would thrive, and strengthen, and
assume the complete mastery.
To make this yet the more sure, let him
take painis directly to aid and encourage his
principle; not only by bringing it forward and
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making it active on great emergencies, but
by allowing it, nay, calling on it, to exert
itself constantly; giving it small tasks; cheering it by the pleasure of small triumphs; and,
in a word, by making even those lesser offices
of duty and kindness, -which other men do
of course, and without thinking, - by making
even them matters of principle, - turning
them into thoughtful acts of religious obedience, doing them because they are consonant
to faith, and are suitable to a spiritual and
holy nature-whether he eats or drinks, or
whatever he does, doing all to the glory of
God, as to the Lord, and not to men. In this
way, the full power of habit and all its noblest
energies may be enlisted on the side of his
improvement. Because, principle being often
called into action, and being made the supreme deciding authority, more frequently
than any thing else, the habit of acting from
principle will become stronger than any other
habit; Will overcome, suppress, exclude every
hostile habit: the opposition between principle and habit, which once so palsied the purpose and neutralized the efforts of virtue, will
have ceased: and the forces once antago.
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CHRISTIAN LIFE.
nistic having become united in the alliance
of truth, having become in fact one, there can 
be no longer any serious impediment to the
onward progress of the soul.  Being made
freefront sin, ye will become servants to God
and have your fruit unto holiness.
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rTOGRESS OF THE
CHAPTER VI.
MAXIMS ON WHICH THE EXPECTATION OF RE
LIGIOU8 PROGRESS IS TO BE IBUILT.
LET US suppose that the low views and the
erroneous principles on which the Christian
life is too frequently made to proceed are set
aside. We next go on to state the maxims
on which the expectation of Christian progress must be built.
And, first of all, it is evident that there
must be a beginning. There is no such thing
as setting out in the midst. There is a first
step in every journey; there is the commencement of life in every germ.. The religiotis life of the soul can form no exception:
it must have a first step, a commencement.
Define it as you please,- let it be the act
of the human reason alone,- let it be the
moral character as exhibited in daily life,let it have no authority or guide but the individual judgment and will; still there must be
a beginning somewhere, for the simple reason
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CHRISTIAN LIFE.
that the individual who exercises the judgment and will has a beginning; so that no
one, by adopting a low idea of the nature of
the religious life, can thereby escape-the obligation to ascertain whether he have started
on the true career, nor assume that he came
into it as a matter of course when he came
into the world. For into what did he then
conme?  Iito those very habits of decent
living which, in his view, are the Christian
life? Surely not. Those habits were formed
at a time when he had power to form the
opposite habits; when he had the opportunity
to decide for himself which he would adopt;
and when, from some motive or other, he
did adopt the better rather than the worse.
If he claims that these should satisfy his conscience, then he must be able to show that he
adopted them of good intention, that he formed
the purpose to possess and maintain this character. Either he formed the purpose, or he
did not form it: if he never formed the purpose, but is what he is by pure accident, then,
of course, he will not pretend to any more
virtue, than if, by a similar accident, he had
become any other character; and, on the
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other hand, if he formed the purpose and
pursued it by resolute forethought and plan,
then he made a beginning. Therefore, nothing
can be more absurd than the idea so commonly and unthinkingly held  by men, that
they are in the midst of their religious progless, when they never formed a distinct intention of pursuing it, and cannot prove that
they ever laid an express plan in relation to it.
Now, if this be true in regard to that low
idea of the Christian life just referred to,
how much more is it true of that correct and
elevated idea which rises beyond the decencies of external morals, to the spiritual purity
of the affections, companionship with Christ,
and a universal holiness. This absolute and
express devotion to things invisible and eternal, this perpetual and supreme reference to
the spiritual, is not a state of mind which
grows up spontaneously, which starts to being
of itself, out of the incumbrances and occupations of this visible state; - it must be the
result of effort, the effect of design.  No man
can have thus gained the mastery over the
sensible present without having intended it
and labored for it: he could not do this with
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CHRISTIAN LIFE.
out fixing a mark on that era of his life;
without being able to go back and say that
then he made a beginning; not perhaps at
such a day or hour, or even absolutely such
a year; but certainly that at such a period of
life he took a decided stand, and, by some
process of mind more or less protracted, came
to the express understanding with himself
that he was bound by religious obligations.
This is the first element in the religious
life - this settled purpose of soul, this distiIct, acknowledged, cherished intention and
plan to live for heaven.  He that cannot
convict himself of having deliberately formed
such a purpose, who is not conscious of
having meditated and acted upon such a
plan, talks idly when he asserts that he is in
the midst of a Christian course. He deceives
himself.  He wants the first element of the
religious life.
Next to this purpose, religious progress
demands effort. The purpose must not die
in inaction; it must not, as, alas! is too frequently the case, waste itself in reverie and
musing. That dreamy state of the mind,
which loves to dwell in contemplation, -.to
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PROGRESS OF THE
sit with the eyes half closed and gaze on the
visions of glory which the fancy brings before
it, -to think of the admirable things that
may be done, and the grand designs which it
would be delightful to accomplish, -is an
unprofitable state, and does little to advance
the character.  It is likely to enervate rather
than to improve it. No purpose is of any
value which does not ripen into action; and
the ever-present purpose of Christian progress is nought, unless accompanied by everactive effort.
Inaction is the death of all virtue, the palsy
of the character.  It accounts satisfactorily
for the backwardness and meanness of Chris.
tian men  in  Christian attainments.   One
might almost fancy, from the sluggishness
with which men hold their faith, that, in
adopting the gospel as their hope and rule,
they had simply placed themselves on board
some convenient vessel sent for their deliverance, and now were quietly to float down the
gentle stream to the great city of their rest;
instead of which, all experience and all revelation teach them, that they are embarked
on a wide and perilous ocean, where they
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CHRISTIAN LIFE.
must watch and toil, and where they can
make no progress except they make effort.
Our infatuation on this point is dreadful.
Nothing else comes without labor and perseverance.   Learning, accomplishments,  distinction, wealth, -they are all earned; and
no man  who desires them  hesitates to pay
for them the full price, enormous as it sometimes is, at which alone they can be possessed. But that greatest and highest attainment, a perfect human character, is to come
of itself.  The calm peace of self-governmnent,- the holy luxury of heavenly-mindedness- the lofty and complacent dignity
of spiritualized affections-the honor of being
like God, and glory of entering with Jesus
Christ into immortal purity and love, -this
we expect to obtain by wishing: this vast
acquisition, this unlimited and illimitable
boon, we look at, we admire, we long for, we
do not doubt we shall possess; and yet we
make for it nothing like the effort which we
make to get bread for our children and ornaments to our houses.
No wonder, then, that the Christian community improves so slowly. No wonder that
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exemplary patterns of Christian attainment
are so rare. No wonder that, instead of
seeing all around us those men of the beatitudes, those partakers of the divine nature,
those illustrious imitators of God, of whom
the New Testament speaks, and whom Christ
meant to fashion as his peculiar people, we
are compelled to mourn over inconsistency
and frailty - compelled to hide a multitude of
sins in our good men with the mantle of a
wide charity - compelled to extenuate and
apologize for our own and our brethren's
faults, on the score of that human imperfection, which it is our shame that we have not
long ago surmounted  and repressed.   No
wonder that, in this laxness of exertion toward
Christian perfection, the world still waits to
comprehend the meaning of that description
which speaks of a "royal priesthood," "sons
of God," "perfect men in Christ Jesus."
For where are they? -Here and there one,
just to satisfy us that the Word of God de.
scribes no impossibility- just enough to cast
unspeakable reproach and shame on the indo.
lence of the backward multitude of believers,
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CHRISTIAN LIFE.
- backward, because they make no true
effort to go forward.
But it is not this listlessness and inaction
alone, to which we are to look as the cause
of this imperfect measure of Christian attainment amongst us; - much is to be imputed
also to a certain vagueness in respect to the
natuire and order of Christian progress.  Men
do not distinctly perceive what it is, nor how
it should proceed. The same inaccurate and
cloudy notions already adverted to, which persuade themn that they are in the successful
prosecution of a work they have never expressly begun, nor formed any express purpose of doing, lead them also to believe that
it will be, by-and-by, successfully completed
in some general way; but they have not described to themselves in what way it is to be.
They indistinctly see they must go forward;
but they have no clear, accurate idea of the
path, and no idea whatever of the stages by
which they are to proceed. In a word, their
notion of the whole subject is general and
confused, amounting to nothing more than
that they are to be improving themselves and
advancing toward heaven; that they are to
8
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PROGRESS OF THE
grow better as they grow older; -but as to
analyzing this idea, and reaching an actual
understanding of the several points in regard
to which they are to grow better, -tlthis lb
foreign from their thought; and no wonder
that this vagueness of purpose keeps them
stationary.
The next point, therefore, to be considered
is, that religious progress is to be made by
stages. It is not merely proceeding, but proceeding from one point to another., It is not
merely becoming better, but becoming better
first in one respect and then in another.
All progress is from stage to stage. In
the processes of nature it is so; - first the
blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the
ear; - a continued growth, but arriving at
and passing certain epochs or periods as it
proceeds. So in the growth of the human
frame, and of the human mind; so in the
advancement of society and knowledge. No
science can be taught, no art can be learned,
except in passing from step to step; one portion must be acquired first as a preparation
for another, and the third can be reached only
through the full comprehension of the second.
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CHRISTIAN LIFE.
Why should religious knowledge and Chris tian character be exceptions? Why should
we not expect in their pursuit also to find
natural steps of advancement, which invite us
to aim at one attainment in the first place,
and to make that a stepping-stone  for the
next?  And if our religious progress were
divided out for us into portions, would not
its accomplishment be more certain and more
satisfactory?
It may not be easy - indeed, it is very
difficult- to state distinctly and with philosophical exactness the successive stages of
the religious progress; and for this reason,
among others, that they cannot be precisely
the samne to all men. Even the author of
that celebrated description of the Christian
life which depicts the Pilgrim's Progress,
though of a class of believers who have gone
as far as any in making Christian experience
of the same undeviating type in all individuals-has yet found it necessary to allow great
varieties in the several histories which he
framed. Greater varieties still will be allowed
by most persons who consider carefully the
infinite diversities which exist in the natural
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PROGRESS OF THE
tempers and dispositions of men, and the cir.
cumstances of education, society, business,
companions, formns of life, &c. in which men
are placed. It is inevitable that, under this
state of things, no minute account can be
given of the stages of Christian progress
which will precisely apply to all persons.
We can state nothing more than a few general
principles, of whose varying application every
man must judge for himself.
Thus we may say, first, this culture of
character which you have undertaken is a
vast and complicated thing: it is not one
thing, but many; and it demands equal watchfulness and effort in many directions, as to
the thoughts, the passions, the words the
actions. It demands right affections toward
all objects that concern you in this world,
and in the invisible world; the proper balance
of the affections; the due adjustment of the
habits with the principle; the true combination of freedom and restraint, of contemplation with action, of firmness with gentleness. It demands knowledge, self-restraint,
watchfulness, and action, in so many directions, on so many subjects, and so uninter
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CHRISTIAN LIFE.
mittingly, that to undertake the whole  at
once, to assume the equal charge of all, and
attempt their faithful regulation at the same
moment, is a task that might well seem desperate. The work must be divided and classified; the field must be separated into portions; special attention must be first bestowed
on this, and then on that, and the huge labor
be facilitated by partition, the long journey
accomplished by stages.
Then, secondly, as respects the precise
order in which the several objects shall be
taken up and accomplished, it is clear that
the first care should be to establish the dominion of some great leading principle in
the soul, some one master authority, to whose
pervading influence all shall submit, and from
whose absolute word there shall be no appeal.
This will be to lay the foundation of the
character steadfast and strong, and to further
and facilitate the unity and compactness of
the whole structure. And the Creator has
provided for this in the very constitution he
has framed, by making conscience the supreme power, and ordaining that every faculty
and disposition shall bow to its sway. To
8*
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PROGRESS OF THE
assure to conscience its rightful sovereignty
is, therefore, the first object; to this one great
end the attention should be directed and the
chief effort made, because, until conscience
sits monarch in the soul, all effort after permanent moral advancement must be vain;
and afterward none can be lost; and in the
mean time, while this is going on, much discipline of the heart and the life will be unconsciously accomplished which otherwise
might demand serious labor. Let the vigor
of the soul, then, be concentrated to the
accomplishment of this result, rather than
dissipated and enfeebled in the attempt to
perform several acts of inferior moment.
Having made some progress in this great
work, there is another distinct object which
may in the same way command the special
attention of the soul, and be made matter
of studious and almost exclusive consideration-the predominant  affection, namely.
This is of not inferior consequence to that
just mentioned. That to which the heart is
devoted decides the character; and if the
character is matter of solicitude, especially
is it matter of solicitude to decide what shall
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CHRISTIAN LIFE.
be mistress of the heart. IIere the case is
plain. LOVE is the first and second thing;
love is the fulfilling of the law; he that
dwells in love dwells in God. This is the
principle that must sway the affections: when
it does, the law will be fulfilled, and the soul
will dwell with God, without any minute and
painful toiling after the petty details of duty.
Let this, then, be a distinct study, -the separate and express aim, - until the characteristics of divine love are impressed deeply on
the heart, and all meanier affections recognize
and bow to its dominion.
Another distinct object must be, to gain an
ever-wakeful consciousness of the divine presence. The good child must learn to feel the
Father's presence, must never lose sight of
his eye; and it is essential to spiritual growth
that the spirit human should be always aware
of its contact with the Spirit divine. This is
to be learned. This must become a habit.
And it can only be by making it a subject of
distinct study and effort; so that the soul,
which the officious senses would restrict to
this visible scene of things, may be able to
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PROGRESS OF THE
struggle away from'them, and look alway at
the things which are unseen and eternal.
Let these suffice for specimens of what is
intended by stages in the religious progress.
I trust I have said enough to exhibit nmy
meaning clearly. The doctrine I would inculcate is, that, instead of proposing to ourselves,in general terms, the vast and vague
purpose of becoming religious, we should
parcel out our duty into its natural departmnents, and make each the object of separate
discipline, until we have become in some measure adepts in it, and then attend in the same
way to another. Of course, this method cainnot be pursued to the letter; no one can
exclusively cultivate his conscience, and have
no care of his affections; nor cherish the
thought of God, and yet neglect his conscience. On the contrary, attention to either
of these objects greatly tends to fix attention
on the other two; but unquestionably the
greatest proficiency in regard to each and to
all would be achieved oy an effort specially
directed to one at a time.
This general principle might be illij.Ftr,afed
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CHRISTIAN LIFE.
and explained to a much greater extent; but
enough has been said to render it intelligible, and show its application. One thing at
a time, though a rule impossible to be literally
adhered to, is yet, as far as it may be observed,
as wise in the progress of the religious character as in any other important affair.
9N=6
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