REESE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. Received ^fC*^&^r€8^ Accessions No.^I'jS.j^SS^ Shelf No Z* %o jut-* * kJZ^I . ■•. «. « 1\ > • » . v THE IDLE WORD SHOUT CUT OF SPEECH, AMi ITS EMPLOYMEKT \$ CONVERSATION. BY EDWARD HJLBURN, D.D. rBRBENDART OF BT. !»AV I IOP OF OXKOBD, AND OIHI OF HER MAJESTY'S • N OHD1WABT. •* As alphabotsjn kpry employ, r alter hour, u|p yeirin!' ' ;n_' \Mih :t"ri Those seeds of s< »' : .ruage in the moiuh of the adult (Witness its btdgniflcaill result) Tooot: "fplay, A toy to sport with, ana pass time away. • * * * :• of human tb r use thee as they ought ! Bat ail shall giv e accoant o f every wrong, Who daro dliwflB HM*4he tongue." — Cowpzb. university! :\V YORK: D. A PPL ETON AND COMPANY, •448 & 445 BROADWAY. 18C6. 5 ^ J IN MEMORY OF THE LATE RIGHT HON. HENRY GOULBIJRN, MP., WHO HAS PASSED TO HIS REST SINCE THIS TREATISE ON TOE GOVERNMENT OP THE TONGUE, A GRACE WHICH HE SINGULARLY EXEMPLIFIED, WAS FIRST INSCRIBED TO HIM. PEEF ACE Tii; reader of this little Book will soon discover from the style adopted in parts of it, that the sub- stance of the several Chapters li:is been delivered in the form of Sermons. But the throwing of these Sermons into the form of short Religious Essays has i me the opportunity of introducing matter ununited for the Pulpit, and of erasing much which had only a special reference to the circumstances and temptations of my own flock. At the same time, I have frit unwilling (in this, as in a former publication) to omit entirely all practical addrefi and appeals of a devotional character, however out of pi -sages may seem to be in an Est For indeed I feel that all exclusively speculative treatment of Religious Subjects (and specially of a 6 Preface, subject having so close a bearing upon practice, as that with which the following Pages deal) is to be avoided. We do not think on these subjects aright, unless our minds are led on from, the theory of them to the influence which they ought to exercise upon our practice, — unless we allow them to stir within us the sentiments and aspirations of devotion. Nor, except we view them under this light, are we safe from erroneous conclusions respecting them. For right conclusions on Religious subjects cannot be formed by those who speculate upon them in a wrong, or in a defective, spirit. To some, I fear, the Rules of Conversation here proposed may appear too strict, and even impossible to be carried out. May I request that such Readers will consider, before they reject the Rules, what is said in Chapter VII. on Words of Innocent Recrea- tion ? I may have erred doubtless in some of my appli- cations of it to practice, — but I cannot see my way to evade the general principle, that words, to redeem themselves from the charge of being idle, must fulfil some one of the ends which words were designed to fulfil. These ends are indicated at length in the body of the Work, and it only remains for me to say, that a wider scope should possibly be ((UNIVERSIT given to the term, u innocent n, u Man it was < i with the nature of :i reli rth, A great man) which oan- be justly called witty, or Inn ad Here Ihe burdens of life, and to tighten the • with I gleam of merriment ; nor would it be iter into any oaelbJ co n v ersati on with- out passing throngh the preliminarj porch of lighter remarks, and repartees upon ordinary topics. It* sneh things v hided, conversation would lose isc and gaiety, and with those its power of ihing the mind. To preserve this power (which • always to attach to it), while at the same time guarding against empty words, and the en- croachment of a spirit of unwatchfulness, is doubt- less an arduous task, — one of the most arduous perhaps winch the Christian has to achieve; but it is our encouragement and consolation to know that cur Merciful Lord never commands impossibilities, and offers us not only the guidance of general prin- ciples in His Word, but also Grace and Light to direct the individual conscience, in its attempts to apply those principles to the conduct of daily life, B, at G. CONTENTS OHAPTKB I. THE CONNEXION OF SPEECH WITH REASON. Our Lord's warning against idle words— The Old Testament warning on the same subject, and its position in the Decalogue— the indifference of words has a strong hold upon the mind, even of religious people— Probablo moral effects of the attempt to rectify our words— Importance of words deduced from the Connexion of Speech with Season— The fact of this connexion— Inability of inanimate Nature to speak— Passionate appeals to Nature not responded to — The rational creature's response by Prayer (which is Speech) to God's appeal— Inability of animated Nature to speak — Animals can express only feeling, and not intelligence, by means of sound— The song of birds a thing of the same class with Instru- mental music — The wonderful amount of intelligence conveyed In a com- mon-place direction or instruction— Prayer and Praise the highest exer- cise of Speech— Consequent degradation of Speech by low or frivolous employment of It— the dignity of singing the Praises of God, as an exer- cise which combines both intelligence and feeling— Singing associated by the Inspired Writers with Glory— Conclusion, 17 NOTE. On certain appearances resembling Speech in mHwi*]*, ... 82 1* 10 Contents. CHAPTER II. THE CONNEXION OP SPEECH WITH REASON. PAGE Grounds and manner of the connexion, the subject of the present Chapter— We find the faculty of Speech in exercise, when Adam names the animals — Why are we never informed of man's endowment with this faculty ?— Because the gift of language is involved in the gift of a rational soul, as colours are involved in the light — Impropriety in supposing the names conferred by Adam to have been arbitrary— What is implied in the hypothesis that the names designated the properties of the various ani- mals, viz. : the mental processes of 1, Observation ; 2, Comparison ; 8, Classification — Classification the great characteristic of the Eeason — Shown from its being the special endowment of superior minds — Lan- guage expresses the classifications of the Eeason — in the every-day em- ployment of words, no one thinks of mental processes which gave birth to them — Christ, as the Antitype of Adam, giving names to the Apostles — The probable meaning of the name Boanerges — Love, and impetuosity in behalf of the person loved, two sides of the same character— Digression on the spurious charity of the present day — Why the naming of the stars should be an attribute of the Divine Being — Our Lord sees our characters — What names would He bestow upon us, as significant of them ? . .39 NOTE. On Classification as the great function of the Eeason, .... 55 CHAPTER III. THE HEAVENLY ANALOGY OF THE CONNEXION OF SPEECH WITH REASON. The doctrine of the Trinity in Unity can never be thoroughly ap- prehended by the finite mind— Partial glimpses into its significance attainable— Eeason and Speech closely intertwined— Eecapitulation— ftterUs. 11 TAQU 1 Mm i nctnoaa of Season and Speech— the first teen without the second— Impossibility of saying whether Reason or Speech is the Mi appear to he twin faculties, though words on this mbji uch as to strike an awe into every conscience in the ear of which they are sounded. "I say unto you that every idle word which men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgnn Nor is the law behind the Gospel in its protest against this particular form of evil. We find such a protest inwoven into the most essential part of the Law — into that part which is universal in ap- plication and binding upon all alike — into the j tables of the Decalogue. "The Lord will not hold him guiltless," we there read, " who tak- 18 The Connexion of Speech with Reason. eth His Name in vain " — the implication here be- ing that God (and His estimate must be righteous, — cannot be harsh) will regard sins of the tongue in a light totally different from that in which the world regards them. Let it be borne in mind that the Ten Commandments are the code of es- sential morality for all times, for every generation, — that there is nothing in them (considered as a rule of life) which has ever been abrogated, or is susceptible of abrogation, — that they are not a series of arbitrary rules made (as it were) by the discretion of the Almighty, but are based upon the eternal relations subsisting between God and man, between man and his brother ; and it will then be seen that every precept which they incul- cate (whether directly or by implication) must be part of the essence of true religion — must have a profound import, and one which we can only trifle with at the peril of our souls. JSTow the grounds of this serious view of light talking require to be explained. Grounds of course there are — God's every word must be based upon counsel, — but they do not at once approve themselves to the mind. So entirely has the comparative indifference of words taken pos- session of the minds even of religious persons, that they find it difficult to fight against the unscrip- tural persuasion. Of what sin does even the well- The Connexion of Speech ?/•//// R*a$on, L9 principled and well-conducted man think D tightly, than of 8 profane or hot expression, u I in a moment of exciten And if he v assured, as he might be assured on the I >ands, that meh :i Bin baa really a very Ben ibly his Understanding would DOi once acquiesce in Bach a verdict, lie might sup- - his onderstanding (as he ought to do) in oe to the testimony of God's Word, but it would require so [deration before he could bring round liis mind to assent to the reasonaUe- ness of that testimony. It i- ithor'fl purpose to throw together .•■ thoughts in the following \ axing on the important subject of Conversation. He : more and more that one of the greatest hindra: t.» personal piety — that which eats out the heart and soul of true religion — is an unrestrained and unchastened exercise of the tongue, — that if per- sons could but be persuaded to banish from their empty talk (talk relevant to nothing in particu- lar, gossip about their neighbours' concerns and arrangements, little proianeneesee of expression, 1 the like) and to leave only such speech as was instructive or amnaing (for words of inner humour and wit are surely not idle words) — a • amount of moral and spiritual mischief would be swept away as so much rubbish out of the 20 The Connexion of Speech with Reason, world, and men would be introduced by the effort into the atmosphere of holiness, as finding them- selves unable to effect such a clearance without constant mindfulness of the Presence of God. May God abundantly bless what shall be offered upon the subject, to our conviction of sin and conversion from it, through Jesus Christ our Lord. I propose to begin at the very foundation of the subject. This method of proceeding (Bellum Trojanum ordiri ab ovo) may be unsuitable indeed for a poem, but it is essential to the clearness and stability of an argument on graver subjects. Thus our first topic will be — The Connexion of Speech with Reason. If this connexion can be thoroughly estab- lished, if it can be shown that Speech is the great organ of Reason, — the sign, proof, and evidence that a creature is rational — then the seriousness of Speech will at once become apparent. If it be impossible to make an ordinary remark, without calling into exercise that special gift which dis- tinguishes man from the inferior animals, and allies him with God and holy angels, then there may be some real and deep-seated impropriety in making a trifling or light remark, — in doing so we may be playing with an instrument of mighty power, and degrading it to low and cheap uses. The Connexion of Speech with Reason . 9 I Speech then, as afo aeotedwith khl Reasonable creatures an those who . speak, — and conversely those who can Speak are reas With this tact alone we shall occupy OtU> ( 'liapti • cch and Reason are connected will I ibjeol of future consideration. We are surrounded by, even as we are com- posed of, three element.- — Body, Soul, and Spirit. I. 1 cast our eyes abroad upon inani- mate nature — upon the frame of the earth, the trees, There is no Speech here, — no power of express- ing either intelligence or feeling. For Speech is not merely the emitting of sounds. It is of course [OQ8 that inanimate nature may emit sounds. The waves BUTge, the Stream rippleB, the avalanche crashes, the thunder mutters, the hare arms of the - in winter sway and creak in the wind; hut these sounds, however a lively fancy may picture in them the voice of nature addressing herself I man. have evidently no affinity with speech. Let a man go abroad amid the mountain ies or in the fields, and poor forth his soul to nature. Let him previously be wrought up to point of passion and interest — let him have burning thoughts within him, and long to 1 See the Note at the end of the Chapter. 22 TJie Connection of Speech with Reason. unbosom them. Let him be full of passionate grief or ardent enthusiasm, and let him be bent upon relief by venting these emotions. Let him address the great solitude, as if it had ears to hear him, and intelligence to respond. Let him weep, let him plead, let him expostulate, let him fling himself upon the bosom of the soil, let him call heaven and earth to witness, let him attest the mountains to his controversy and the strong foun- dations of the earth, let him seek to extort a hear- ing by every form of appeal which can awaken passion, and rouse dormant sympathy ; well, what is the response % Nature, to those who seek her sympathy, is like Baal to his worshippers. " There is neither voice, nor any to answer, nor any that regardeth." The great mountains stand in grim silence around, unmoved spectators of his passion ; or, if they give back sound, it is only " jocosa montis imago," — his own words returned as if in mockery upon himself. The mimicry of his own pleading rings in his ear, and he turns away with a bitter sense of the barrenness of his efforts. Nature has no intelligence — she can- not counsel him with discourse. She has no soul — she cannot comfort him with sympathy. Imagine now the case of a similar appeal made to an animate and rational being. Take as an example the tender and urgent expostulations The Connexion of Speech with R of God with: .1 ereature 1 11:111. Gfod pours out His whole heart dtf love in pleading, — in yearning o\< ing efaild. He draw ing appeals from every topic, li axperi y weight with it. At one time He roBfl over the §inn< thunders of retribution — He whispers into the :h and judg- ment. At another. He arrays before him the blessings and comforts of a lot which has fallen in fair ground, and asks by an inward voice which will not be suppressed, whether these do not '•imately call for gratitude. At another. II. • pleads in vet more urgent strains the Sacrifice which He has provided to win hack the allegiance of man, — the Sacrifice which testifies to a love stronger than death, which the many waters of human indifference cannot quench, neither can the floods of ingratitude drown it. The God- man by J I is Word, by His Ministers, by Hal Spirit, pleads the wounds which scarred His vd Body, and the pangs which rent His Holy Soul asunder, the strong crying which went up God from the depths of His unfathomable I the bitter tears which, in the days of His flesh, the malice of foes and the faith: ness of friends alike conspired to draw from Him —well — and is there no response? God be 24 The Connexion of Speech with JReason. praised, these pleadings have not gone forth into the world of spirit — into the world of reason — without awakening a reply. The reply is Speech, articulate and intelligent. The reply is Prayer — no barren empty retort — but a taking of words on the part of many, and a turning to the Lord. When God's Yoice issues His invitation of Grace to all the world, and says, Seek ye My face, an answer struggles up to Him from the depth of many a conscience, " Thy face, Lord, will I seek. Oh hide not Thou Thy face from me, nor cast Thy servant away in displeasure." He addressed the spirit, or reason, of man, and the spirit com- munes with Him by its organ of Speech. II. But, in the second place, we are surrounded by animated nature — a stage in the creation in- finitely higher than that which we have just con- sidered. But again there is no Speech here, albeit there is a dim dark semblance of Speech — some- thing which struggles up towards being speech, and seems to make an impotent effort to express itself in articulate language. For Speech (prop- erly so called) is not the expression of feeling, but the expression of intelligence or Beason. The brute creation, as possessing Soul or affection, is capable of expressing feeling. Animals will cry when frightened or struck ; the dog has ever The Connexion of Speech with Sea* i known to moan round the hen r.ut the most striking mplificati tibility of animal and of their povi ring it, i be (blind in the notes of birds* M The fowls of the hm\ ye the Psalmist, ".-in-- among the l>rai ' .'" r e atme phenomenon ' -1 in which stands at the head of this chap- -"Thc time of the singing of birth is 01 and the Voice Of the turtle is heard in our land/' vhich birds pottl forth expresses joy, contentment, and satisfaction, feeling! of which they are no doubt susceptible according to the limit- of their nature, and the conditions which it imposes. Their music, like instrumental in: ion and embodiment of sentiment. What are the harp and the organ, and those other nanisms which trace up their origin to Jubal? What are they but instruments for expressing ting, a]. art from intelligence? And their sounds, as being the offspring of affection, touch and move the springs of affection. There arc, indeed, some persons, in whom this source of : emotions seems to be sealed up. hut others there are, in whom the soul predomint and is the key-note t<> their nature, — who can be red even to tears by strains of music, and whose soul, in a v;r »dy, now rising into 26 TJie Co7inexion of Speech with Reason. exultation, now sinking into plain tiveness, lies rocking npon the undulations of the music, as fishing-boats heave and fall with a swell in the bay. Now birds are Nature's musicians, and the song of birds is Nature's music. And thus, even among unreasoning creatures, there is an expression of sentiment or feeling by means of sound. III. But how infinitely does this expression of feeling fall below Speech, which is the expres- sion of intelligence. Only think what Speech is ; how wonderful a gift for any creature to be en- dowed withal ! That by a few articulate sounds, uttered almost with the rapidity of lightning, I should be able to summon up a whole train of ideas in the mind of anothet, and those, not rough-hewn ideas — not vague and undefined im- pressions — but notions nicely chiselled, exact, and precise (notions following in an orderly and con- secutive arrangement one upon another) — so that, for example, a person whom I send to search for a thing in my chamber, comprehends by my uttering twenty words the precise spot in which he is to lay his hand upon it — why this, if we will but ponder it, is a miracle — not the less marvel- lous for being of daily occurrence. Compare with this the utmost verge to which any animal can go in the communication of ideas. Some of The Connexion of 8peei the domestic animals can convey the - of [trade and ai ognizing their owner . pnniatimonl and pain under the smart of it ; but what are these mere [mj dona of the soul, even when conreyed by Bound, compared to the Discourse of Res on, m which idea- . marshalled, and 1 with a facility which is only equalled bj their clearness. Between the sound ling and the sound expressive of intelligence there is a great gulf ii than that which separates man from man, the kindly bnt rough peasant from the scutes! phi • r. For the \\ may be developed by Ltal training into the philosopher, but no training or discipline could develop mere feeling into reason. We see, then, as a fact in the world around us, that Reason and Speech are associated to- gether. "Where Reason is not found, there Speech is not found, and where Reason is, there Speech s the organ or expression of Reason. i remarks of a practical nature arise from what has been said. In the course of our discus- sion we have incidentally mentioned I which the human heart makes to God's invita- tions of Grace — Speech in the form of prayer and praise— the highest form this which Speech i 28 The Connexion of Speech with Reason. assume. How forcible is the argument against vain and light words, which this single thought supplies ! The noblest exercise of Speech, its most exalted function, its great final cause, is that it should be poured forth before the Lord in con- fession, supplication, thanksgiving, and praise. Now, viewing the matter in this light, is not this of itself sufficient ground to make us think seri- ously of Speech ? Does not the evil of an idle word become apparent, seeing that it is a degra- dation to low uses of a noble instrument ? Is there not an obvious impropriety — an impro- priety residing in the nature of things — in em- ploying a gift, which is destined to such noble uses, for purposes of defamation, railing, profane- ness, or with the mere frivolous object of whiling away time, apart from the motive of improve- ment % I may add, in the language of St. Paul, accommodated to my purpose : " Say I this thing of myself, or saith not the Scripture the same also % " For is it not written, " With the tongue bless we God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men, which are made after the similitude of God. Out of the same mouth proceedeth bless- ing and cursing f " And then what does St. James add % " My brethren, these things ought not so to be" There is a deep impropriety, a folly, and a vice, in these contradictory employ- The Connexion in Rea& organ. How ! shall . up into your lipa the inspired strains which flowed n the harp of David: or shall you go into your chamber, and recite before God the pra; which was taught you by the Infinite Wisd I then shall you go forth, and employ the same^ tnpany, to point a profane joke, or to launch an nnclean innuendo, orto rail against your brother on the moment that you arc thwarted I Will you thus take an instrument of the temple service and degrade it to the mean end of gi tying temper, or lust, or the desire of saying some- thing smart I Lord, deliver us from the guilt of i sin in time past, and from its power in time to come ! Finally: — One conclusion, to which the truths which we have developed conduct us, is the great dignity, glory; and beauty of human Bjnging. We hare soon that the song (as it is called) of the bird ia expressive only of feeling. There is soul in it, but there is no reason. Even without rea- . the outpouring of music, whether from the bird's throat or from the instrument, is \ beautiful. But let reason be added to mi: the expression of feeling be added to the sion of intelligence, as is the case in human singing. Let the devout sympathies of the heart 30 The Connexion of Speech with Reason. be made to keep peace with articulate discourse respecting God's mercies (as it is written, " I will sing with the spirit, and I will sing w T ith the understanding also"), and what is the result? The. result is just this : the highest active engage- ment, in which man can by possibility be em- ployed. Intelligence speaking the praises of God, while the heart echoes them, what a sublime exercise ! How worthy of occupying the facul- ties of man throughout eternity ! Therefore it is, that in every Scriptural representation of the state of glory, we find this hymning of the praises of God forming the great staple of the employ- ment of the glorified. Are they spoken of as the four living creatures, or as the four-and-twenty elders? They are represented as falling down before the Lamb, having every one of them harps, and singing a new song, saying, " Thou art wor- thy to take the book, and to open the seals there- of : for Thou wast slain and hast redeemed us to God by Thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation." Are they the redeemed from among men, who follow the Lamb whithersoever Lie goeth ? They are represented as " harpers harping with their harps, and sing- ing as it were a new song before the throne, which no man could learn but " themselves. Are they those who have gotton the victory over the beast, The Con nexion of Speech with Rea$( >■■ . 81 ;• his image, and over his mark, and the number of his name : Tin \ . re shown to us ■tending ^rlass, mingled with fire firmament, in which the stars wander and the lightnings play) and the song of Moses, the servant of Go, Baying, "Great and marvellous Thy works, Lord God Almighty ; jusl and Thy waya, Thou King of Saints." Lord, when we turn our minds to these glor' ts of Thine, werecognize deeply «>ur nnmeetness to join in that mighty chorus of Hallelujah. u Woe \B me, fol I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of fl of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the :. the Lord of Hosts." Lord, touch and hal- low, our lips by the live coal from Thine altar, nt and mediation, "Who was a coal of earthly nature, kindled with the fire of Divinity. Touch our 1 [th love and zeal, and out of the abundance of the heart let OUT months Bpeak Thy high praise. And by the Blood of the Lamb, and through the instrumen- tality of sanctified trouble, make us meet to j that heavenly chorus, who "rest not day and night, i Ih'lv. Eoly, Lord I Almighty, which was, and is, and me. Thou art worthy, O Lord, to r< and 32 Note, honour and power; for Thou hast created all things, and for Thy pleasure they are and were created." NOTE ON CHAPTER I., p. 21. "Reasonable creatures are those wJio can speak — and, conversely, those who can speak are reasonable" In order to justify these two propositions, it is necessary to define Speech exactly. Speech, then, is the conveyance of ideas from mind to mind in logical method. By holding fast to this definition, we shall be enabled to see our way through cases, which might at first appear to constitute exceptions to the above positions. Thus it might be alleged against the first of them (" All reasonable creatures speak "), that the dumb are reasonable creatures. But the dumb have the faculty of speech, though some imperfection in their organs pre- vents their exercising it vocally. The essence of speech is not in the sound ; otherwise a machine might be made to speak. The dumb can not only arrange his ideas in an orderly and methodical manner, can not only throw them mentally into consecutive words and propositions, but can convey them, so arranged, to another person, by talking on the fingers. Against the second position (" All creatures who can speak are reasonable ") it might be alleged that birds of the parrot tribe, though not endowed with Reason, can speak. But to this also it may be replied, that the mere making of articulate sounds, inde- pendently of the ideas annexed to them, is not Speech. It is not pretended that imitative birds can mentally frame a proposition ; and the doing this is part of the essence of Speech. Note. But there axe cases among t animals which mount up ■nek more nearly to the notion of speech, than tl. i Sir Benjamin Brodie'fl I Vy eh (.logical Inquiries (p. 192, Second Bdtti •i place it h bees hare some means tfh each other, answer- placed in a recess in a wall, and a bee i of a stick whit. •!; | ip, he rem . Mid then i : In about I an hour, thirty issued from the same hive, ami came to regale themselves on the contents of (I bees from the M tinned their visits as long a Sugar remained in the state of syrup, and lit for their purpose, hut none came from anotl ourhood. When the sugar was dry, the saucer was deserted, except that even no v. then a straggler came as if it, and if he found that by the addition of water it was again in a state of syrup, his visit was presently followed by that of numerous others." On r trait of Natural HiMory (and I believe many a instances Bright be adduced), it might occur to one to ask: " Is not this Speech in all its essentials ? The b.v who | the saucer communicated to those in his own hive the intelligence that syrup was there — an intelligence of which i the adjacent hives did not avail appears to have been the case. But th no evidence whatever that the in; as communicated By « method of arrangement involving Xuhjcct, Predicate, and Copula, or that bees could so communicate. And how man . of Reason are involved in the logical method of communication, will be seen in the succeeding Cha; com- munication of ideas from mind to mind, which is Speech, bi. communication of Oiem in logical proposition*, which ordinary sons effect by the mouth, and the dumb by the hand. Exclama- tions or gestures might convey to me that a man was in pain, or 2* 34 Note. in ecstasy of delight, or that he wanted me to reach him something, but no one will dignify these methods of communication by the name of Speech. With all submission of my judgment to the great scientific authority, whose work I have just quoted, and whose book is characterized not only by its patient investigation of facts, and refusal ever to outrun their verdict (the great scientific virtue), but also by what is far more precious — profound deference to Revealed Religion, I am unable to go along with all his conclusions, those especially which relate to the possession of the higher rea- soning powers by animals. Thus, for example, he says, in the person of Ergates — " Setting aside the lowest form of animal life, I apprehend that no one who considers the subject can doubt that the mental princi- ple in animals is of the same essence as that of human beings ; so that even in the humbler classes we may trace the rudiments of those faculties, to which in their state of more complete development we are indebted for the grandest results of human genius. We cannot suppose the existence of mere sensation without supposing that there is something more. In the stupid carp which comes to a certain spot, at a certain hour, or on a certain signal, to be fed, we recognize at any rate the existence of memory and the association of ideas. But we recognize much more than this in the dog who assists the shepherd in collecting his sheep in the wilds of the Welsh mountains. Locke, and Dugald Stewart following him, do not allow that brute animals have the power of abstraction. Now, taking it for granted that abstraction can mean nothing more than the power of comparing our conceptions, with reference to certain points to the exclusion of others : as, for example, when we consider colour without reference to figure, or figure without reference to colour ; then i" do not see how we can deny the existence of this faculty in other animals any more than in man himself In this sense of the word, abstraction is a necessary part of the pro- cess of reasoning, which Locke defines as being the perception of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas. But who can doubt Note. 35 l dog reasons, while he is looking for his master, whom ho has or (as in t lie instance of ulii.h wt m re aportlnoj jnet now) when ho is seeking his way home over an unknown country ? " flection ho accurate, Dugald Stewart docs not iiu an to deny thai hrute animals arc capable Of tin- simpler t i -oniiiLT. lio merely states that being enable t<» can ■ee of thought by (he l » < ■ 1 1 » of artificial eigne (that I language), they have no power Of entiling | ions." "Without douhting for an instant the vast suporiority of the human mind, still // ejegMOre to me to be difficult to say how far the capacities of brute animals /imif.'l in (Item respect*, li is not t<» 00 any long or complex pre tevertheieee, that thoae who are horn deaf end dmnb reason Oft; and, on the other hand, it DO ■ pit ■.-- i whether some animals are so wholly unprovided with lan- The ineapability of animals to arrive at general or scientific . isions, maintained by Dugald Stewart, and questioned in the above passage, seems to me to be p er fectly tenable, notwith- standing the instances adduced against it Let it be pasted finds his master in the same way (so far as mental process is concerned) as a man or a boy would. lie knows his master by sight. (A rcated : the senses, united with memory, eflbots this.) He knows his habits. Having accompanied him En his walks, he is aware to what places he usually resorts at certain hours. He goes to the same places, or in the same direction. In this he lias an additional assistance from the I Inch 36 Note. the man does not enjoy), in the keenness of his scent. Prob- ably this keenness of the scent furnishes a large amount of help in that much more wonderful phenomenon, adverted to in the beginning of the Conversation, and which I myself have known as taking place — a dog taken in a carriage and by a circuitous route, to a distant place, finding his way back to his former home across a tract of country with which he could have had no previous acquaintance. Probably animals, being much more occupied in the senses, — living in them much more than men do, are generally far more observant of sensible tokens. A man's mind has a wider sphere through which to diffuse itself. As he walks or is carried through the streets, he muses on future contingencies, or on past incidents — his mind is not in the senses — audit, non auscul- tat. Hence in many exercises of the mind upon the notices of sense, we should expect to find him even inferior to the animals. But in the instances referred to, I cannot see any evidence which shows more in the mind of the animal than memory, and close observation. Where is the abstraction? the generaliza- tion ? the perception of law ? any approach to the apprehension of a general and scientific truth ? If we must represent by an equivalent proposition the idea in the animal's mind, will it ever mount above a particular proposition — " This is the man whom I saw, or this the road along which I travelled, the other day," &c, &c. ? Though indeed to represent it by a propo- sition at all, gives probably an erroneous notion, as all propo- sitions involve arrangement and classification of ideas. (See next Chapter.) Does not the author somewhat ignore the old and most true distinction between the intellectual efforts (if we are to call them so) of animals, and those of men — a distinction which places between the two a great and apparently impassable gulf? Marts state is susceptible of continual improvement, and his civilization of continual progress by fresh discoveries. Reason Note. possessed by him) is susceptible of I i we can set bo limits. When i> there any I parable to this, or :vt | ally the sam.\ in the animals? It cannot, I 8uppos< , I that animals, under vular emergencies, occasionally devise a •mselves. They may dis- t a door ot ia a particular 01 down the platform of ;i general principle^ or not upon it step by Btep the ■aperstruetore of an ameliorated and 1 dftfton of " the repnbH •pnbUo one whit I now than it was when rooks were first i lotion Be triis ns (with pool truth and .uchi- make drring !>» 11-, bore galleries, raise vaults, and i bei of .-kill end industry arc no doubt innate in some of them, and co r re sp o n d to tl. and modes of B ' t < domed with t If not, why not ? Is it only beeause they not the mnnlol stimulus necessary to don? becai; . as to aeqtdesco in a supi ' the needs of their pn Of existence? 1 • :i the immediate want is satisfied, there is no further restlessness i mind — no This may partly account for it, but we think is much reason to - Dugald Stewart, an impossibility of " arriving at general or tific conclusions." I have not adverted in the text (lest I should too much tres- pass upon >us and practical character of the work) to iv find place in a note, as going far to i Reason a: h is a very old debate (into the rights of which it is foreign to our present purpose to enter) whether or not it is possible to reason mentally, without having the words in the mind, which 38 JVote. represent the subjects of our reasoning. Whatever be the truth on this moot point, the fact of its being a moot point is suffi- cient to establish generally a close connexion between Reason and Speech. If a question were raised and discussed, whether or not it is possible, under present arrangements, to pay tithes in kind — whether or not they may be paid in any other form than that of money — this would be a sufficient evidence of a connexion be- tween tithe and money, and that the latter is commonly the form in which the former appears. OHAPTEB 11. THE CONNEXION OF BPKBOB WITH REASON. " ZlnXt out of tbc QvounU tlic JLovO (Soo fovmro clirnj beast of tfcc ftflo, ano rbrvn fotol of tbc air ; anD biouflltf tljrm unto £lttam to sr r tobat be uioulO call tbrm : anb tobatsorbcr 3oam calico cbrvn libinfl ciratuvr, tbat hMl tlic name thereof."— ft, L9. " 31c surname!! tbcm Boancrrjcs, uibfcb ts, tbc sons of UnmUer." -M.u:k iii. 17. In the I pter we called Attention to the fact that Speech and Reason are associated tc- getli In pursuing the topic farther, we shall catch a glimpse of the grounds and manner of thai While speaking on subjects of rather an ab- stract and philosophical character, I desire, hoth [f, that we should keep in mind that the end of our discussion is to edify — to point out how intrinsicaHy serious and awful a the faculty n\' B[ . and so to illustrate, 40 The Connexion of Speech with Beason. and show the grounds of, Our Lord's censure of idle words. The naming by Adam of the beasts and fowls is the first exercise of human Speech upon record. I say, it is the first exercise of human Speech. The faculty of Speech must have existed before. In the circumstance of his naming the several creatures, it is sufficiently implied that our first parent must have been previously endowed with the gift, which alone could have enabled him to name them. Not only must the bodily organs which are necessary to articulation — the tongue, the lips, the palate, the throat, the* teeth, — have existed previously; but those processes of the mind, which are essential to the formation of lan- guage, must have been previously developed and (to a great extent) matured. Now a question might be raised of this kind. Speech being so obvious a characteristic of man, why are we never told that man was endowed with Speech ? Why is no notice given us, that God bestowed upon His noblest creature a gift so wonderful ? Why is our attention never called to the time at which the grant was made ? Why, in short, is the endowment assumed as a matter of course ? The answer is obvious. The gift of language is involved in the gift of a rational soul. v Connexion of Speech with fteason . 1 1 And a rational soul ' I th<> constitution of • thai do creature El a man without it. It having I that Man was made in and thai the .ih of lives (noi ' :ual, in- tellectual, and spiritual life) was DTI athcd into his trflg, it would liavc been BUperfluoua to add tliat he was endowed with Speech, for tha >rved in tins account of hi ation, ] following illustration is offered. Snp; I man had manufactured ■ watch. need to be subsequently informed that he had placed a mainspring in the heart of it. For a mainspring is essential to the const itu- of a watch: a watch is not a watch (but only the sembhrnee of a watch) without a mainspring, and therefore, when we are informed that lie man- ufactured a watch, it is implied that lie gave it a mainspring. Or suppose that those words of In- :i, "God maketh the light," were read in your hearing. Would any man, possessed of a knowledge of the subject, think of asking, "Why rid that Clod made colours, that beau- tiful raiment of many hues which nature is dre withal, the ruddy streaks of the evening SU1 the deep purple of the sea under BOme conditions of the atmosphere, the gorgeous plumage of birds in hot climates, and so forth I n The answer of 42 The Connexion of Speech with Reason. course is, that in making light, God made colour ; all colour is in the light, as yon will see by em- ploying the prism. In the absence of light there is no colour, showing that colour resides not as a quality in objects themselves, but is an essential property of light. The difference of colour in objects is caused merely by some very subtle difference of superficies and texture, one superficies or texture absorbing the brighter rays, and reject- ing (or reflecting) the more sombre ; while others, of directly contrary affinity, absorb the sombre, and reflect the bright. Now just as colour inheres in light, and is developed out of it, so Speech in- heres in Reason ; and, therefore, when it is asserted or implied that a creature is rational, it were only superfluous to add that he has the faculty or en- dowment of Speech. His endowment with Rea- son implies as much. But now let us look more minutely into the narrative of Adam's naming the creatures, and consider what other implications respecting the gift of Speech may be found in it. It is against propriety to suppose the names to have been purely arbitrary and unmeaning, to have been simply articulate sounds attached with- out reason to the various animals. Such an hypothesis may be discarded, as not correspond- ing with the dignity of the subject. The consti- <h:ill he in its pll Classification, then, m thegreaf work of the And it will be observed that Language classifications made by the Language does not give us a distinct won! in the world, — it does not assign to things as to men, proper names; l>nt it gives us words, embracing whole . and bo susceptible of numerous applications. Take any substani . or verb, in any language, — and you will see that the substantive see not one object, but many, — the adjec the quality not of one object, but of many, — and verb not one action, but many. The sub- r-tantive comprises numerous objects, and the verb numerous actions, under one head. This is the er of Classification in the human mind, putting f forth in words. Hence the intimate connec- tion of Speech with Reason. Of <• is not intended to convey the im- -ion, that every one employing Language has iously gone through the mental processes of observation, memory, and classification, which we have described. Certainly not. It is only asserted that rst formation of Language, as in tl<< first adoption of it hj ca dual, these pro- of the Chapter. 48 The Connexion of Speech with Reason. cesses of mind must have been previously at work. Words are the great medium of commerce between mind and mind, as coins are the medium of literal commerce. And as coins, in passing through many hands, become quite worn and smooth, and lose all trace of their original minting, so it is with words : men fling them about in exchange to one another, as current for such or such a significa- tion, without ever dreaming of the intellectual pro cesses which gave them their origin. But Divine Truth, with its heavenly precepts against idle or light words, recalls our minds to this origin. It bids us see in words the exercise of the human Reason. It rubs off the crust and film of usage, which has grown over them, and obscured their origin, and made us think as lightly of them as of pebbles on the sea- shore, and discloses to us their lustre, worth, and weight, and above all the image and superscription of Reason which they bear — Reason, which was itself made in the image of God. We turn, however, gladly from the more speculative part of the subject (which yet is neces- sary in order to the thorough sifting of it) to the second passage which stands at the head of the Chapter — that passage which brings before us, not the first man who introduced sin and death into the world, but the second Adam, through whom 'Conner ^jyeech with Iieasi alone flow pardon. Ingtothegui] ressly st;. '.ml to ha Igtire of Him thai was to c Adam m over nature, by bestowing erior animals, so d«> wo find the Lord Jesus Ohrisl oiani- : v iii I lis Bpiritnal Kingdom of Grace, by bestowing names upon His]) 3e gives to Bimon the name of Peter, toJai an creatures. To '■■■■ i€ any thing truly according bo ipliea of course an insight lot mo- tor. For which reason it is specially mention* ;'(iod,that Be DEI to He teUeth the anmberof the stars, and No man can name the stars appropriately (he may give them names drawn from tl. cesof his fancy — from imaginary figures in which they arc grouped); but no man can give tlicm mum* v.rpressivc of 'tit > \ ' r character^ because in truth he knows not what they What is a planet? Is it a vast globe of super- fluous fluid, — a repository of waters, dispensed witli by the great Artificer in the formation <>t the earth, and now wheeling round on the ski lie mundane system? or is it an abode of life and intellivj . the home and haunt of angels I And what is a fixed star? Is it a sun of other systems? or is it a shred-coil of luminous • fragment of a nebula ? We may speculate on these things, and form or a> theories on the subject — but we are totally igno- rant of the true character of a star, and so n remain, unless the range of our telescopes is enor- mously enlarged — ID enlargement, the mechanical 54 The Connexion of Speech with Reason, difficulties of which wo aid be probably insupera- ble. The nature of a star is a mystery — and, con- sequently, the naming of a star is an attainment beyond our reach. "We have spoken of Our Lord's intimate knowl- edge of the character of His disciples, a knowl- edge which He evinced in naming them. It is well to remind ourselves that He has a perfect knowledge of our characters — could at once pro- nounce the name which would most suitably ex- press them. His eyes, which are as fire, penetrate through all disguises, and read the ruling passion, the besetting sin, under every mask of outward circumstance and position. He has read our secret history from childhood: not that history which has been patent to the world, but that which has been transacted in the inner man, in the depths of our consciousness. Does He see that we are His indeed ? that amid all the blackslid- ings of certain portions of our lives, amid all the intricacies of feeling and motive, amid all the alternating conflicts of passion and principle, there is in us a true and loyal heart ? Let us but put this question to our consciences solemnly, and compel from them an honest and candid an- swer to it ; — and we shall not have closed without benefit a Chapter, which to some may have ap- peared too abstruse and speculative for a religious . on a subject ><> eminently practical as that of the [die Word. ft GHAFTBB ii.. p. i8. Classification is Oic grett tcork of the Jicason. ■ lark, it will be i thai the ▼ices of tho Rea- elassilieati- i — the fruitful mother of all -tition — is over-hasty Classification. Two things aflSOCl ntally (the weari: from illness) the uncultiva y, and re- gards as essentially t mother. This ii an in- stance of the vice of hasty Clas.-ilicatioii in its rw Among the educated, the same vice shows itself in other ! One notorious property of stupid people ?"« th< V apprehending a distinction. They have laid down a rule, to which lordly adhere in cases which are obviously exceptional — or they entertain some cherished view, under which they reduce all cases which have some superficial affinity with it. Thus th.y reckon things homogeneous, and class them under one head, which 1 tally have profound ies. But there is an opposite defeet of the Reason,— and it is one of refinement and over-cultivation. It is popularly termed the "J a distinction irithout a A auimni will often dcvelope distinctions of this kind — distinctions of tlie leal character, and which in truth have no n would reason aright, we must neither classify too rough! tinguish too finely — we must steer a mean between the two excesses. I shall illustrate further the two faulty processes, by pointing 56 Note. out the way in which they manifest themselves in the exposition of Holy Scripture. Several of Our Lord's Parables are, by a person who does not minutely study them, classed roughly together as conveying pre- cisely the same lessons. Thus, the Parables of the Pounds and the Talents are supposed to have precisely the same scope. The Lost Sheep, the Lost Piece of Money, and the Prodigal Son, are all regarded as Parables on Repentance — and the distinguishing details dismissed or overlooked. In the hands of a great scholar and divine (like Archbishop Trench) each of these Parables has its peculiar lessons and delicate applications — and the similarity between them is no longer specific — only generic — they are seen to differ as much as various species of grain differ, while all are grain. The opposite defect of over-refinement and multiplying dis- tinctions, is seen in the proceedings of the Harmonists. Where two narratives of Scripture obviously refer to the same event, they are induced, by some trifling discrepancy of detail, to regard them as occurring on different occasions — a flagrant improbability on the score of common sense. Two witnesses giving truly their accoimt of the same event, would never do so without superficial discrepancies— for no two minds refract the same event at pre- cisely the same angle. What is it that is faulty in the man who generalizes hastily, and the man who distinguishes too finely ? It is the Reason, the mind, the judgment. Therefore, Classification is an essential property of the Reason, and according as it is justly or viciously performed, the Reason, is in a sound or unhealthy state. OHAPTEB III. tui: im:avini.v ANALOGY of the 00 SPLlA II WITH REASON. " H tbr brflinninfl hMf H)r Woio, anD ttjr Wort) teas toitb <5oO, anO ttoc QPoiU toas GfoO." — John i. 1. The doctrine of the Trinity in Unity is the tystery of the Christum Religion. For !v of all mysteries that must be the deepest and most mysterious, whose subject is the Nature of the Invisible and Infinite God. If then upon all teaser mysteries we can expect only partial light, while here below; much more is it reasonable to suppose that upon tin of mysteries" a cloud will ever rest. Of Jehovah it is written that " clouds and darkness round about Him." His nature and attri- butes must be ever (more or less) shrouded to the human intellect — at all events while "confined and pestered in this pinfold here," — while cooped 3* 58 The Heavenly Analogy of the within the trammels of an animal nature. The most which the wisest and holiest man in the world can hope to apprehend of such a mystery, is but little. Still, as the doctrine of the Trinity is unques- tionably the Truth of God, and the Truth cannot really be at variance with an enlightened Reason, — we may hope without presumption, under the guidance of Scripture and the illumination of the Holy Ghost, to gain partial glimpses into its sig- nificance — glimpses like those which, through the tumbling sea of mist beneath his feet, a wanderer in the mountains catches of a patch of verdure on the bosom of the hill, as a slant ray of sunshine shoots athwart his path — glimpses sufficient to make us easily believe that, if the full flood of Divine Light could but be poured upon the soul, as it will be in the day when " we shall know even as we are known," the whole doctrine would stand before us in all its proportions, as a fact absolutely necessary and essential, and harmoniz- ing with all other facts in the whole compass of Truth. The prosecution of the subject, of which these pages treat, leads us naturally to an illustration of this Cardinal Mystery. We saw, in our first Chapter, that Speech or Language is, as a fact connected with Reason, ion of Speech 101M Reason, 066 who van .-peak— and !v, all who can B] isonable to this role have '. On * band, ii tit be alleged thai the dumb a* able beings, — yet the dumb cannot Bpea] ther might be argued, mav exist without ch. To this it may be answered that actual Sound is not essential to the faculty of Speech. faulty of conveying to other per- sons (not mere feelings altd emotions, but) the processes of the understanding. The dumb can do tlii- (and with marvellous intelligence) U] their lingers — showing hereby that they possess the essentials of Speech. Again it might be alleged, though perhaps more wantonly than in earnest, that the whole tribe of imitative birds speak, and. employ certain vet these birds are not rational, r not ther le that all creatures which ik are reasonable creatures. Hut here again it may be answered that sound — even articulate ad — is not the great essential of Speech. Speech is the power of conveying I ical met) rocesses of one's own understand- ing. Birds, which imitate the human voice. imitators and nothing more : the WOfdfi which I 1 Sec Xote to Chapter I. 60 The Heavenly Analogy of the speak they never originate, but catcli them up from men, — nor is there the remotest proof that, when they utter them, they connect with them any in- telligent meaning. And let me, by the way, call attention to the circumstance, that an Echo stands in the same re- lation to Inanimate Nature in which an imitative Bird stands to Animated Nature. An Echo is the mimicry of Speech by matter. The language of an imitative Bird is the mimicry of Speech by Animated Nature. Neither Matter nor animated Nature can really speak — neither of them can communicate to others (in method of discourse) ideas originated by themselves. But they can imitate Speech — or rather they can imitate its out- ward form, — of the intelligence, which constitutes its essence and spirit, they are not partakers. We must be prepared then to admit that Reason and Speech are essentially connected to- gether, intertwined one with another. The Homer- ic epithets [xepoip and avdijeig (articulate speaking) characterize the rational creature Man. The power of Speech inheres in the faculty of Reason. Reason is revealed by Speech. Speech |s the unfolding, the manifestation, the development, the communication, the message, the utterance, the outcoming, the revelation of Reason. Yet, though essentially interwined, — though Connexion of Speech with Reason . 61 on implies the power of Speech, and Speech implies Reason, — Reason and eh are clearly different faculties. Do you wish to BOO them apart, in order to uncertain their distinctness! We can show them to you erance one from another, 01 rather, we can show them to you, one latent, ami the other active. Take the case of a man completely absorbed in his own reflections, — Sir Isaac Newton, for exam- ple, ,'ple tall to the ;nd. in thinking out the law of gravitation. Wrapped in deepest calculation and self-oommun- ing, pasi down, and arms fol< and utters DOl a word. Speak to him — call him by name — he does not answer, lie is dumb — his min from the outer world. Lay your hand on the shoulder of such an one, — he lo«.k< up with an exclamation of surprise, and you say to him — "So you have found your ton: have your" Perha i be reckoned among the accuracies of language, that we do not *• V.'U have found your Speech* hut u You have found your tongue" — hereby implying that the ;lty of Speech was latent in him all the while, but that its instrument, the tongue, had b without -he had not spoken, — he had not iie faculty of communicating his ideas to others, — but he had been reasoning 62 The Heavenly Analogy of the all the time, and if Sir Isaac Newton be the case imagined, reasoning to some purpose. There is an instance of Eeason, independent of Speech. However, it might suffice to say, by way of proving their distinctness, that the words Reason and Speech on the surface convey distinct ideas to every mind. And yet, distinct as these things are, Speech is wrapped up in Eeason ; — so that wherever the faculty of Eeason is, there the faculty of Speech must be. This was proved in the last Chapter, where we showed that Human Language supplies us with a classification of objects, by assigning generic words to embrace a great number of indi- viduals. To classify, however, is, as we then pointed out, the work of the mind. It is the mind which, contemplating objects, arranges them under different heads. Wherever the mind or Eeason exists, it must have this power, latent in it, of contemplation and arrangement, and accord- ingly, wherever the mind is, there must be in em- bryo the faculty of Speech. So that if we were asked which of the two is the earlier — the Eeason or the Speech — our answer must be, that they are so inextricably intertwined together, that neither the one nor the other is the earlier. They are coeval. They are twin faculties, the moment of their birth the same. May we not say that in a Connexion of Speech with Reason. child, as a general role, the dew Lopmenl of 8p< ace 'exactly with the development of ondeistandingt ; ie with Light and Colour, which 1 have ali-t I 1 M an illu.-t rat i«m. ('dour and istiuct things. We have distinct no- tions, when we pronoun, OolOUT and Light But, as Colour inheres in the Light, — is a natural property of the Light, — it is impossible to say with Truth either that Colour existed bet Light, or that Light existed before ( olour. T! too, are twin births. At the same point of time, when the M"M High issued Hi- first creati Light sprang into i ■■• and Colour with it. Now we are told in the first Chapter of ( I hat Man was made u in the Image of God." We cannot understand this assertion of the Lody of Man. For God is incorporeal — "lie i Spirit/' saith the Scripture; — as the first of our An' I [e hath neither Body, Pa nor Passions." We are driven then to the < elusion that the resemblanoG between God and D — the "Image," which was originally stamped upon OUT Nature in the minting of it, — stand* the Mind or . -in that part which dis- criminates us from tli e brute. creation. I toy to us from the brute ; — for that it does not stand in the soul 64: The Heavenly Analogy of the or animal nature, may be inferred from the cir- cumstance that brutes have this animal nature, and yet the Image of God is never said to have been impressed npon them, The Spirit or Mind of Man, then, presents ns with an Image of God; and in examining the Spirit or Mind of Man, we may expect — we are warranted by Holy Scrip- ture in expecting — to find some adumbration, some dim shadowy outline, of the Nature of the Most High. If, however, we had only this notice of Holy Scripture, it would behove us to be very cautious indeed in drawing inferences from it. The sub- ject is one upon which Angels may well fear to tread, — into w T hich only a fool would rush with presumptuous curiosity. At the same time, while it is a point of reverence and right feeling not to seek to be wise beyond what is written, it is also a point of holy ambition, to seek to be wise up to that which is written. And there is another passage (or rather there are many other passages of Holy Scripture) which throw' a singular light upon the subject before us. They are those in which the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity is called " the Word" " In the beginning " (thus opens St. John's Gospel ; — how like an oracular voice, dropping from heaven, it sounds, — how full of mystery and sublimity ! ) " was the Word, and 1 waa with ( tod, and the Word was < h •;i, "the Wt-nl," was do( original will. i. It was i term much employed by -, to r adopted it. has adopted it, it has now the seal of Indura- tion, — and we must helieve that in the ten: applied to Our Lord, there IS a deep signilica: which perhaps a prayerful consideration, and comparison of other inspired notice-, may T9\ to 00. on was framed in the Image of God, — and Our Lord is called the Word J those the two Scriptural intimations, which guide OB by the hand into part of the truth respecting the Divine Nature. We lie that Reason involves a thing distinct from itself, nam. -h, or the power •mmunicating the processes of the Reason — so that whosoever has the faculty of Reason, has, in the faculty of Reason, the faculty of Speech or of the Word. have seen that though Reason wraps up BCD in it -nceive of Reason as 66 The Heavenly Analogy of the energizing latently, and of the faculty of Speech as having no exercise. And we have seen that neither Reason nor Speech can make any claim to priority of exist- ence — that they are twin faculties, born at the same instant. Now listen to what the Holy Catholic Church has gathered from the Scripture respecting the Nature of God. First, she says, that there is a Trinity in Unity, that is, more than one Person in the Divine Na- ture. Man's spirit, the Bible says, was made in the Image of that Nature. And in Man's spirit there are at all events two faculties, Reason and Speech. The Son, or Second Person in the divine Nature, goes by the name of " the Word of the Father," that is, He stands to the Father in the same rela- tion as that in which the Word, or Utterance, or Speech, stands to the Reason or Understanding. Secondly : St John intimates that there was a period when, although both Blessed Persons exist- ed, yet the Son was wrapped in the bosom of the Father, — when, though the Word was, yet the Word came not forth. " The only begotten Son, which is in the hosom of the Father, He hath de- clared Him." That is like Reason, with the fac- ulty of Speech latent in it, — not put forth. Thirdly : the Church holds and proclaims that Connc speech with Rem Majesty i Persons I i hat - the Father i, and tl tenia] al — that t : to attribute raid be to fall into the very bar Bed I'V upwards of three hundred :ops assembled in Ootmd] at Kicaea. adnmbral this in the human spirit is thai twin birth of Reason and Speech, to which have already called attention. They are both (as :ient might reply, "the Catho- Doetrine is, that in God tin A only (which I could nndersl and to seine extent realize) — but two distinct Per- sons." No doubt it is so. And perhaps it be shown by means of another intimation of [ptnre, that at all events there must be more than one Person in the Godhead. For it is writ- that k ' God is love " — that love is the essen "re of God. Love tool His nature, long a before the World began, before there were any human beings to love, before those morning- ion dawned upon the brow of time, — before the bad sprung into i «• God was c from all eternity. But what does J. imply ? Does it not imply a Person, or Persons, e loved ? it' there was only one Person in the I'd'. gigantic solitude reigning all around G8 The Heavenly Analogy of the him, could He be Love ? would it not be subvert- ing the definition of Love, to say that He was so? The fact is, that what St. Paul says of a Mediator, is true of Love — " a Mediator is not a Mediator of one ; " — there must be two parties to make him a Mediator. Similarly we may say, " Love is not of one." It, too, implies more than one party. We may learn from what has been said that' there is no doctrine of the Scriptures and the Church, however mysterious on the surface, which will not by and by reveal to us something of its propriety and harmony, if we diligently read the Word of God with thought and prayer, and patiently ponder and compare its statements. The first point which it becomes us to ascertain, is, that the Holy Scriptures are from God. There are many books of evidence (which it is now the fashion to depreciate) which have quite set this question at rest for every impartial and candid in- quirer. When it is set at rest in your mind, then the remainder of your path is clear. You must accept every thing which God says in the Scrip- ture, however many difficulties it may present to your Reason. But your difficulties shall diminish daily, if you will patiently read on, fastening your belief on the sure testimony, and praying ear- nestly for the Light of the Spirit. Beautiful dis- Connexion qf Speech with Reas<> 69 • shall tarsi upon you, as you pursue this ries which shall have in them an ; i of intellectual and spiritual enjoy- ment, until at lea enthralled from the body, K We .-hall k:. i a- also uv arc K ." So have I seen a traveller catching at first through !ol boughs disjointed glimpses of which he is journeying, but by and by he emerges from the woodland, and a sudden turn brings him to the open brow of a hill, and th ben ! the City, in th out- line of its fair proportions, its pinnacles smit- ;m, and the silver river inte maze of streets. W»- I:,;-. . Reader, that Speech in the nature of man, represents Christ in the Nature of God. This, independently of the Connexion of Speech with Reason, impresses a value and a dignity upon the faculty of Speech. When you . and communicate to others the results of IT reasoning, you are adumbrating in the limits of a finite nature the Nature of the Infinite One. Would you take any thing which represents Ckr; intended to remind us of Oh] and make it the instrument and minister of sin? Would you, for exam]-! the con elements of the Eucharist, r ing (as they do) His Body and Blood, and devote them to the 70 . The Heavenly Analogy, &c. purposes of intemperance and excess ? and shall any child of man take this faculty of speech, and degrade it in vain, or profane, or unclean com- munications, making it the instrument of morally corrupting others, and of being morally corrupted himself % Son op God, Only Begotten of the Father, who hast sanctified the utterance of the human lips, by taking unto Thyself the title of the Word, touch their hearts with penitence, who have so offended, and, as we would all flee from the contagion of a pestilence which can terminate only in death, so make us to flee from the moral pestilence of filthy talking and idle words, and set Thy watch and seal upon the door of our lips ! CHAPTER IV. AN IDLE WORD DEI I im.UE. ju sbalt not flo up an& Uoum as a talruravrr amoiifl tljn people." — Lkviticts xix. 10. Soi boes this preoept of the Law in liis Proverbs: — "A fair' -vi-alcth secrets: but he that is of a faithful spirit concealeth the mat- ter." And bap. xx. 19: u He that goeth about as a talebearer revealeth secrets : therefore meddle not with him that flattercth with his lips." And in echoing the . the wise king illus- trates it. For the law contains a simple prohibi- . without a reason assigned. But Solomon gives a reason. One chief mischief of talebearing ia apt to repeat things which have 1 him in confidence; or, at all v\< which had much better be considered as < fidei i if they were not communicated on that express understanding. 72 An Idle Word It is a startling fact that so large a proportion of the preceptive part of the Bible should, deal with sins of the tongue, and deal with them so severely. I cannot help thinking that this feature of the Scriptural code is an incidental evidence of its having come from a supernatural Source, or, in other words, being inspired. For probably no human treatise of moral philosophy ever gave to words such an importance as the Holy Scriptures assign to them. Certainly Aristotle's great trea- tise on human duty ignores words altogether. And one can see that in any estimate of moral subjects made by mere Reason, the words of men (as being after all a passing breath) would be taken little account of, and the attention fastened simply on their actions and sentiments. But not such is the estimate of Him, whose " thoughts are not as our thoughts." Throw all the precepts of the Old and New Testament into one code ; and how very large a proportion of them will be found to turn upon words ! What a serious, austere view the Sacred "Writers take of what man would call slips of the tongue ! None more serious and austere than Our Blessed Lord Himself, who yet was by no means an austere man, who came eat- ing and drinking, and went into all societies, shunned no company, and whose Sacred Heart was a fountain of most pure and beautiful com- I th< A passion, in which was inirr«»ivd q of the her, and apathy of < k>d with all Sis creatures, The Pharisees, convinced of the 1 >h I lm>t, had been belying their lotionci by attributing Hi- workB to Beelzebub, and inwardly flattering tin donl ith the thought thai their disbelief lay in wordfl onlv, not in the sentiments of the heart. Our Blessed Lord solemnly warns then that this . word.- and sentiments was in fad pardonable sin ; tin' sin against the • ; and then, as His manner Coming down from the extreniest form <»!' He was condemning to its milder and more <\- kble shapes, Eesaid, "But I say unto you, That rord that men shall Speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of Judgment. n And where Our Lord sets the keynote, all the writers of Holy Scripture chime in unison. i all the the Book of Proverbs, whieh have reference to foolish talk, had talk, or too much talk; and you will have a very large numher of verses. Add to these the precep ts of St. Paul forbidding corrupt commnnioarion, and prescribing speech with grace seasoned with salt. Close li.-t with that paragraph of t :le, which forms the body of the third chapter, and which speaks in such awful terms of the wide- 4 74 An Idle Word spread mischief done by sins of the tongue, and with that later passage of the same Epistle, in which the Apostle reiterates with emphasis the caution against swearing contained in the Sermon on the Mount, " But above all things, my breth- ren, swear not ; " and you have not only a portion of space devoted to this subject whicji seems to mere Reason disproportionate to its merits; but also, which is more remarkable, the warnings against this class of sin are more deeply serious in tone than those against almost any other. Now whatever we may imagine in the vanity of our minds, we may be quite sure that the Word of God has Reason on its side. And we may be quite sure also that we shall have a glimpse of that Reason, if we will but look for it carefully and de- voutly. Physicians, it has been well said, make an immediate and accurate judgment of health by the state of the tongue. And there is the same connexion between a healthy tongue and a healthy condition of body as between a sound heart and sound wholesome w^ords. The tongue is symp- tomatic in both cases. Our Lord says so. "A good man, out of the good treasure of the heart, bringeth fortli good things : and an evil man, out of the evil treasure, bringeth forth evil things ; " " Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh," h there is another analogy betweeu mental and ImmUIv health, which is still more to thi' point. -titutiou U bodies is often produced by the moal trifling -c>. The hli-ht which destroys some artiel nance, the pestilence which lavs low its thoii- rhapa traceable to the presence in the air, or in food, of certain very minute animalcule-, which are taken into the plant Of into the human sv.-' throngh the Lunge, These animalcule- are possibly nail, that it requires a powerful d disooyerthem. And in the body itself the ulti- mate nodes, whose arrangement 001 health or disease, an' so very insignificant that in many 08808 the disorder could never bfl :ue:; -halt not bear dust thy neighbour." Aceord- ing to the ordinary (though by no means univer- sally Ij division of the tables, the first con- tains four commandments, the latter six. Tim this code of moral precept- be as we believe, s per- fect and exact one, one-fourth part of our duty to God, and one-sixth part of our duty to man, have to do with the wprds which we speak of them re? ctively. In t :it chapter we shall deal exclusively with the .mmandment, reserving the Third for subsequent consideration. 30 to which the Ninth Com- mandment applies is that of bearing fid mony to the detriment of another in a court of 78 An Idle Word justice, a sin so universally abhorred that it is superfluous to point out or dwell upon the hei- nousness of it. But let us attempt to extract the principle of this Commandment ; for the court of judicature, and the solemn oath, and the other formalities of the law, are only the husk in which the principle is wrapped up. The principle, then, is this: that toe shall in no respect injure our neighbour's reputation. It will not be denied that reputation is a very precious treasure. Life would not be worth having, if a man had no sort of credit from the society in which he moved, if he stood low in the esteem of every soul which formed his little circle. To be respected by others who know us, to have some influence with them, to carry some weight, this is in itself a form of life. Says St. Fran- cis of Sales, "We live three lives, a corporal life which stands in the union of soul and body ; a spirit- ual life which stands in the grace of God ; and a civil life which stands in our reputation. The cor- poral life is stifled by murder ; the spiritual life is stifled by sin ; and the civil life is stifled by slander, which is a species of murder, inasmuch as it destroys a species of life." It is most true. A blow aimed at a man's reputation injures him quite as effectu- ally, though in another form, as a blow aimed at his body ; and most men are far more sensitive to the first of these injuries than to the second ; they . .lllllllllil* »l lnut'l I I the caJ than the weapon of the highwayman. Tl user of the brethr iven In 8< to the author ; and thi id in the holy volume by the oarrativi mpl to rain the fair reputation which Job enjoyed In the Conn of Heaven, The dander* r th< □ imitation of the devil ; and, aa children aci in im- itation of their parents, he may be truly called devil's child. r.ut the ninth | i f the law r which tall far >hort of slander. Slan< faUeo&SL'vuon to the detriment of our neighbour's character. But in l'aet a tion to t ; ment of his character fa forbidden, whether it be true 01 false. Some one perhaps will say : " I do not see this in the Commandment: it is false wit- - against our neighbour, not any witneae against him which is forbidden. " But consider wh hazard even a substantially true assertion runs of hen. in the general impre-i.-u created by it. The bare fact alleged may be true enough, but if none of the evidence in favour of the I I none of the extenuating circumstances be attag by side with the : violate truth in tl .four words upon th though the particular details of them may be cor- rect. It' we exhibit a man's vices only, and con- 80 An Idle Word ceal the proportion which those vices bear to his virtues, we calumniate him quite as effectually, as if we ascribe to hirn a vice which he does not possess. A man may have a defective feature or features, and yet the general proportion of his person may be so good, and the general cast of his countenance so pleasing, that the ill effect of the features which are awry is either modified, or entirely carried off. It is an untrue representation of that man to say merely that he has too promi- nent an eye, or too thick and coarse a lip ; that may be the case, but it is not a fair, because it is not a complete, description of his personal appearance. And, similarly, if my neighbour has been overtaken (perhaps by surprise) in a grievous fault, and if I, for want of better matter to entertain my company withal, blaze abroad this fault of his, but am wholly silent as to his good character up to that time, and as to the prayers and struggles against that particular sin which he may have made, my witness against him becomes as certainly false in the general impression created by it, and therefore as mischievously injurious, as if I stated of him what was not matter of fact. In a word, if a fair account of a man's faults and sins is to be given in conversation, the common rule of justice must be attended to, that evidence shall be heard for the defendant ; which if it were done, a true' verdict 81 might be ar lint e?id 1. dot doefl any party ap- [nterests of the defendant, so that the [>o being false, and ei idenoe by which it is arrived at ii t«> all intents and \>\u\K)seafal8e witness. This consideration evidently ma] ingly difficult for us, and practically all hut im- possible to say any thing to our neighbour's disad- vantage in common conversation, which shall not ral effect on the minds of the hearers. If they gathered nn other from our words, than that the all ti.»n were true as an isolated fact, it might be all well and good. Bat this we know from our own experience they do. With the speed of lightning we all of us proceed from adverse f to a general unfavourable judgment, on a man's character, and the devil being in the ear of the company as well as in the tongue of the i the thought rises up instantaneously in their minds, " lias such a man indi B this or thai I :i what a villain he must be? how must all confidence in him be at an end ! " One element of miachii f in the habits of the talebearer has been thus exhibited. The t per can hardly escape the charge of being detractor. But even without poeitivi 'ion 4* 82 An Idle Word he may do great mischief by disclosing private confidences, or things which had better be con- sidered as such. The confidences which are so disclosed are generally of a petty and insignificant kind ; idle gossip is usually the sphere in which such communications live and move and have then' being, according to that word of the Apos- tle, which attributes this particular form of sin to women without families, who have nothing to do : " Withal they learn to be idle, wandering about from house to house " (how clear an echo have we here of the Mosaic precept, " Thou shalt not go up and down as a talebearer among thy people ") ; and not only " idle, but tattlers also, and busy- bodies, speaking things which they ought not." And because of the usually contemptible charac- ter of such gossip, it is not sufficiently considered how real an enemy to society the man or woman who indulges in it is. One great difference be- tween God's estimate of sin and ours is, that God considers a sin in its tendency and natural opera- tion, apart from all the checks and hindrances which impede its full development. Man, on the other hand, judges of it, not by the mischief which it has a tendency to do, but by that which it act- ually does. To see the full evil of revealing con- fidences, we must consider what the result to So- ciety Would be, if every one revealed them. Sup- th !>■ 83 ■ that t : nan, \\\ to Kris family and friends, abroad when he has attained to i nenoe and is in i position of naaftthiess : >\\y\ that every mini-' ligion thought hi liberty to divulge tin 1 bbci trusted t<> him by bnrden< ion ; ^ii] >j >< >-c* that the secret history of many a family which stands will before the world and possibly fa at the head divnlged by <>ne of its meml onqnestionably many facts would thus be brought t<» light which arc now little dreamt of J hut what would become Of that OOnft man and man, on which the whole social fabric i> built I Trust in our fallow-men, which is the foundation of all social virtues, and which is so ■utial to the love of them, would he at an end u1, — to Bali m with unc- tuous flattery of the life of their professors. Not lid the ApOStle, who is tl tuple of the grace of Love in a sinful man. St. John did not think that pretty philosophical sentiments and a blameless life were to compound for vital error in doetri er transgresseth," ori ••and abideth not in the doctrine of Oh hath not God: he that abideth in the doctrine of [fit, hath both the Father and the Son. If there come any unto you, and bring not this doc- trim . him not into your house, neither bid bim God speed." But these and similar qualifications having D made, it remains for us seriously to put it to our own consciences, — "How often, when 1 have ad abroad sometbing to another's disadvan- < ked another's character, have I I justified in so doing by considerations of the ■rests of Society, or the interests of truth?" And remember, in self-examination on this point, that our unfavourable testimony may have really more or less 1 one of yet 86 An Idle Word may not have been intended by ourselves to do so. There may possibly have been good grounds for bearing witness against our neighbour ; but we did not proceed to it upon these grounds, but merely from want of something better to say, mixed up perhaps with a grain or two of personal dislike. I must just glance, before concluding, at the word " false," in the Ninth Commandment, and give it a prominence which it has not received hitherto. Insincerity is falsehood ; and all insin- cere apologies for our neighbour, or commenda- tions of him (an extreme into which some well- meaning persons are apt to run from a dread of calumny), are to be avoided. Though we should endeavour, if possible, to defend him when at- tacked, it must always be by honest arguments, such as we ourselves think to be valid evidence in his favour. Above all, we must beware of salv- ing over a personal aversion by hollow and false compliments, a hateful hypocrisy which transpires very quickly, and which never fails to inspire the listener with a just disgust. Let us remember that " he that hideth hatred with lying lips (as well as he that uttereth a slander), is a fool." Let us take heed of coming under that animad- version of the wise man : " He that hateth dissem- bleth with his lips " (maketh his voice gracious), 87 i np deceit within him. W • him not : lor tip minationa in his heart" \Vhoae hatred is [nesa dial] he iho 1 gregation.' 3 : a mora] duty, which, insignificant as it seems at first, wo have shown to have an important bearing on the welfare of Society. Lei none imagine that mob a topic is unsj'iritual off unevangelicaL We fa it is true, nothing to preach hut the unsearchable riches oi an tliere are unsearchable riches i:i Hi- Example as well afl in Bifi ment, in His precepts as well U in I lis promisee, which equally require to be unfolded in the view of His Church, And in order to connect with IIi> pare and spotless life the precept which we have I tempting to illustrate, we need only adduce the words of Psalm x\\, which i acription, by anticipation, of that perfectly right- d, whom God would accept in virtue of . meritorious obedience, who should abide for ever in the true tabernacle which the Lord shed, and not man; who should rest for < upon tli: ly Hill, whereof Mount Xion was but a type: — "Lord, who shall abide in Thy !1 dwell in Thy holy hill \ 88 An Idle Word defined from the Decalogue. . . . He that backhiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour He that doeth these things shall never be moved." CIIAPTKU V. AN EDLH WORD I nOH " riiou sbnlt not tnhr the "Xante of tbr HorD thn (Sob in bain I for tbr HorD toill not bola ftim fluiltlrss tbnt tabctb Wis Xamc In bain." — Exodus xjl 7. This precept, like the rest of God's command- Ingly broad. For by " the Name of God" is not to be understood merely the d< nation in speech of the Divine Being. K;un old times bang significant of the characteristics of the persons bearing them, the Name of God in Boly Scripture is often put lor the character and attributes of the Divine Being : the most remarka- ble example of which mode of speaking is to bo found in the proclamation of God's Name to Koees, that proclamation being nothing else than an i of God's attributes in Mos. : u The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suli'ering, and abundant in good- ness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, for- 90 An Idle Word giving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty." If in the Third Commandment the Name of God be under- stood in this broad sense, every sort of profane- ness, all desecration of things connected with God will be forbidden by it. It is, however, our pres- ent purpose to deal with it only so far as it for- bids wrong words, against which in the first in- stance it is directed. There is a great resemblance between the Deca- logue and the Lord's Prayer, indicating to a thought- ful mind that both proceeded from one and the same Author. The Decalogue falls into two tables, the Lord's Prayer no less obviously into two dis- tinct classes of petitions. The first table of the Decalogue prescribes our duty to God ; the sec- ond our duty to our fellow-men. And similarly the first section of the Lord's Prayer contains petitions for God's honour, kingdom, and service ; the second section petitions for the supply of man's wants. We are apt to think our whole duty discharged, if we have been blameless in our conduct towards our fellow-men. But the Law of God corrects that error with a high hand, teaching us that the most fundamental duty of man, that which has the earliest claim upon him, is "to love the Lord his God with all his heart, and with all his mind. dqjfadfrom th>- Dialogue* 91 and with all I, and with all his strength. '' ■, similarly, we axe apt t<» think that in pra thing more than the supply our own needs, bread, m 1 so i. Hut the Lord's I'nu i i a high hand, teaching oa thi honour, Eh cause and aervioe, Ik to the b< .! hifl own needs. And to to particulars, there is no one who does not see the marked resemblance be- Tbird Oommandment ("Thou shalt take the Name of the Lord thy God in vain"; and tlie first petition of the Lord's Prayer ( w Sal- lowed be Thy Name"). The Commandment pro- hibits that, the opposite of which the Prayer solicits. We are forbidden not to te God's ie : and we pray that we may consecrate or hallow it. When we sincerely, in a spirit of love and reverence, call God " our Father," we fulfil the •mmandment, pr o fessing I Jim to be our God, and repudiating all other. When we . with the spirit and with the understanding hieh art in Heaven," we fulfil the second Commandment; for hereby we indicate that the God we wor&hip ia in Keaven, beyond the barri of gross matter, and that therefore we must harbour any sensuous conception of IJim, or m material representation. Thus the invocation 92 AnldU Word of the Lord's Prayer embodies the two first Com- mandments. And the first petition which follows the invocation is an echo of the third. The extreme form of sin forbidden by this Commandment is perjury ; a solemn calling upon God to attest that which we well know to be false. But the spirit and principle of the precept forbids also all profaneness of expression ; and I cannot help pointing to the ground assigned for the pro- hibition, as remarkably illustrating the fact ad- verted to in our last Chapter, namely, the serious estimate of words which Almighty God, and those w r ho are the exponents of His mind and will, seem to form. " For the Lord will not hold him guilt- less that taketh His Name in vain." The Law- giver seems to glance at a different estimate of this subject, popular and current among those on whom the restriction is laid. It is as if He had said, " Man may hold words in no account — may deem them a wind that passeth away, and cometh not again. What can be the harm, he may ask, of a word spoken against conviction, and with a mental reservation, if the sentiments of the heart be right ? We cannot suppose that for so slight a thing as a word God will judge us, though we could easily conceive that He might do so for neg- lect of His Worship, or any practical disrespect shown to His Ordinances." In answer to these reasoning of the Datura] heaitj God as that He will l»v do d id him guiltiest that takctb His Name in vain. 1 1 1 : will by DO D* do BO) however man illicit act ; fend IK' will 7ffaw, that IS, He will account profaneneas of I to be a se- offenee. current profanenooaoB of (Uprooaion, into which Christians, good and serious in the main, aright he entrapped from want of reflection, or in a moment of excitement, arc as folk* 1. All ; :011s which take the form of an Oath, whether the name of the true Qod he intro- duced in them or not ; all ejaculations in BUrpriae ment, wliich imply an invocation of Cod. The original design of the Commandment probahlv to draw a hroad line of demarcation hc- n the peculiar people of God, and those con- tiguous heathen nations (the Egyptians specially) ly interlarded their disoonTBe with the names of their deities, I>is, Apis, Jupiter, II a certain extent the pre- fect; for the Jews never allowed the name Jehovah (meaning the Self-existent One, or Sf that was and that is, and that is to © pass their lips. When they came across it in the Old Testament, as they did in every page, I another word of lower import, not ex- 94 An Idle Word clusively appropriated to God; nor was it ever lawful to pronounce this sacred Name except for the High Priest once a year on the great day of Atonement, when he announced forgiveness to the people in the name of JeJwvah. But while in this formal superstitious manner they observed the letter of the Commandment, they — at least in the later period of their history — evaded its spirit, and when God Incarnate came among them, He found them using all manner of conversational oaths, swearing by heaven, by the earth, by the Temple, by Jerusalem, and so forth, in all which forms of speech they recognized no guilt. It is against this practice that our Lord directs His precept in the Sermon on the Mount : " But I say unto you, Swear not at all ; neither by heaven ; for it is God's throne : nor by the earth ; for it is His footstool : neither by Jerusalem ; for it is the city of the great King. Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou canst not make one hair white or black ;" a precept which is echoed, almost in the terms in which it was issued, by the Apostle James : " But above all things, my breth- ren, swear not, neither by heaven, neither by the earth, neither by any other oath ; but let your yea be yea, and your nay nay, lest ye fall into condemnation." It is singular what a hold conversational oaths defined from the Decalogue* 95 have taken of the minds of men In all ages and countries alike ; what ■
  • ur I controversial times, when a great public interest !t in Bubj religion. We do not be':' tliat the depth of thi at all proportion- ate t«» its universality. What men hare much on their ifl Beldom a very iinn root in :• minds: — and it is just this cunil )ination of ihh Ik with shallowness of feeling (aochar- ic of our dav) which constitutes our dan Theologj Dflaionfl are so common iiuw-a-days, that the words which denote the hi- of Religion have become mere counters, passed about from hand to hand with a fatal facility. As coins which are in continual currency lose the Sov- image originally impressed upon them, so that we can no longer tell to what reign the\ long ; so these religious words, being bandied about continually, lose all the f. of their original sign . and convey hardly more of idea the minds of the persons using them than an al braical formula. Hen will talk about the Ed ration of Scripture, Baptismal Regeneration, the Sacrament of the Altar, the Powers of the Chris- 100 An Idle Ward tian Ministry, the Miracles of Our Lord, His Divine Sonsliip, the doctrine of the Blessed Trinity, with- out ever pausing for a moment to consider the deep reality of the things on which their conversa- tion is turning, — without the thought crossing them that their tongue is making its sallies in the region of the supernatural. Who ever came away from an ordinary controversial discussion, feeling that he was the better for it, or with an impression of the solemnity of Divine things abiding on his spirit ? Who ever came away without feeling that the dignity of the subject had been somewhat im- paired by the rude friction against his neigh- bour's views which his own views had sustained ? And what is the reason of this result ? The reason is that, in the warmth of the discussion, both parties have forgotten the reality of the things which were upon their lips ; both have in a measure (though quite unconsciously, and probably with no worse motive than that of mutual improvement) " taken the Name of the Lord their God in vain." To talk suitably and profitably about Divine things is no such easy matter as might be supposed. It de- mands a certain state of heart which is not by ordinary Christians realized, except in happy mo- ments. It demands recognition of God's Presence, of the mysteriousness of His Nature, and of all truths concerning Him, and of the limitations dqfintdfrom th* Dtoa&ogue* L01 imposed up uman understanding mind m ipping rather than a ; nl*1 Truth is most i with tli tending, bul with the heart ; and he who allows him- a:i intellectual game of the pursail it coold be woo by mere dialectical fencing, the wrong end, and misses b gather of it- i Sect. of Sir Isaac Newton, a: told of Boyle, that he n ■:i\vrsati«>n without a visible j •:. or stop, and that, if he were covered at tl he commonly also raised bifl hat from his 1 : how mucli it is to be desired in these d of Religious Conferences and Church Congresses, when fluent mention of God and Divine thing certain circles is so much in vogue, that men would cultivate the same spirit which expressed itself by • outward visible signs? How much it ; be desired, even if the only point to be secured were the edification of man ! For a controversial dis- cussion, conducted with a seriousness suitable to the subjects on which it turns, could not h rimonious discussion. A heart solemnized by the thought of God's Presence is in a calm state, — is in communion with the Fountain of Truth and Love, and cannot easily fulminate an anathema, or e 102 An Idle Word provoke a difference of opinion. But how much more desirable does such a state of mind appear, when we remember that not only the danger of dissension with man has to be guarded against, but that also of offence to the Majesty of Heaven ! Sins against Society are light as compared with those against God, and are to a certain extent remedia- ble by Society itself, according to that profound word of the old priest : " If one man sin against another, the judge shall judge him : but if a man sin against the Lord, who shall entreat for him % " 4. We have spoken of Reverence in handling Divine Truth; but there is another sentiment, distinct from, and yet intimately blended with Reverence, with which it should be handled, — I mean that sentiment of fervour, of love, and de- light, to which the name of unction is usually given. Surely it is doing a great wrong to the greatest of all themes, if we speak of God in a dry, cold, hard manner, without any feeling of the surpassing beauty, amiability, and attractiveness of His Character. A Being whose heart is a Fountain of pity and of sympathy with H*is meanest creatures, and whose tenderness for His rational creatures is so unspeakably great, that, sooner than they should perish, He consented to the Sacrifice of His Son ; a Being who, in His in- exhaustible bounty, yearns and longs to communi- . '•/•',■, ] fi ■ t!,. I > ■' [/■■■ . 103 far nd i irni ifter union, with man in particular, that to effect this union, Ee » OUT Nature D Him, an«l Irit to make us partal Nature, — a Father of lights, from whom ] v scintillatio:: loiD and truth which has I D struek out, and a God Love IH whom every pure ami t> | ntres, — such a One should not be lUUII in a loving and fervent spirit, with the feeling that, if we had the tongues of : ■ exalt Ilini with, wo could m tell forth His praise. Such an in- finitely good, wise, and tender Father one would wiflh never to think of without a drawing of heart towards Him, and therefore never ipeak of except in terms which might commend Him to the listeners. It is a high attainment to ik of God thus in familiar discourse, but not ond the reach of any man who will set about it in the right way. It is not to be done by un- natural .-training alter a pious sentiment, and in- jecting it into the ear of a casual listener. The speech which ministers grace to the hearers is never forced, but flows naturally from the exuberance of a heart full charged with its subject ; it from* a fountain, not water forced up by niacin: Id much and fervent communion with God; 104 An Idle Word and let this communion consist not so much in direct prayer, as in meditation on His glorious and lovely attributes, as they are fully revealed to us in the Gospel. This meditation, if persisted in, will gradually beget what I shall call a gravitation of the mind towards God, a thrill of joy' when any new wonder in His works or His Word is revealed to us, and of delight when He is honoured and glorified. And this state of mind will transpire occasionally — with some oftener, with others more rarely, according to the greater or less unreserve of the character, — in simple but fervent words spoken to those around us, which, coming from the heart of the speaker, and having a savour of heavenly affections, which commends them, are very likely to go to the heart of the listener. Thus shall we not only refrain from taking the Name of the Lord our God in vain, but shall do something towards the fulfilment of the precept on its positive side, by " hallowing the Name " of our Father which is in Heaven. 5. And now, in conclusion, we must exhibit this positive side of the precept a little more fully. In order to which it will be necessary to observe the connexion which subsists between the com- mandments of the first Table. We know that they are all summed up in the one precept of "loving the Lord our God with all our heart, and defined from the Deoaloj L05 with all OUT BOUl, Mid with all OUT mind, and with all < / , Now this devoted love of God must necessarily involve the following obliga- : — . An obligation to worship Him only, to i nsion of pleasure, money, distinct! or any other objed to which men give their hearts. This is the obligation prescribed hy the I Oommandment Secou'lhj. An obligation to worship Him in it and in truth, not leaning upon material •lis, or impressions derived from the -es. This is the obligation prescribed by the Second Commandment. . An obligation to worship Ilim, in a tain sense, unceasingly, by continually realiz- ing His i •. and gravitating towards Him in our inmost souls. This is the obligation pre- • v the Third Oommandment, And fourthly. An obligation to devote a cer- tain portion of our time to direct acts of worship. This last precept is the antidote and corrective of an error, which possibly might be insinuated by the Third, For it might be asked: "If the mind is never allowed to lose the consciousness of God's Presence, is not this sufficient hum without any distinct acts of worship?" The Fourth Commandment answers this question in 106 An Idle Word the negative, affirming the principle that God has a claim upon our time, and that this claim must be acknowledged by surrendering a certain por- tion of it to Worship, Public and Private. — But to return to the Third Commandment. I am not denying that forcible restraints upon the tongue are good, or that they are necessary as steps by which we may mount up to the spiritual fulfilment of this precept. But I do say that the precept, understood in its length and breadth, in- volves something far beyond these restraints. It cannot be thoroughly fulfilled without an habitual consciousness of God's Presence, and intimate nearness to each one of us. " Thy Name also is so nigh." " I am always by Thee." Let this consciousness preside in the soul ; and an irrever- ent word becomes at once an impossibility. We have already seen that it is only when a man is off his guard, and does not care for his company, that such words escape him. If he were in a royal presence, nay, even if he were in the presence of a child or a woman, or, in short, of any one to whom respect is felt to be due, he would, almost without an effort, refrain from profane language. Then if he can bring himself to the remembrance that God's Eye is always upon him, that this Su- preme Object of reverence and love hears every word he says, and registers every idle' word, this /A •,/',. li>7 tliontrlit will njn .I-.' rule could do, to secure the fulfilment of the preoept Seek, then, this consciousness of God's Presence. Bay often in thine heart. M Thou God 86681 me; n M II;; • here looked after Him that seeth nic!" practice of pouring momentarily In bonneae or ation, to realize God's T : the rudiment ion* in the Primer of Religion, Which fa CUB tO walk by faith and not by :. Be thoroughly rooted and grounded in this lesson. Make it the maxim of your spiritual life. And you shall soon learn to live more nearly as you pray, when you pray, as you do daily, that, the "Name of our Father who is in Heaven may Mowed." CHAPTER VI. WHAT IS AN IDLE WOKD ? 44 3Ebcrr> i&le toorti tfjat men st)all spcaft, tijes s|)all sibe account thereof fa tlje trai> of Ju&flment."— Matt. xii. 36. The sin of idle words is censured by Our Lord in the most awful terms. It behoves us, there- fore, to ascertain exactly what is meant by idle words, — lest we should add any thing to, or di- minish any thing from, His holy commandment. Nor let any one imagine that such minute in- vestigations of the language of Holy Scripture as we now propose, are wanting in interest. Holy Scripture is the expression of the mind of the Spirit. He, therefore, who sifts a Greek or He- brew phrase occurring in the Old or 'New Testa- ment, with the view of ascertaining its fine shades of significance, is investigating the sublimest of all subjects — he is exploring, as far as man may ex- plore, the thoughts of Almighty God. 109 w Every Idle word." Our first mle, in seeking to understand a pas- sage of Scripture, must always be to ii in connexion with its context. "What the: <«t' these words of our Lord I I which the words in t the Holy Ghost (tjtov Ilvev- [larog PZxicKprrinia), and embraces also the warn- ing against idle words that is contained in our Now at first sight, it is natural to suppose that by idle words are meant such as the Pharisees 110 What is an Idle Word f had just vented — words of blasphemy against the Holy Ghost. And it is not difficult to perceive what kind of words those were. The Pharisees, like the multitude, were internally convinced of the Messiahship of Jesus by the miracle which they had witnessed. But it would have been in- convenient to them to have acknowledged His claims. By doing so, they would have to retract their whole previous career — to place themselves (after the fashion of Mary) at His feet, as His dis- ciples. This would have humbled the pride of those ecclesiastical rulers, and such an humiliation they could not brook. So, without honestly be- lieving their own explanation, they attributed the cure of the blind and dumb man to the agency of Satan. It was a sujyernatural cure — that they admitted — but there are, said they, supernatural evil agencies as well as supernatural good ones, — and this particular miracle is due to the first of these causes. It might have occurred to them (probably it did occur to them in the deep of their hearts), that this was a flimsy and trans- parently false explanation— that, on no recognized principle of craft or policy, could the Devil cast out his own agents. Yes, such an account would not serve the turn ; — it was a dishonest shuffle, and they knew it to be so, to avoid making a confession which was irre- / " 111 :!>ly forced upon their minds, bill which would b Involved them in oonsequenccs from which their pride and jealousy shrunk. And thin came in the corrupt special pleading, BO natural to the human mind under ffOoh circum- stances, — 'II y/M)na ntt<,'>u<>\\ ij ft 0p*)v arw/ioroc. "After, all, though I am giving an explanation which I do not believe— with which I am not sat- fafied myself — which finds no response what' in my convictions, — yet these are hut words, the ,th of the lips, lightly uttered and soon forgot* -my mind recognizes the truth, though I can- not bring my tongue to confes- The eye of II im, who knew what W9B in man, i this reasoning at the bottom of their and down came the lighting of His censure to brush and blast a fallacy so dangerous. " Who- soever speaketh a word against the Son of Man" (without violating internal convictions, — like Paul before his conversijn, who spake many things inst the Son of Man, but spake them ignorant- ly in unbelief), "it shall be forgiven him — but whosoever speaketh against the Holy Ghost" (violate- those internal convictions of Truth, which are wrought in the mind by the Holy Spirit), M it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, neither in the world to come." As if the Lord had said: "Your Language is not, as you vainly im- 112 What is an Idle Word? agine, a separate and separable thing from your Rea- son : it has a deep and living connexion with your state of mind. Language and Reason have their fibres twined up together, — so that a corrupt Lan- guage argues a corrupt Reason." And then follows our passage, introduced by the formula But I say unto you : — " Every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give ac- count thereof in the day of judgment." JSow is the idle word to be explained simply and solely by the Uasphe?ny preceding? If so, the warning, — though still an awful one, — will scarcely possess a general applicability; for the number of those is few, whose circumstances re- semble the circumstances of the Pharisees. The nearest approach to the same sin now-a-days, would be the case of an Indian Brahmin, men- tally convinced of the truth of Christianity, but inventing arguments to explain it away from the fear of losing caste. Similar cases would rare- ly occur in countries professing Christianity, — though even here men might sin, after a measure, on much the same principle. But we think there are reasons for giving to these solemn words a far more extended applica- bility. First, they are introduced by a formula, which will be found, I think, to indicate a transition What it rdf II. applica- tion, the word translated " bu1 " baying the G ■ >\r,—fi ,-. Tim mi the Mount many times: •• N , ; Baid by them of old time, Thou .-halt not forswear tin but shall perform unto the Lord thine paths. I I say unto ■> (5t Aeycj v/«*>), Bwear not all." In other i make the precept of the Law mor Lvely applicable Again : M Ye bave heard that it has been by them of old time. Thou shah not commit adul- 10 you" (tyo) 61 / i ■■) — the Law truly interpreted imposes a far wider raint than this, — " Whosoever looketh on a ian to Inst after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart." Again ; in commendation of the centurion of Capernaum, it is said : " Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no not in Israel : i I say unto you (Aryw de vfuv), that ni 1 come from the east and west, and shall sit down witli Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the king heaven." Observe. -hall .c — I limit not my speech to tin's centurion — I assert it as an universally applicable truth, that many, whom ye look down upon as dogs and sinners of the Gentiles, shall be admitted to a 114 What is an Idle Word? glorious and intimate communion with the first founders of your race. And again : " Have ye not read in the Law, how that on the sabbath days the priests in the Temple profane the Sabbath, and are blameless % " (their profanation of the Sabbath is excused by the fact that it is committed in the course of their attendance on the Temple. My disciples, there- fore, supposing they were attending on the Tem- ple, might be excused for some profanations of the Sabbath.) "But I say unto you" (Aeyw 6e vfuv), " that in this place is One greater than the Tem- ple." (My disciples are plucking the ears of corn, in course of their attendance upon me : how much more does that excuse the act.) Thus we perceive that the phrase in question introduces a transition to a stronger, more em- phatic, or more general assertion. But the same conclusion will follow from ex- amining the word rendered u idle" (dpX6g). According to its derivation, this word means not working — (d-tpyov). If we refer to other places in which it occurs, we shall find that it is used of the labourers, whom the lord of the vineyard saw standing idle (dpyol) in the market-place. Here it must mean simply unoccupied, disengaged. Again, St. Paul employs it to denote that hanging about upon -117 TdU Word? LIB which is so opposed to Ohrisl nestness in work, and which £068 together with gossip and euri- A.dl the Becond marriage of widows he says that it' unmarried, "they learn t«> ' ( a W a ')> adoring about from house to house; and not \ idle, but tattler- also and busyhndies, speak' things which they ought not." (I quote conte rive at a well-dclined, nicclv- elled apprehension of the Scriptural meai of the word.) Then again a no Epimeni- des i I in the Epistle to Titus, in which the Ore: said to be "slow bellies "(] :f). The substantive would probably indicate their gluttony ; the adjective their want of e\ . their indolence. Finally, St. Peter, in hi the word with aitap- ttoc, unfruitful. Christians, who exhibit Christian graces in abundance, are said to be, ovk dpyol ovdk diiap-oi, k * neither barren- nor unfruitful." 'Apybc then is a term which might be applied to unpro- ductive ground — to that soil which, though drink- ■• in the rain that eoineth oft upon it,bringeth forth herbs meet for them by whom it is dressed." Hence,-.: ren fig-tree it is said — ivari Kal rtjvyjjv Karapyel ; " Why a&0CUniber«'th it the ground?" Why, besides being unfruitful itself, doth it drain away the of the soil, 116 What is an Idle Word f which might go to feed a fruit-bearing tree, and so render the ground inoperative, unproductive, unfruitful ? Now, the words of the Pharisees were not simply useless, unfruitful, unprofitable words ;— but far worse. They were false words — they counteracted conviction — their fault was not that of omission — they were positively bad, mischiev- ous, and wicked words. They were a lie in the teeth of conviction, and they were calculated to do harm, to mislead the ignorant people who looked up to their authority. Hence we infer that when Our Lord condemns idle words, He is going a step beyond that sin of blasphemy upon which His censure had at the outset of the dis- course so heavily fallen — and that our text, ren- dered so as to exhibit the emphatic transition, would run thus — " Nay, I even say unto you, that every idle word " (not merely every false and blasphemous, but " every idle word) that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment." Nor is there any thing which need surprise us, in this strictness of the Christian Law on the sub- ject of words. It is strictly in accordance with the general tenour of Evangelical Precept. "We are often instructed that that precept cannot be satisfied by innocuousness — that we are required 117 do! merely I d from barm, bill to do posi- good. of the Tal- I and the I > ouim : who hid talent in a napkin, who did not give it to the chat bo did not put it out to int. call at 1 »ut his wickedness was no wickedness after the i timate. It con- 1 simply in slothfulness: — had harmlessness i the criterion of worth, the servant being per- bly harmless, would have passed without c But God gives u> talent- for an end. abilities, n , influence, opportnnitiefl . which lie bestows, arc desig to j . And if they do not further that re idle, fruitless, unprofitable, — if they fulfil not their function, and bring no nue to the good of man, and the glory of God, — condemnation ensues as surely and as sternly a had been misemployed. Indeed, : which was designed for em- ployment — this is to misemploy it. May God eradicate out of the hearts of all of us that worldly, false, and mischievous notion, — that we may neglect the opportunities afforded waste our time, and leave our talents uncultivated, and -counted in the sight of God to have whole a pure life. T! the very well, if we were to be judged at the Last 118 What is cm Idle Word f Day by the World, — by the society in which we have moved. The world does account harmless- ness for goodness. If a man has done no harm, the world is content with him, the requirements of society are satisfied. But we are to be judged by One, who has not the smallest regard to the verdict of society, or the estimate of man. We are to stand before the tribunal of the Lord Jesus Christ, — and there to render to Him an account how we have observed His Law. The Word that He hath spoken, the same shall judge us in the last day. We have that Word in our hands — it is sounded in our ears continually. Does He in that Word ever lead us to expect — does He ever give us the slightest intimation — that He will be satisfied with an amiable harmlessness ? Yerily, I trow not. Every thing which He says on the subject is in the teeth of this notion. He pro- claims the principle of His dealing with us to be this — That wherever He has bestowed a talent, He expects a revenue from it — He expects that we shall put it out to interest, and bring this interest into His treasury. Apply now this principle to words. Is not the gift of words a talent ? Is there any talent so wonderful as words, — which are the living prod- uce of the Keason ? And are not words a talent adapted to secure the highest of all ends ? May 119 we not bless God therewith : M ach Gospel, and communicate wholesome instxne- ith i May wc not edify bun. th { May v. irry 00 k>m tlierewith i ! not therewith and ivlax the mind l>y disc.'!; it, which is •ly allied to wisdom { ' not lighten another man's burden therewith, and lift up the 1 that droops therewith, and present to the mind pictures of truth and beauty therewith, and drop h, which shall be of gi nghta and of lofty Impulses? And If the talent of words may be made thus Largely line, it was no doubt deri rto The blessing of God, the edification and nent of are its final causes, the objects which it v. med to sub- . then, if, when I stand be- fore the Judgment Seat, an account is required of me how I hi dent — if I am asked whether I hcax blessed God, have instructed or entertained man, have spoken a word in due son to the weary, have thrown out good suc- tions, hare advocated holy objects therewith — and if upon every word which has not conduced to any of these purposes (then brought to my mem- ory with an instantaneousness more than electric) 120 What is an Idle Word f should be pronounced by the Son of Man the censure idle ? In short, is there any thing more than the intimation, that we are expected dili- gently to improve all our talents, in the solemn words of our passage : iC Nay, I even say unto you that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judg- ment " ? In the next Chapters we will consider more in detail the final causes of the talent of words : for unless those final causes are well defined in our minds, we shall not be able to apprehend the subject in detail, however much possessed of a clear gene- ral notion of its meaning. But, before closing our present Chapter, let us reflect that we have ascertained this clear general notion. It is a solemn thing — this ascertaining of Our Lord's meaning in a matter bearing so im- mediately upon our daily practice. So long as the meaning is a little cloudy, and wrapped up in doubt and difficulty, we might think perhaps that if we do not fully carry out the precept, it is because we do not entirely understand it. But I am afraid that the meaning is too clear in this in- stance, for the precept to be thus evaded. What the passage condemns is useless words, words conducive neither to instruction nor to in- nocent entertainment — words having no salt of wit What is an Idle Ward? 121 or wisdom in them — flat, stale, dull, and unprofit- -thrown out to while away the time, to till up a spare five minutes, — words that aiv not o Herat 0(1 by any seriousness Of purpose whatever. Now that w< rly what is forbid- den, wo must gird oanelfti earnestly to the ob- be restriction. Remember upon Whose authority the rot rict ion rests. Remember it || the : .Jesus who Speaks. This leaves no room for evasion. The command may lie hard, may be difficult of execution; but impossible it is not, 01 Be would not have commanded it — and difficult though it be, lie irives grace if we seek it, more than commensurate to the difficulty. WeD, then, I see plainly that a new duty has i brought home to my conscience, aud that I must begin to-morrow clearing away out of my talk every weed and useless growth — every thing vapid, useless, aimless, idle. Said I every weed and useless growth ? are there not in the mouths of some (despite all the refinement of modern society) words positively evil and noxious? Do not many use the tongue in swearing, which should be employed in blessing God ? Do not many employ that faculty which was given for the purpose of edification, in corrupt ing others by mean- of words, and in spreading round them a moral pestilence? the sentence against 6 122 What is an Idle Word? idle words is awful enough. But for him, who taints the soul of another by communicating to him the venom of a foul imagination, for him, and such as him, there remains a censure, which seems to exhaust the righteous indignation of Him Who is Love: — "Woe unto that man by whom the offence cometh : rr were better for him that a MILLSTONE WERE HANGED ABOUT HIS NECK, AND HE CAST LNTO THE SEA, THAN THAT HE SHOULD OFFEND ONE OF THESE LITTLE ONES." ( IIAPTER VII. WORDS OF BUSINESS AND ENNOOENT RECREATION NOT IDLi:. "Bbrr* iilc toort)."— Matt, xii. We are at present engaged in the minute ex- amination of the solemn censure, passed by Our Lord upon idle words. I suppose my readers to be deeply impressed with the necessity of following out the Lord's will, when it is ascertained. I suppose them will- ing and desirous to observe such restraints as He lays upon them. I suppose the tone of their mind in regard to His precepts to be justly expressed by the words of the Blessed Virgin to the servants at the marriage festival, — " Whatsoever He saith unto yon, do it." Our question on the pre- occasion is, what He does say ? In prosecuting this inquiry, we have already seen that the word rendered " idle" is very appro- 124 Words of Business cmd priately so rendered — that it is susceptible of ap- plication to any person or thing which does not perform its proper business, and so fulfil the prop- er end of its existence. Words then are idle, which do not fulfil the proper end of the existence of words. We may remark, in general, that what consti- tutes the excellence or virtue of any thing is, that it should fulfil its proper end. A few simple instances will suffice to make this clear. The end of an orchard — the business which we expect it to fulfil — is to bring forth fruit. The end of a flower-garden is to gratify the senses of sight and smell. The end of a watch is to keep the time truly. The end of memory is to present us with a faithful picture of the past. The end of an elec- tric telegraph is to convey news with rapidity. If the orchard brings forth a meagre crop, — if the garden presents a poor and ill-arranged assort- ment of colours, — if the watch is ever losing or gaining, — if the memory is ever letting points of importance drop, — if the telegraph is so ill- worked, or so fractured, that the instantaneous conveyance of intelligence is impeded, — we call it, as the case may be, a bad orchard, or a bad garden, or a bad watch, or a bad memory, or a bad telegraph, — implying thereby that we regard that thing as good, which fulfils its proper business or function. ITJITIVBRSITT Recreation not late* What then is the proper function of words, — -id for which they were «^ivimi, — by fulfilling which ti ■ ore of being idle words? The first and perhape paiison)the low- ad of words, IB to car/ busmen A moment's thought will show as, that the m< ordinary and most essential transactions can kiried on without words. Lite would bo at a standstill without them. Think how unpossi aid be to carry out any common project Of ho took it in hand were sud- denly struck dumb. Remember how impossible it proved to oontinne the building of the To. of Bftbel, when bj the confusion of tongues the builders were precluded from the use of a com- mon language. And without some amount of •ination, mutual assistance, and co-operation, thing could be effected. Men are so ktely one body, that they have need of one another's services many times in each day. The service of course often consists of 6ome common of information, which one man i ..!', another not. Still it is a service ; it invol the principle of mutual assistance, and in the ab- sence of words it could not be rendered. You walk through the iields, and a peasant, who has no clock but that of the heavens to govern his 126 Words of Business and arrangements by, asks you the time. You walk through the city, and an officer of justice, in pur- suit of a criminal, asks you whether you have seen a person of such a description as you came along on such a road. You want a book of reference for immediate use ; long before you can procure it from a bookseller, the occasion for it will have passed away : but you may have it by speaking a few words ; for your neighbour pos- sesses it, and will lend it to you, if you ask him. ISTow conceive in all these cases what a serious impediment to the business of life it would be, if the person in want of assistance, or the person questioned for information, were deprived of the use of Language, or were sullenly to refuse to speak. Carry out this hypothesis to its ultimate results, and you would deal a death-blow at mu- tual supply and demand, at commerce and ex- change, at all the arts of civilized life, — nay, you would destroy the whole system of the republic (by which word I now mean, not any particular form of government, but the system of society and of life in common), and would reduce man to the level of a solitary creature, — to the condition of the hermit, who plucks berries for his food, dips his potsherd in the stream, wattles his own hut, and patches up a garment of leaves, like our first parents after their fall. 127 ■ mm and BUl of wliat lias ' is this : Men a' ointment, a com- munity — "one body. 3 mutual dep of the members of a community upon one and ae rapid means of communication be- moans of communication or- dained by God for this purpose is Language. I . guage, thriven', may be not only innocently, but idabfy, used in carrying on the business of life. Assuredly it is no idle word, it', when I want information to guide my arrangements, I ask for it, or if, when I am BoHcited for SOCh information, I Midi words are to the point, — I mean, if they are not made the for indulging in gossip, and throwing away precious moments — I r th> //■ confronting me at the Day of Judgment. Probably, reader, you think that tin's is a very needless admonition. Nay, but I am anxious to ascertain very definitely, by way of guiding our consciences, what wor omitted to us and what arc forbidden. How are we to ex- lves on the idle words we have used, so long as wc have but a vague notion of what is meant by an idle word ? >nd end which words should fulfil, and for which they were no doubt designed, is to re- and entertain the m It is a trite saying, but no less true than it is 128 Words of Business and trite, that tlie mind requires refreshment. One strain of serious occupation or of earnest thought, cannot be maintained for any length of time, and an attempt made to maintain it, in despite of the constitution of our nature, would probably, if per- sisted in, issue in the wreck of our mental powers. The mind, like the body, cannot endure a long-con- tinued pressure ; and man, therefore, being in need of recreation (and that, in virtue of his original constitution, without reference to the sin he has superinduced upon it), we should expect to find him furnished with some resource, — a resource, mark you, in himself, and not in external circum- stances, for mental refreshment. Most wisely, therefore, and most beneficently has it been or- dained that he shall carry about with him such a resource in the tongue, — the instrument of recrea- tion as well as of business, of refreshment as well as of instruction. Similarly, in his bodily constitution there is a provision for the recreation of his physical frame. The power of moving the limbs, — of taking exercise of any description, — no doubt conduces to the more serious ends of carrying on mutual communication, and so of forwarding the business of life. But this same exercise, taken in the open air, under fresh breezes and gleams of sunshine, and among the ever-shifting sceneries of nature, is also a physical eation. Think of t lie operative, whose nimble fingi plying ill day amid machinery, and giving abundant testimony to the wonderful BkOfulnees with which thehnman hand : for the purpose of the useful arte: le same limbs at work on a fine luttv '> evening amid the i Bounds of nature, — let him pluck daisies to weave a fan- tastic garland, ox toss himself among the sweet hay, or simply walk through the fields of do and watch the sun descend in a hla/.c of gold, — this is the very refreshment which his frame jaded by the protracted labours of the day, demands, and which we of the upper classes, whose luxi; purchased by his toils, are bound to see that he has at least the opportunity of enjoy! Now analogous to exercise for recreation's sake in the physical frame of man, is the use of the jue for the entertainment of the mind. The method of mental entertainment readiest to hand, — that which nature herself furnishes independent- ly of all extrinsic resources, — is by the tongue. "Iron sharpeneth iron: so a man sharpen eth the countenance of his friend," — a very expressive text, and one which speaks for itself. When the countenance is dulled and blunted by the hard and dry business of life, what is it which communicates to it the spark of animation, which makes it dawn 6* 130 Words of Business Mid once again with intelligence, which brings out that characteristic gleam, which probably lies hidden in every countenance, which it is the artist's skill to catch and to perpetuate upon canvas, but which no solar picture (taken as such likenesses are by machinery, and without an operation of the artifi- cer's mind) ever did or ever will catch ? " A man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend." The simple collision of mind with mind, not on arduous subjects, or serious business, but upon ordinary and lighter topics, — the simple interchange of thoughts without reserve, and the freedom and gaiety of common intercourse, — acts as the greatest relief, to one whose attention and thoughts have been kept on the stretch by study or business. The excellence of such conversation — that which renders it good of its kind, and suitable to the ful- filment of its end — is Wit. Do not be surprised at hearing such a thing advocated (and I am prepared deliberately to advocate it), in an essay, whose purport is religious. If there were more of the salt of wit in our ordinary conversation, its general vapid nature would be corrected,— it would turn less upon the character, conduct, plans, and arrangements of our neighbours, — topics upon which perhaps it can never turn with any profit, and upon which it rarely turns without trenching hard upon sin. It is to be deplored that there is so In nocerd Recreat 1 1 1 1 little wit in the world, not that there li bo much ; In default of wit it \s thai of tlu' mind, so:: tpty gossip, and some by fonl and obscene c ion, whi< - in them the deadly gangrene of impure Inst It d often said that Wit and Wisdom are twin me. They are BO nearly al- lied, that one might almost say f feme faculty, operating at its different poles. u \Y r it," says Aristotle, " is the ooneeption of inoongrtri- ." And is not wisdom the perception Of har- monies? What is the p er c e p ti on of analogies running through all the firioufl departments of nature, — the domain of sight, the domain of sound, the domain of touch, ! — but wisdom or philosophy I What is a parable, but the exhibition of a har- mon; iating between God's works of Grace on the one hand, and His works of Nature or Providence on the other? Is there any wise work in any department of literature, art, or science, which is not ultimately founded on the apprehen- sion of harmonies, — the discrimination of true and harmonies from those which are false and shallow and superlicial I Now would not he who harmonies most readily, have also the heal discernment of incongruities? He who has the liveliest faculty of comparison, must he 1 See the Note at the end of the Chapter. 132 Words of Business and not also have the liveliest faculty of contrast? He who is keenly alive to congruities, must he not be alive also to incongruities ? Or, in other words, must not he who has in him wisdom, pos- sess wrapped up in that very gift the kindred faculty of wit ? And it is pleasing to see in experience, that oftentimes the men of most depth and seriousness of character — the men who in their closets have taken the most earnest view of life and have cul- tivated heavenly Wisdom most largely, have also been men of lively fancy, sprightly and agreeable repartee — seem to have had within them a spring of joy and merriment bubbling up, when the ob- struction of serious affairs was removed, and cov- ering with fertility even the leisure hours of their lives. The world's wisest men have mingled mirth with earnestness, — they have not gone about with starched visage, prim manner, or puritanical grim- ace. If they have been deeply enwrapped (as the holiest and best men always are enwrapped) in the shadows and clouds of life, — they have ever and anon walked in its lights, — have not despised those gleams of merriment which shoot athwart our path, as a relief from the pressure and burden of our work and responsibilities. Which of us, man or boy, has half the playful- ness of the poet Cowper ? Which of us can write a tottOT UkQ him, — e sparkling with sallies that never wound, b«1Hi elaborated, • framed of set purpose, hut thrown off in the atte- nd buoyancy of high spirits, thrown off limply, graceful '1 whir' man approach him in the earnestness of his retigionn feelings — which of na views sin in colours half so dark as it wore to his eyes, 01 equally prepared in ntind to apprehend that I. of God in Christ, which stands out against the hlack mass of human guilt as a rainhow Against the thunder-cloud! Tin iv is, however, one passage of Scripture, which, 00 first Bight, seems adverse to what I have said, and which requires explanation, before I quit this branch of the subject. In the Epi to the Ephesians, St. Pan] appears to forbid, under the comprehensive term "jesting," every species of pleasantry. His words (and that portion of them about which no question can arise ought to be very awful words to many) are these : — " But fornication, and all uncleanness and covetousi; let it not be once named among you as becomeih to jrractice such things does not n the strictness of God's requirements — we are not even to mention them), " neither filthiness nor fool- ish talking," — so far all is char. That such spe- cies of conversation should be forbidden, is in ac- 134: Words of Business and cordance with all that we should expect from the purity of Christian precept. But the Apostle acids, " nor jesting, which are not couvenient ; but rather giving of thanks." JSTow let me again remind my readers that whatever precept the Scripture gives, not only may be carried out by prayer and exer- tion, but must be carried out at all hazards, and that to the letter. God, when He has laid down a Law, will not indulge us in the smallest deviation from it. If in this or any other passage He forbids pleasantry, then pleasantry is a sin — a sin which like any other sin, grievous or slight, requires all the efficacy of Christ's Blood to atone for it, and all the Grace of His Spirit to correct and eradicate it from our hearts. It is a false and wholly un- scriptural view, that God lays down unduly strict rules by way of securing as large an amount of obedience as can be extracted from us, and that the smaller and more harmless infringements of those rules will be by Him overlooked. !N"o infringe- ment of a divine rule is harmless — every such in- fringement is full charged with guilt and misery and eternal ruin. Step out of the paling of the Divine Law at one point, and you place yourself out of the shelter of the whole Law : you are then beyond the reach of mercy, except through a Me- diator. " For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of Innocent Recreation not I 135 all." Let us ascertain t ; !y, whether God does forbid pleasantry; for, in that case, no laugfa of o • ever ring again, no humor.' r proceed from our lips, no smile ever sit upon our countenance. The word translated jesting is evrpanekia. According to its derivation, it p eriy means u versatility n — aptness in taming to anotlier topic, or another resource, when one topic or resonr Unigh exhausted. You see that it' we regard the word according to its origin and nology, no not i*>ii of pleasantry whatever at- tache- to it. Such a notion, however, may 6u quently have gathered round the world, far all that, — and I believe that it did. I have not time to go through the proof of my position. But I appre- hend that ill the former words, u iilthiness and fool- ish talking," the Apostle is forbidding all coarse and empty conversation, — that it then strikes him that something more beyond these has to be forbidden — that there is a kind of conversation very rife among men of the world, and very common in what is termed the mo>t lashioiiahle society, which is not outwardly coarse and obscene (and so not " fil- thiness"), nor yet foolish in the usual sense of foil;. . mixed with quick muendoee and smart repartees (and so not exactly " foolish talking"), but in which im; < s are implied though not expressed, and in which the natural liveliness of 136 Words of Business and parts of one who knows that Society will not toler- ate any thing very gross, vents itself in an insinu- ation, either full of moral mischief, or armed with a sting. " Let there be no coarseness, nor vapid and gossiping conversation, — no, nor even the re- fined, but sinful raillery of the man of fash- ion." Such is, I believe, a fair paraphrase of the passage. 1 The word, if this be its meaning, gives us the salutary warning, that albeit pleasantry itself be no sin, it is under certain circumstances very closely allied with sin. By way of preserving pure this offspring of the heart's merriment, three cautions should be rigidly observed : First ; from all our pleasantry must be ban- ished any, even the remotest, allusion to impurity — which forms the staple of much of this world's wit. Pleasantry should be the fruit of a childlike playfulness, and of a heart buoyant, because it has not the consciousness of guile. If you once make it the vehicle of uncleanness, you foul it at the spring. 1 On turning to Archbishop Trench's Synonyms of the New Testament, I see that he takes this view of the meaning of the word in question. To his excellent work I refer the reader who wishes to follow up the subject. GmoemU Becnaiitm not TdL >. 137 Secondly; al sarcasms as hurt un 'ii, wound his feelings, and giye him unneces- sary' pain, arc absolutely forbidden by the law of (In iti. i : lashes of wit should be like those of the summer lightning, lambent innocuous. Thirdly; all such pleasantries as bri tiling sacred into ridicule — or, without bring] it actually into ridicule, connect with it, in the minds of others, ludicrous associations, so that they can ne\ t, or hear the words, without the ludicrous observation being presci to them, — are carefully to be eschewed. At all times our primary duty, — that which is inalien- ably binding upon us, and from which no plea of entertainment can excuse us, — is to hallow God's Name. Let us close our present remarks, by the pray- er that God would restore to us that purity of heart, which forms the groundwork of a sound and Christian mirth fulness, — that lie would enable us so to believe in the eflicacy of His Son's Blood. to have our conscience sprinkled from all guilt thereby, — that by the operation of Grace Ee would d 11 intention stand aloof from all evil, — so that the burden of nnibrgiven and cher- ished sin may no longer make our hearts to stoop ; but that joyfulness may enter there to be a per- 138 Note. petual guest, and that, whatever we put our hand unto, we may rejoice. NOTE ON CHAPTER VII., p. 131. " What is the perception of analogies running through all the va- rious departments of nature, — the domain of sight, the domain of sound, the domain of touch, — but Wisdom or Philosophy ? " As an example of this perception of analogies, I extract the following passage from the "Advancement of Learning." The Author is speaking of those elementary philosophical axioms, which he calls " Philosophia Prima : " — " Is not the ground, which Machiavel wisely and largely dis- coursed concerning governments, that the way to establish and preserve them, is to reduce them ad principia, a rule in religion and nature, as well as in civil administration ? Was not the Per- sian magic a reduction or correspondence of the principles and architectures of nature to the rules and policy of governments ? Is not the precept of a musician, to fall from a discord or harsh accord upon a concord or sweet accord, alike true in affection ? is not the trope of music, to avoid or slide from the close or cadence, common with the trope of rhetoric of deceiving expec- tation? Is not the delight of the quavering upon a stop in music the same with the playing of light upon the water ? Are not the organs of the senses of one kind with the organs of reflec- tion, the eye with a glass, the ear with a cave or strait deter- mined and bounded ? Neither are these only similitudes, as men of narrow observation may conceive them to be, but the same foot- steeps of nature, treading or printing upon several subjects or matters." CHAPTER VIII. SPEECH THE INSTRUMENT OF PROPHECY AND 8ACRTF1 " 3Lrt tt»c tooiO of Const ctocll in you vicbln in all tois&om : tcarftinfl ano aomouistjinfl our anotijcr in psalms ano Injmns ano spiritual souqs, sinfliiifl uritt) uxacc in your fcearts to ttjc loro."— Got. iii. If. 44 3Wc pat|) maoc us priests."— Rk In our last Chapter, we were engaged in inquir- ing what sort of words Our Lord censures, and war' unfit, under the term "idle." We defined Idle words to be such as do not fulfil th< which the faculty of given. This definition threw us back upon the inquiry : * ' What are the objects or final causes of Language V 9 And the two objects, to the considi which our last I was devoted, were — the carrying on the necessary business of life, and the entertainment of the mind. 140 Speech the Instrument of These are two of the ends, which the gift of Speech was designed to promote, and such words as really promote either of these ends cannot be stigmatized as idle words. But words have higher ends than these ; and what those higher ends may be, we now proceed to consider. St. Paul exhibits these higher ends in the first passage which stands at the head of this Chapter. I believe that in our version it is erroneously punc- tuated, and that it should run thus : " Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly " — [a general exhor- tation, and one having respect to their state of mind ; — the "Word of Christ was to be stored up in their hearts, as water in the treasury of the great deep, and to flow forth from their mouths in a twofold current, — first, a current towards man, irrigating the moral world with fertility,— secondly, a current of thanksgiving and praise, which should pour itself into the Bosom of God] — "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly ; — in all wisdom teaching and , admonishing one another " — (this is the highest use of Speech, as it looks towards man) — " in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing thankfully " (sv #apm sometimes has this meaning) "in your hearts to the Lord " — (this is the highest use of Speech, as it looks towards God). These two ends, then, 1 1 1 may bo shortly stated as being I. EdJ and II. Praise.' Let us say a word of each of them. I. / This word need not bo con- 1 exetariyely to Moral or Spiritual Edifica- tion, It may be made t«> embnu oommit nication of knowledge from man to man. lie who by words throws knowledge into the mind of another, which did not exist there pre- viously, or developes in that mind sonic idea which was latent in it, hut not vet brought t<> the birth, certainly edifies by means of Speech. T! are other kinds of truth beside! Scriptural truth, (why should we liar to admit it?) and lie who communicates to another any kind of truth (wor- thy of the name) is employed in the work of Edu- cation. In a certain important sense, too, all truth is God's message and God's revelation, though not in the same sense in which the Holy Scriptures are. God is said to be the Father of lights— observe, not of one light, but of all lights. Wherever there is light, it is a ray emanating from God. The Scriptures are the organ by which God reveals — not all truth, but — all spiritual truth, — all such truth as pertains to Salvation. Tl. many kinds of truth, not at all bearing Upon the question of Eternal Salvation. And t 1 See the Note at the end of the Chapter. 142 Speech the Instrument of truths, not affecting our eternal interests, God communicates through other instruments, which we need not scruple to call organs of revelation, if only we understand clearly in what lower sense those words are applied. The truths of Natural Philosophy are revealed to us by the human Reason, operating upon the Phenomena of Na- ture. The law of gravitation is one of these truths ; it was a great light, when first it dawned upon the mind of Newton, and from that mind was diffused abroad. And it was a light which, like all other lights, came from the Father of lights. It was God who gave Newton his reason, and designed him (fore-ordained him, if you will) to discover by it such laws and principles of Na- ture, heretofore unknown, as Beason is competent to discover. Again, the truths which we learn from expe- rience are lights. God sends the experience, and designs us to learn by it, and gives us Eeason, to operate upon the experience, in order that we may learn. If we desire to know a truth of ex- perience, for the guidance of our individual lives, we must set our minds and memories to work upon what has befallen us, and gain the truth by this process. If we desire to know a truth of ex- perience, for the guidance of societies, we must read History, which is the record of the expe- Pt0pk§oy cmd 8aot\fio$* rienee of c.\v it I see not. I hristian laity hold them- from moral and spiritual adm< tion, and resent such admonition, when it | from any one bui a clergyman. I duty, as it ooghl t«> be esteemed every man'.- | i say a word for God in society, when I may be discreetly and properly intro- duced — to bo faithful with li is more intim friends, in representing their defects of character and -t«» be thankful himself for receiving such representations — and ever t<> be on the watch, to arrest an opportunity of profitable convi II. We dow come t»> the highest of all the end> for which the faculty of Speech was given — the Praise of God. "In psalms and livings and itoal songs, singing thankfully in your he to the Lord." " Therewith," says St. James of the tongue, " therewith bless we God, even the "By Him," says the Apostle to the a, " let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving than!. Xame." We have Seen in the course of these pages that man is provided, by his natural constitution, with resources in himself for the maintenance of his bodily and mental health, and for carrying on the 7 146 Speech the Instrument of business of life. The power of motion in his limbs enables him to take exercise — and perhaps the form of exercise which is taken by the simple move- ment of the limbs, without any extrinsic adventi- tious aid, is of all forms the most conducive to health. . For the recreation of the mind he has a resource in the faculty of Speech. And the same faculty enables him to carry on the business of life, with a speed and facility which no contrivance of art can rival. What a clumsy and tardy method of communication is that by paper and ink, as com- pared with the speaking face to face ! Nay, even the electric telegraph itself, the most marvellous in- vention of modern times, is slow in its conveyance of ideas in comparison of the human mouth. So that for the business and enjoyment of this life, man is ampty furnished in himself with all resources — he need not travel out of his own nature — he has his instruments ready at hand. But man is made for transactions of a higher de- scription than any which relate to this earth ; he has communications to hold with Heaven, and in- tercourse to carry on with God : he is a " Janus bifrons," — with one face he looks towards earth, with another he confronts unseen things, and re- gards the invisible God. We should expect then to find him furnished with resources for heavenly, as well as for earthly, intercourse. And such is y and & 117 eed tho case. u With i .'" Ever} erne lu* the instrument of » spirit- ual within him. The spiritual Inlnu and Hymns, and the Enstnn i wherewith it is (.lion 4 man. What a noble sacrifice! With what i facility, and grace, may the instrument falfi] end] I ;* intellig 1 an element <>i* I ing. Not so in a piece of instrumental music, or in what eously called the song of birds. articulate sounds, — beautifully touching, exquisitely pathetic, as some of them arc- only feeling without intelligence, — they are the v of the soul and not of the spirit. On the r hand, a speech or add;'. Ingle [lent It is the voice of the Reason: 1 d that it may move the feelings, and often aims at doing so; but the body — the substantial part — eh must always be its argument (the ap- peals to the affections, which a liary to his ailment), an argument i- the province of the spirit, not of the soul of man. A song combines both — the articulations of Reason and the gushing forth of feeling, — and therefore a spiritual song, — a song addressed to God, — embrace the highest exercise of the big] human powers. 148 Speech the Instrument of And let me add, lest I should seem to exclude from this graud service of Praise all those whom defect of ear or voice precludes from literal sing- ing — that a Poem is a Song, and that, therefore, a Psalm or Hymn, even though not sung, but simply recited, is a spiritual song. The Ancients were aware of this ; and accordingly with them the poet was identified with the minstrel, and the same word " carmen " is employed in Latin to denote the effusions of both. For indeed either the rhyme and metre of Poetry, or its more essential attri- butes of figure, image, and lofty diction, may be justly regarded as the outcoming of feeling, and as a substitute for the musical tones of the voice. Contemplate Redeemed Man, then, — contem- plate yourself, — as having been constituted the High Priest of God. It is of necessity that you should have something to offer. And the tongue supplies you with a resource for sacrifice. God provides you not with a lamb, but with a song, for a burnt-offering. With Angels and Arch- angels, and all the Company of Heaven, you are required to pour forth your soul in strains of thanksgiving and praise to the Most High. This is a sacrifice, from the offering of which no one is exempt. It is the sacrifice appointed for Redeemed Man in his priestly character. For let it ever be borne in mind that all Christians — 149 I of ( i«"l — :nv. in a certain : imp ense, priests, and thai apon all of them, m such, devolve priestly functions, u Be hath mads as | rightly apprehended, fori in the smallest . with that of a constituted Ministn fulfilment of certain functions, which none may, without awful presumption, invade. Why should the two doctrinee be more inooo imder the* New Covenant than the under the Old ? It is said of the whole Israelii people, in the most distinct and emphatic terms: "Ye shall be unto me a Kingdom of Priests, and an holy nation/ 3 « priests; and as a priest, each male was to present himself before , with an offering, at the three great F< vals. Yet when Korah, Dathan, and Abiram presumed upon this sanctity of the entire congre- •n to arrogate to themselves the office of burn- ing incense, the Divine di.-pleasure was ms in a form so peculiar, that it has no exact parallel throughout the whole compass of Scripture. solution of the apparent inconsistency be- tween the priestly functions of the whole congre- 6 of the Ministry, I take to bo this : The line of Aaron under the ( >ld Covenant, and Bishops, Priests, and Deacons under the 2s ew, Ilepresentatives before God of the entire Peo- 150 . Speech the Instrument of pie. Representatives, — that is the idea. Now it does not follow that whatever the representative is authorized to do, that the party represented may do. All Englishmen, who have a certain stake in the country, may vote at an election of a member for the Lower House, and then they are in their place, and act constitutionally ; but most assuredly they would put themselves out of their place, if they were to force a passage into the House of Commons, and on the ground of their having a voice in the Government, attempt to make a sj)eech there. That is simply arrogating a function which is none of theirs. This is a homely image ; but it may help to impress the truth upon the reader's mind. We, the Ministry, are the Representatives before God of you — who are yourselves his Royal Priesthood. You may, — nay, you must daily — seek to edify others with your lips as the passing occasions of life give you opportunity of doing so. You may, — nay, you must daily — present the Spiritual Sa- crifice of Praise (not only praying to God for what you need, but glorifying Him in Psalms and Hymns for all you receive, and specially for Christ, the Unspeakable Gift). But as it did not follow that an Israelite, because he was a member of the Kingdom of Priests, might therefore slay a victim at the Tabernacle door, or burn incense before I.'.l deho\;ih, so it do lined, may w low-Ohri the offer op prayers m their nai or bless them in the Qreat Nan iune I ; much leee that he may break and bless I Wine, which under the Law pond to the Sacrifices under the It is weH for as, however, to bear in mind, that, while the Ministry of the Minister will paBfl away, that of the Christian will endure f.-r ewr. As the bloody sacrifices, which were th< of a ing Ohri (hand upon the Church of God, have lied away, so also shall the ie Lord, which is the commemoration of Christ already come, pass away when lie re- turns. The ixreat Ordinance of the Gospel b >r it. We are directed to show forth the Lord's death* by the elements of Bread and Wine till, — and only till, — I! . But even then, although the Ministry of the }<\ will t an end, the ministry of Psalms and Hymns will continue, and protract Itself throughout Eter- nity. The great and enduring nobility of Pr; : it shall abide for ever, that it is the arch of God, which has the stamp 01 .ity upon it. When there is no I in the heart, no want to be supplied, Prayer 152 Note. shall expire. When every soul, save the irreme- diably lost, has been both brought to Christ, Preaching shall have no further use. When Christ is manifested face to face, we shall no longer need to regard Him through the dark mirror of Sacra- ments. Praise and Thanksgiving alone shall have a duration equal with the Love of God and the glory of Christ — they shall roll the tale of that Love, and the declaration of that Glory, along the ages of an Eternal Future. NOTE ON CHAPTER VI., p. 141 " Tkese two ends, then, may be shortly stated as being I. Edification, and II. Praise.'''' In other words, it is by Speech that man is a Prophet (or Preacher) to his brethren, and a Priest (for the offering of spirit- ual sacrifice) to God. <* It is very interesting to connect this idea with that set forth in a previous Chapter, where we pointed out the heavenly analogy of the connexion between Speech and Reason. We saw in that Chap- ter, that Speech in the Nature of man, is the representation of Christ in the Nature of God, our Lord being called The Word. Now we know that Christ is both Prophet, Priest, and King. As a Prophet, He was sent by the Father, to instruct us in the Law of Liberty. As a Priest, He negotiates our acceptance on the ground of His Sacrifice, and intercedes for us in the Heavenly Temple. As a King, He rules us by His Providence, His Word, and His Spirit. Similarly, Speech may be viewed in a threefold aspect. One Note. end of it is Am Edification of Man. A il Sa- isalma and Hymns, wU l^s us to oiv God. And as discriminating man from the i; may justly be said to be the Royal Faulty. It wi rctoe tfal sovereignty over the beasts of I A lam gave t!io:n BMMA 7* CHAPTER IX. HINTS FOK THE GUIDANCE OF CONVEESATION. 44 ®®f)tvzfovt f m$ btporto JBrctijren, let t\}tv^ man bt shift to ijtat, stoTo to sjj cafe.* '—James i. 19. We have now completed our consideration of idle words. We have arrived at the definition of an idle word, by ascertaining what words are not idle. And the definition is this : " All such words are idle, as contribute nothing either to the carrying on of the necessary business of life, or to innocent amusement, or to the lower or higher forms of instruction, or to the glory of Almighty God." It remains that I should furnish some practical hints for agreeable and useful conversation. And of useful conversation there are two kinds, corre- sponding to the two forms of instruction — a lower and a higher. We may converse on earthly sub- jects of interest, or on divine and spiritual top- ics. Religious conversation shall occupy our next or t/«- G 'nil fa nee of ( We will i a on Bill 1. but) not n Let inciplea Eoly vs down for our guidance in mar The passage which the head of this I the chief New which affirms the principle on which Conversation • be regulated. " Lei every man be hear, slow to speak." Self-restraint in talk ami readiness to receive information, is to !>•• olating principle. The spirit of the Old T< meat precept on thi i, is the same with that of the New: i; is even more solemn. It runs thus: "In the multitude of words tl wanteth nut sin; hut he that rctVaineth his lips is wise." It is true that, in the iirst of tl ^ges, the primary reference is in all probability tot: words by which religious instruction is to be c d. For, in the immediately preceding con- ies has been speaking of God's ha\ by the word of truth,— that is, by i of the Gospel, — and he then prosectl the idea, by inculoati taint in speaking tching the Gospel. M W1 . my beloi brethren" (observe the signiii the u wl: 156 Hints for the Guidance of Conversation, fore ; " it shows that the precept, which it intro- duces, is the legitimate conclusion from a doctrine previously affirmed), "Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear [this word of truth], and slow to speak it," — exactly harmonizing with the advice given further on in the Epistle (chap. iii. 1), "My brethren, be not many masters " (fir] ttoXXol diddanaXoi yiveade, — lit- erally, " Be not many of you teachers ") — do not lightly covet the position of an instructor in Di- vine Truth ; for thereby your responsibilities will be increased, and your shortcoming aggravated — " knowing that we " (the ministers of God's Word, the Apostle among the number) " shall receive " (if unfaithful to our trust) " the greater damna- tion." No doubt, with the more educated Jewish converts, specially those who had imbibed Phari- saical principles, the arrogating to themselves the position of teachers would be a very popular form of sin. ~No doubt there were many among them who trusted, as St. Paul intimates, that " they themselves were guides of the blind, lights of them which were in darkness, instructors of the ignorant, and teachers of babes." A similar spirit of presumption and censoriousness is con- demned by Our Lord in the Sermon on the Mount, where He recommends His hearers to cast out first the beam out of their own eye, be- tlu-y ani ate which ii in their brothei It seems probable, therefore, thai the v, of St. James refer, in the Brit in >rds of religions instruction or admonition* Bni onlv in the first We must not inordinate, bni very importanl n the whole range of Conversation. Though should always, in the first instance, endeavour to di the eontextnal connexion of the words of Holy Scripture, no passage is to be so pinned down to one narrow department of meaning, as that it shall not be allowed to soar above its con- A large and comprehensive view must be taken of Scriptural precepts, and of this among the rest. One great use of words is, that we may thereby. This may be done while in- structing them on ordinary subjects, as well as in a higher form, by direct religious teaching. More- over, all words — and not only those spoken in a religious assembly — are uttered before God. He hears them all, and notes their character. " Lo, there is not a word in my tongue, but Thou, O !, knowest it altogether." So that involved ich prohibitions as — "When ; . DS6 not repetitions, as the heathen do," — and again, " Be not rash with thy mouth, and let not t 1 heart be hasty to utter any thing before God, for 158 Hints for the Guidance of Conversation. God is in heaven, and thou upon earth : therefore, let thy words be few," — is a general precept of self-restraint in the use of words. And, accord- ingly, such a precept, as we have seen, occurs in the Inspired Yolume without any special refer- ence to words of religious instruction. " In the multitude of words there wanteth not sin." And again, " He that hath knowledge spareth his words : and a man of understanding is of an ex- cellent spirit." " Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise : and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding." Having thus seen what principle Holy Scrip- ture lays down for the guidance of Conversation, let us proceed to give some hints for the applica- tion of the principle to practice. I. . " Let every man be swift to hear." A desire of gaining instruction is one of the first dispositions with which we must engage in Conversation, if we desire to make it profitable, — nay, even entertaining, — to both parties. Let it be considered a fixed and ascertained truth, that your neighbour, however he may be inferior to you in some points of station and at- tainment, Is able to impart to you some informa- tion which you do not possess, This is not a ' fancy, it is a real truth. "We are told that as to spiritual endowments mankind are all one Body, — I that the Lord has not 1 in am- i :-man, — that the wisdom, knowledge, ability of all dm . —that one has the qualifica- tion which hboiir lacks, and lacks the lification which ; i& And are informed farther of the ngnift of this arrangement — it is pointed out to us how this diversity of gifts in cadi individual OOntrib- I only to tlic dep of all upon < . hut t«> mutual interdependence The \ that there should he an im de- mand among men for the services of one another — that the need of one man may he supplied out -undance of another, and that the person so assisted should reciprocate, by giving of what he possesses. Aud what is said of spiritual ad of this world's wealth, applies with equal truth to the great stock of general knowl- • disparted among mankind. It too is un- ify distributed — one man has the ten tale: another live, and a third but one ; — yet the ! cursory experience of life, the daily work l»y which the livelihood is earned, gft portion of it to all. A mechanic knows how to perfo manual processes of his trade— a philosopher, the princi a which the : . would probably handle the 160 Hints for the Guidance of Conversation. tools in such a manner as to produce a certain failure. The knowledge of books, and an exten- sive acquaintance with literature, may easily con- sist with a profound ignorance of common things, external nature, or the current intelligence of the day. Let it be remembered that this current in- telligence, if it concern worthy subjects, and not the frivolous movements of modern society, — if it turn upon political measures, or the events pass- ing on the theatre of the world, — is a legitimate part of the great fund of knowledge, and that a man who has mastered it is so far forth a better informed man than he who has not. The events of the day — those, I mean, which affect our coun- try and the world at large — are the elements of Modern History. Let it be assumed, then, that every man has some piece of knowledge to impart to us, which we ourselves do not possess. And, this being the case, let us, when either casually or by design w T e enter into company, set ourselves to the finding out what that something is. Possibly it is nothing in our own line — noth- ing that is to be found in books — nothing con- nected with any ambitious department of knowl- edge. And, therefore, you think it is not worth your listening to — much less, your casting about how you may extract it. Oh the narrowness of bfor tin- (i\t> or instruct. The warning against idle ust he heeded, at w" of IV ion. For He uttered the warning, whose lip- are tail of Grace, and at our I slight even the least of His Com- mandments. II. We now turn to the second part of the Scriptur ipt — "Let every man be slow to I in, and would naturally follow from, what went before. For if a man be simply d -traction, he will not be o ly, although he will not be backward, to communicate it. The precept, however, is of such import:; not be left to in We D 1 not to arrive at it in the way of action: it is given us directly and explicitly, 164: Hints for the Guidance of Conversation. in a form which cannot be evaded : " Let every man be slow to speak." Now, as one design of the former precept was to communicate an inter- est to conversation, by setting each party upon an inquiry, as to what knowledge his neighbour might be possessed of, so the main scope of this is to pre- vent one party from selfishly engrossing all the interest of it. Is it not remarkable how minute and detailed the Word of God is in its censure of evil, and how profound, in its analysis and exposure of the mo- tives from which evil springs ? Though, in com- pliance with its own principles, its words are few, yet how exploring are they — how do they detect the hidden flaw in our social intercourse, and point to its origin ! The way of society — the principles upon which the intercourse of the world is regulated — is this : It is assumed as an axiom, that the greater part of mankind have nothing to contribute to the common stock of knowledge, but that some fa- voured individuals have a gift of entertaining others by their Conversation, however little they may instruct them. The individuals thus favoured soon feel, and begin to exercise, their own ]30wers. The admiration, even of a small circle, flatters their vanity, and they bid high for it, by making every effort, when in company, to be thought nee of C L60 agreeable. Nor is this effort, apart from the mo- tive which originatei it, any thing but oommi able. 1 to entertain and instead the society in which lie moves. J » u t . then, t!i of the worldling the on rod of selfishness, which vitiates it at the core. He cares not far pleasing other . i-tso tar at they yield him the homage of admirat ion. utility, and his volubility, his anecdotes, and hi- boii-mots, are, from beginning to end, a •n. And so long at he le in the pursuit of his ob- 3, his humour i> complaisant, and his de- vour ati'ahle. But let another person, equally . nter the same sphere, and, with no less •o a hearing, claim to he heard. This will often dY lew of all, the sellish- ness which before wafl latent. Discontented and mortified by having found a rival in the power of rtaining, the man retires into himself, it' he cannot he the first object of attraction, he d not care to entertain at all. But. . the way of society is not God's way, nor are the principles upon which worldly intercourse is regulated, Scriptural principles. God teaches that no man may put himself in a false position, by arrogating to himself the exclu- power of entertaining and instructing the 166 Hints for the Guidance of Conversation. society in which he moves, — that, as no man is really endued with all knowledge in every de- partment, so it is hypocrisy and a lie for any man to pretend that he is, and to monopolize conversa- tion, as if he were : — " Let every man be slow to speak." Scripture prescribes the disposition with which a man should enter upon conversation, as one of candour in confessing ignorance, and of readiness to receive instruction : — " Let every man be swift to hear." Now, if these principles were uniformly car- ried out, how different a scene would society pre- sent from that which we so often witness. The secret heart-burnings and jealousies, which are sometimes fomented by an evening in company, would cease, and Conversation, instead of lapsing into the vanity of an empty display, whose hol- lowness is apparent afterwards, would become a source of mutual profit and satisfaction to all con- cerned in it. * " But may I not be brilliant in conversation, — may I not shine in that, which I know to be my own department ? " says some one, who feels that he is gifted that way. You may, nay, you must, exercise every gift that God has given you, but no gift may you exercise, if you are a liegeman of the Cross, and a follower of the Nazarene, with the design of attracting admiration. "Words '<<• Outdance of Conversat'a I M I of entertainment I Instruction they were given fear the glorifl < ion, but I now! 1 that they v. •rifioatioii of sel£ In order to see more dearly how serious the fault is, which operation of ie principle which leads a man to engross i •i, by way of glorifying himself, turn* him kd Eeresiarch in the higher sphere of religions bhing. For what is an Beresiarehl An Be- nch is one whoj in virtue of tris own peonliar Stitntion of mind, seizes upon some one point in the ample compass of Divine Trutli. In the narrowness of his mind, lie eoneeives all truth to up in this one doctrine, — lie looks down upon those counterbalancing doctrines, which are equally based upon the authority of Holy tpture, and which present then; move forcibly to minds of another cast. lie does not rehend the catholicity of God's Truth, or the that all men's minds are but partial recepta- cles of it— that one mind is more vividly impress- ed by one portion of it, another by another. Ac- lingly, it' endowed with the gift of Speech, he seeks to gain attention for his one aspect of Truth, and all others do homage to it. He suc- ceeds : and (for it is pleasant to be batoned to) success l y. He forms an entire 168 Hints for the Guidance of Conversation, theory upon his one doctrine, magnifying it in very undue proportions, — and attracts notice, and wins followers. Perhaps Schism (that is, separa- tion from the Church) follows. The Church hold3 all truth, and he holds a part. The Church flat- ters no man's vanity, and he has a vast stock of vanity, which requires to be flattered. He can speak, and, therefore, to speak he will be forward — if not in the Church, at least in the Meeting House. It is the same vanity, and the same for- getfulness that every one holds a portion of truth, which, in a sphere not religious, leads a man to that monopoly of conversation, which the Scrip- ture censures. Finally, a valuable rule for the Guidance of our Conversation is to be obtained from a passage to which I have as yet made no reference. We know the manner in which Holy Scripture speaks — we know how brief and chastised are its delin- eations, and yet how significant — we know, when it paints character, how few and simple are the touches of the pencil, and yet how graphic and expressive — how, through the whole Yolume (com- posed by divers human authors, and at periods of time separated by long intervals), runs the charac- teristic of few words, and deep wisdom — little rhetoric, and much point. Well, let us make it a model for the style of our Conversation. We are i Outdance of Conversato . 1 1 18 bidden bo to do. Let us bo chastised in our talk. Let us strive that, as far as may be, etch wofd drop may have some point in it — some worth and Jit, ami solidity. In other, and better lan- guage, — "IP ANY MAN 8PEAK, 111 HIM SPEAK AS ORACLE8 OF GOD." 8 CHAPTEE X. ON RELIGIOUS CONVERSATION. M SlnU tjjeg taXketi tofictljcr of nil tjjcse t&irtjjs to|)ic!) ftafci Ijaji* penrt. &nlr tt came to pass, tljat, b)f)ile tijeg commune* to* jjcttjcr anli reasoned, #esus lumsetf tireto neav anu toent tott^ tfjem." — Luke xxiv. 14, 15. Our subject in these pages has been Speech — in its origin — in its responsibility — and in its ap- plication to the Worship of God, and to the enter- tainment and edification of the mind. We en- deavoured, in our last Chapter, to give some prac- tical suggestions for conversation on topics merely useful and interesting, without being directly relig- ious ; in this final essay of the series, we shall endeavour to give some hints on the grave and important topic of Spiritual Conversation. I. Now it is evident, at the outset, that of re- ligious conversation there may be two kinds. Such conversation may turn upon that which passes within. We may reveal to our friends our religious 171 experience (meaning l»v fluctuating OOndJ W|r spiritual lit". us iinpimwipi • by various tpon our awls, the tentimenti and reft bo which circumstances gi within us, the | which w \vt Almighty I had with Di in Providence or in Grace, and so forth)— Or we may discuss religious truth whicli is rnal to cur own minds, and of whicli a \ field lies open to as, inviting that investigation which is sometimes best C Q by the contact of mind with mind. Thus, assuming, tbr the sake of an ill; that St. Peter was one of the disciples, who, on the day of the B inn, walked to Emm (as we know he was not) — he might have disCQJ with his companion the shame and remorse whicli r since his fall had himg like a dark cloud over his mind, and his earnest wish to make amends to Master, now that it seemed as if amends could Longer be made ; or the conversation of the two com: light have turned, as it actually did turn, upon Christ, — they might have talked to- gether of the things which had happened, taking a summary retrospect of that wonderful career, now that it had closed upon them (as they thought) for :, and refreshing one another's memory o: various incidents — the miracles by which its pr 172 On Religious Conversation. ress had been marked, and the words of Grace, which, on various occasions, had fallen from the lips of Him who spake as never man spake. Let us take each of these kinds of religious con- versation in order, and consider how far each of them is intrinsically proper and edifying. Speech ( and therefore conversation, which is a form of speech ) is the index or expression of the thoughts of man. Language is the outcoming of the human mind. Now there is an analogy between the mind of man, in its operation upon ideas, and the senses of man, in their operation upon matter. The senses — sight, hearing, touch and the rest, — are so constructed as to throw us into the outer world. The senses are perfect, only when we for- get that we have them, and throw ourselves, by the exercise of them, into the various objects which are presented to us. When, for example, we gaze upon a fair land- scape from some eminence, and are wholly ab- sorbed in the beauty of the plain outstretched beneath our feet, dotted here and there with cattle, and intersected with silver streams — upon the outline, undulating or jagged, of the purple hills in the distance — and upon the sheets of water which lie embosomed in the woods, the sense of sight has fulfilled its object in the just and legiti- On Religious Conversation. iy, it has oj»« iturally, aj il to operate. "We have not seen tin no sense operates npon itself. "What we have •t. Of e w* haw Lpri all thought. ^ not been OOlciooa even of ; •--• ;" ryo. Wo haTebeea engaged with land.-«-:i; il the same with the other senses. throw themselves, by their natural constitution, outward. None of them have .any reilex action D themselves. And th«'V are in a sound St only w!.< I that we possess them. A hi of mi; the ear; it wakens up a In Of .Maori in the mind, wh; the DOT l'ar away from the circumstances whieh at present surround him, — but he is quite uncon- scious of the inlet by whieh those associations entered, — he thinks not of the ear. A sweet breath oi' hay or seav at him back again to the time of his youth, when he played in the hay- iield or upon the beach, — he ! in for a time amid the scenes of his childhood, — but he think- not of the orpin by which the impression i- I say, he thinks not of it. There is no reflec- oft/ie min d upon the operation of the senses. And, of course, there is no reflex action of the 6enses upon themselves. Th not so con- 174 On Religious Conversation. stituted that it can see itself, nor the ear that it can hear itself: their construction points to some- thing in the outward world — a scene, or a sound, which they are to apprehend. ISTow you are to observe, that, if there were any such reflex action, either of the mind upon the operations of sense, or of the senses upon themselves, this would indicate disease in the or- gans of sense. If a man's attention, or conscious- ness, is divided between the landscape and his eye, it is because the eye is not single, there is some flaw in it. If, while listening to a strain of music, he imagines that he hears it in a singular or unwonted manner, — that he hears the notes doubled, for example, or unduly prolonged, — this is because the sense of hearing is out of order. In any healthy exercise of the organ, he would not be sensible of its presence : when he is so sensible, that indicates something amiss. Now, there is a resemblance between man's mind and his senses, as generally there is a cor- respondence between the outward and the inward frame.' The senses are adapted by their construc- tion to the matter which is outside of, and inde- pendent of, themselves. The mind is adapted by its constitution to the apprehension and contem- plation of objects, which are quite independent of, and outside of, its internal mechanism. Thus, On B d ig iam O om t& m H i i m , for Qzample, the aftectiona of four, b tpas- ■:, and love, haw > certain objects upon which tin ' v ar- does not fear itself, nor compassion compassion If, nor love lore itself, but fear appreh danger, and makes us fly; soon feat upon el! ad disposes ns to relieve it; : upon BOJ i of natural affection, and disposes I hat object And, in the purely intellectual faculties, the same feature ' \ able. Our minds are adapt - • the investigationand contemplation of troths, whirh are independent of them, a: Le them. Tliey may invest igate the laws which govern the universe, from the phenomena which the univ presents. They may throw themselves, through the medium of history, into scenes which b ■•ted in bygone ages. Finally, they may contemplate the Spiritual Truths propounded in the Bible, and derive upon them- >m that - mutation, a happy and an holy influei But supposing that, instead of operating thus, the feelings, affect ind thoughts, should fall k upon themselves, and contemplate their own operations. Supposing that in an hour of Immi- nent peril — when on the verge of a shipwreck — the mind wen to run, not upon the danger, but upon the affection of fear — that, instead of taking 176 On Religious Conversation. all due precautions, we were engaged in a specu- lation upon the origin and precise amount of the alarm experienced on the present occasion. Or, supposing that, when our path was crossed by an object of distress, we paused, to analyze the feeling of compassion, as to how far it might be genuine on the present occasion, or how far other motives might dispose us to relieve this case. Or, suppos- ing that we always 'had in our minds the affection felt by us for some member of our family, and, as having it much upon our minds, were constantly to be bringing it forward in conversation, and exposing it to others. Or, supposing, finally, that in a piece of historical research, a man were to please himself, not with a picture of ancient man- ners, elicited by a careful study of ancient monu- ments, and the patching together of notices, found in sundry dry old chronicles, but with the thought of his own acumen in shedding this light upon an obscure period, — what should we infer from all this, as to the soundness or unsoundness of the mental and moral powers % "We should say at once that they were morbid, and their action un- healthy. As the eye is conscious of the landscape, not of its own visual power, the ear conscious of the music, not of its own structure, — so the mind ought to be conscious only of the external objects upon which it fastens, and when it turns back On Bdigiamtf Qm*0Wt i on * r, , again upon itself, thifl is I proof of B inherent in it. Now, poaaibly, it' th lias followed me thus far, his mind will jump prematurely to which sivms to present an i to what hi Von will naturally ask, — is, then, all reflection of the mind upon its own pnx i be discour- aged? Is not self-examination a duty pn in HmIv Scripture 1 And what is self-examination, luit | rellectiou oi'the mind upon it- own pr d to suggest that we should ool o itljbe looking into our own hearts and char- acters, and endeavouring to act upon the maxim, Bftid ot'old to have come down from heaven, yvwOi aeavrov ? Self-Examination, in the p resent circumstances of our nature, is, no doubt, a most important and arduous duty. But it is no less true, that Self- Examination has reference to a llaw in our nature, and in a perfect condition of the mental and moral powers would not exist. The object of Self-Ex- animation is to ascertain how far our hearts are right with GkxL But supposing (which, sinoe the Fall m a purely imaginary case) that our hearts were never wrong with (iod — that the DQ needle of the Will always turned steadily, and without oscillation, in the direction of God — could 8* 178 On Religious Conversation. there be then any place for Self-Examination? Surely none. Self-Examination was unknown in Paradise. Our first parents, before the Fall, were innocents in the strictest sense of that term, throw- ing themselves, with keenest enjoyment, into all the objects of delight which surrounded them in the pure and happy garden ; but never analyzing their own sensations, or reflecting upon the instru- mentality by which they were produced. We may conceive them to have been essentially unreflect- ing (in the limited sense of the word reflection) — absorbed, indeed, in the contemplation of the Divine Goodness, and in the appreciation of those blessings with which He had crowned their cup, — but self in no shape entering into their thoughts. But, by the Fall, a great flaw entered both into the physical and moral nature of man. Thence- forth it became necessary for the physician to ex- ' amine the structure of the organs of sense, and to acquaint himself, as far as possible, with the theory of sensation, in order that he might minister to the relief of the organs of sense, when deranged. And, thenceforth, it became necessary to exercise Self- Examination, — that man should analyze his own motives, should investigate his own feelings, and try by the revealed rule of right, his conduct and his character. All this was made necessary by superinduced evil — it was not necessary originally. On Bdigicm OonuMmtiion* 179 l now we turn rafficientfy examined the roots of the subject, to see our w answer used at the outset of the Oha] I the answer I give is this, — The revelation of our own inward experience to otfo talking of our own frames and feelings, Of personal dealings which God may have had with is onlj desirable, BO far forth -tributes to t!. end of Self-Examination, It" ii tends '.ve us seli-knowledev— to derelope more fully in our consciousness our own nn worthiness and God's great Love — then doubtless it is desirah By the help of this principle, we must make out when conversation of this kind won Id be an advantage, and when it would not The object of Self-Examination is the gaining a deeper sense of our own sinfulness. And the object of gaining this deeper sense is that we may recur with a Stronger faith and more entire simplicity to Chi If then this deeper sense of sinfulness can be for- warded or fostered by the disclosure either to an intimate friend, or to a clergyman (yes, to a clergy- men, — we are not afraid of truth, because the irch abuses and caricature- it) of our own inward retigkra ■ " shall do well and wisely to make that disclosure, and to solicit the prayers for us of the person to whom it is made. The doing so would only be acting in accordance 180 On Religious Conversation. with the inspired principle — " Confess your sins one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man avail eth much." I feel, however, that it behoves us at all times to be jealously watch- ful over our own minds, while making such commu- nications. We may suffer real spiritual mischief by a too free or too general disclosure of feelings, which, as turning upon our own personal relation to God, are invested with a peculiar sacredness. It will be well for me briefly to point out how this mischief may arise. Who, that knows himself, knows not the sub- tlety of pride ? Who knows not that pride takes its occasion from our religious actions, from our religious feelings, and is the cankerworm at the root of them, that blights and makes them rotten ? We cannot express ourselves humbly, we cannot confess our sins heartily, but pride, like a malig- nant fluid, secreted from the heart, poisons our humility and our confession. Now it is evident that pride may feel a great deal of complacency, when we speak out to another the most secret and sacred feelings of our own breast. The reflection will perforce suggest itself, do what we may to keep it down, — " Is not this act of self-abasement a proof of my real goodness ? Could a man have the feelings which I disclose, and which by the On Religious Conversat^ I si disclosure 1 unfold is my own oonaoioneneaa, with- out baying really some mo— OBO of saintliness? Will u. »t the person to whom J disclose them thin' of me, instead of worse, fat re \ " I by ;ii8 say that the occasion which the talking of Religions Experience gives to feelings of this character ought to he a bar to it altogether. There is no religion e in the world, from which pride may not and does not take its occa- sion. If it i.- rather more aj>t to do SO from this kind of conversation than from any Other duty, it is because it i> the metl personal of all duties, the BMMt hound up and identified with self. This consideration should make us, not backward in di-elosing our feelings when the doing BO may he tided with advantage, — but only guarded and watchful over our own minds, while making the re. Guardedness in exposing our feelings should arise from the consideration, that by thus diffusing them we evaporate their strength. This is a law of the ct.i^titution of our nature, the operation of which is inevitable. The sentiments of the heart, especially those of the most personal and sacred character, resemble fragrant odour.:. If you break the box of ointment, the fragrance must be m or L< 1 in the air. The concentration 182 On Religious Conversation. of a religious feeling in the deep cell of the heart is its strength — its diffusion sometimes proves its weakness. There is one direction, however, and one only, in which it may be diffused without perilling its strength. The exposure of the heart's sentiments to Christ in confession of guilt, and acknowledgment of His mercies — in application for His sympathy and aid — this, as bringing us into contact with the One Source of light and strength, cannot but confirm and intensify them. From Him we can conceal nothing ; and it is our highest wisdom and privilege to pour out the heart before Him. Mary broke her alabaster box of ointment upon His feet, and that offering He endued by His Word with an undying fragrance. "Yerily, I say unto you, that wheresoever this Gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her." Let the odour of our affections go forth towards Christ; and they shall preserve their fragrance fresh and enduring. The third and last consideration, which I shall adduce against an undue divulging of our religious feelings to others is, that this practice, however sometimes necessary and desirable, cannot but counteract a secret, true, and natural instinct within us. There is a remarkable analogy be- On Religion* Conversation. 1 88 en tin- way in which we regard our phytic*] frame, and that in which we regard oar m the Fall, which brought En ■ isnessof imperfetion, man lias shrunk ! 3 -nakedness d aeoompanied with me. The first effect of man's sin was t«> make him hide himself among the trees of the garden, an ! ALT BE CONDEMNED." 1 :inn«»t close this Chapter without bringing to the reader's memory a well-known-] >assage of Cowper, — one of the beau English literature, — which sums up the argument of the preceding Chapter : — " It happened on a solemn eventide, Soon after He that was our Surety died, Two bosom friends, each pensively inclined, The scene of all those sorrows left behind, Sought their own village, busied as they went, In musings worthy of the great event : They spake of Him they loved, of Him whose life, Though blameless, had incurr'd perpetual strife, Whose deeds had left, in spite of hostile arts, A deep memorial graven on their hearts. The recollection, like a vein of ore, The farther traced, enrieh'd them still the more : They thought Him, and they justly thought Him, One, Sent to do mor> pear'd to have done ; 190 On Religious Conversation. To exalt a people, and to place them high Above all else, and wonder'd He should die. Ere yet they brought their journey to an end, A stranger join'd them courteous as a friend, And ask'd them, with a kind engaging air, What their affliction was, aj*d begg'd a share. Inform'd, He gather'd up the broken thread, And, truth and wisdom gracing all He said, Explain'd, illustrated, and search'd so well The tender theme on which they chose to dwell, That, reaching home, ' The night,' they said, ' is near. 'We must not now be parted, sojourn here.' — The new Acquaintance soon became a guest, And made so welcome at their simple feast, He bless'd the bread, but vanish'd at the word, And left them both exclaiming, ' Twas the Lord ! • Did not our hearts feel all He deign'd to say ? 4 Did they not burn within us by the way ? ' Now theirs was converse, such as it behoves Man to maintain, and such as God approves : Their views indeed were indistinct and dim, But yet successful, being aim'd at Him ; Christ and His character their only scope, Their object, and their subject, and their hope." m. Cl TIJJT [VERSITTi APPENDIX. I subjoin, as an Appendix, a Sermon, which embraces two points respecting the Government of the Tongue omitted in the Essays. The Reader will pardon the re-appearance, in a homely dress, of two or three ideas, which have been already introduced into the body of the Work. APPENDIX. A SERMON ON THE GOVERNMENT OF THE ToXGUE. PREACHED I.\ [OOL OKA? James ii. '2 — 1. • in many thing* we offend all. If any man offend not in word, the fame is a perfect man, and able oho (<> brUU t/ie whole body. B<1 I bits in the horses' mouths, that they may obey us; and ice turn aboui their whole body. Behold also the shijts, which though Oiey be so great, a f fierce '.>■, yet are they turned about with a vtry small faUn, whither- soever the governor Ih Tin: Apostle is speaking, in tl f the eminent of the Tongue. An< - of the Government of the Tongne [net things, which are not to be confonm r, — both strong thi ly, bat the lal stronger than the former. at the degree in which a man governs his tongue is a ium lcx of his whole m 9 194 Sermon at Rugby , state. An index. The hands of a watch, or the projection on a sundial, are an index, by which yon may ascertain the progress of Time, or in other words, how much of his course in the heavens the Sun has accomplished. The Sun (or rather the Earth in its diurnal revolution) travels silently and without noise. In order to be advertised at any moment of the Sun's exact stage of progress, we create an artificial index — the watch, or the dial, — which reports that progress with accuracy. Sim- ilarly, our moral life, though always moving either forward or backward (for, my brethren, it is a solemn truth that there is no standing still in moral life ), yet moves slowly and imperceptibly ; as we cannot see the Sun moving (although after it has moved, we note that it is in a different quarter of the heavens), so we cannot see ourselves growing better or worse (although, after a lapse of time, we may take notice that we are more or less good than we were a year or six months ago). It is desirable, therefore, to have an exact index, by recurring to which, we may ascertain our moral progress. And this index, the Apostle says, is the Tongue. That is the thought of verse 2. Keep it distinct in your minds. But something more than this, — a further, and stronger statement, — is yet behind. The Government or non-government of the 'he Government of the Ton; ot only an index, [tiaalsoadetennin- r the iinag« Lit and a radder. Now what ua a bit :— an rhich d< b Wilicfa makes him turn t«> the right or t<> whi< . i hi> month, leaves him I and iction, and, it' drawn tight, ai ^ress. Just so a rudder with a ship ; — it ifl guiding instrument of the vessel's course. With you may turn the ship at a moment's notice as you please, but the guidance of a vessel which fa her rudder, by the sails, ifl at all times a very difficult and dangerous matter.- lib | in any but the most expert hands. w this image, you ol Upon th- The hands of the watch, and the index of the dial, do not I course, nor have they the slightest influence upon it. The J mark and its progress; but they in no v its course, as the helm hiases the course of the ship, and the bit Liases the COB of the ho Now, then, I will say a word on these two at topics — the Tongue as the index of our moral c d the Tongue afl the governing • rument of our m To those of you who are striving to be holy, and to imitate the e of Our Saviour, do I 196 Sermon at Rugby, now address myself. And I pray that what I say may be made, by God, the means of helping you in that pursuit. First, the Tongue as an index. " If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to bridle the whole body." Only one perfect Man ever existed ; and of Him — in perfect accordance with the principle here laid down by the Apostle — it is written, not only that He did no sin, but also that " no guile was found in His mouth," that " when He was reviled, He reviled not again ; when He suffered, He threatened not," — and, in another place, that " full of grace were His lips." The words of the text are not to be taken as implying that any man (except Him) is, in the judgment of God, perfect, but simply as asserting that the more closely any one approxi- mates to perfection, the more vigilantly will he be found to govern his tongue, so that his per- formance of this duty supplies an accurate touch- stone of his advance in holiness. And this will become quite obvious if we re- flect, first, that to govern the tongue is a task so difficult, that he who has grace to accomplish it, has grace to accomplish any thing. The exceed- ing great difficulty of governing the tongue con- sists principally in the great scope there is for going wrong. Other temptations only have scope L07 for the:' ;illy. When B man a health and spirits, friends all around him, and affluence and proeperitj no tempi • murmur. When he is poor, and obliged to toil hard for a day's liwli; Bcope for self-indulgence. It' he lives a life, and oomea into little or ao oolli- . . of course his temper and cour- tesy tried. If he is obliged to be busy ■k which demands close attention mind, t! :iue by which an unclean thought can insinuate itself Hut because I there is always ample ough for .e tongue, In on] Ikative the words which k from morning to night, if written down, would almost nil a voli: is continually passing from as byathou- aues of occasion, — we want something, or [re information, ot ha intelligence to imunicate, or wish to please, or must do BOO thing to while away time, or to vent our feel;: of irritation and peevishness. Kven the reason- able and necessary occasions of speech — the occa- -, on which without speech the soci< ry, very numero So that the reason why t :. mnent of the 198 Sermon at Rugby, Tongue is more arduous than any other duty, is the reason why it is more difficult for a military commander to maintain a town which has a thou- sand outlets, than one which is only accessible at two or three points. In the latter case the garrison may be concentrated at the two or three vulner- able points. In the former, they must be dispersed in weak handfuls at the various outlets. Of course we gather with certainty that, if the force suffices to maintain the city with many approaches, it will suffice to maintain the city with few. And the Word of God (all whose reasonings are, if I may say so, the reasonings of Inspired Common Sense) infers upon the same principle that he who can stand against sin succesfully, where the avenues of temptation are numerous, can stand also where they are few. " If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to bridle the whole body." But now for a second reason why the tongue should be an accurate index of the moral state. Offences of the tongue are thought so little of by mankind in general, that he who is strict with him- self here will be strict with himself, we may be sure, in all departments of duty. If he thinks gravely of wrong words, he cannot think lightly of wrong actions. You know how very little importance men generally attach to sins of the tongue — how strange- h their jud point is contrasted with that of Mini Who laid,- M I.> word which . shall B] t' in the day of judgment." 1 onr mil. thus — " A hasty word, vented in a i slight misrej ke, an impnre innendo,— why it is all :i, — nothing serioiis is intended bj and a man may 1 good man, who indu! Doh word tonally!" Bnoh is the p» notion. It is radically erroneous. It IS Word. It is probably glanced at in the third Commandment, whi thfi taking His Name in vain, aSU) which could not find plao I in the of the tongue, the Divine Legislator solemnly adds — " The Lord will not hold him guiltless" (ob, iict of the world, how wilt thou shrivel ap into • when God reveal- Bis Jndg the ' I) — "The Lord will not hold him guilt- Name in vain." But however such . that men do I vy light :-y much lighter than they do of i lations of duty. Now, if a •aid be found, who, in hi a very • I bis subj< and all that it comes . which would 200 Sermon at Rugby , not tend either to some good end or to innocent amusement, — it is impossible, is it not, that that man should be a careless liver ? The care of his words is the index of a general care over what men reckon more important than words, — actions, and feelings. Then the point seems to be proved by reason, as well as asserted in Scripture, that an accurate index of a man's entire moral condition is sup- plied by the Government of his Tongue. Weigh it well. Just as you resort to the sundial or the watch for the reckoning of time, so in your spirit- ual reckoning, in your acts of Self-Examination, you may consult the index of the tongue, with the assurance that it will give no untrue verdict. To per- sons disposed to engage seriously in that arduous work, and yet beset (as we all are here) with mani- fold business, — this thought may really be a mate- rial assistance. You wish to examine your whole moral character and life % Examine the words of the past day, — they may be a sufficient criterion. Have you been watchful over them, or have you let them slip, without reflection, from your mouth ? Have you governed them — that is, inspected them before utterance, rejected one, approved another, chastised a third, and so on ? or, have you thrown the reins of self-discipline down, and let them take their course ? ire, from I this will 1k> a fame ind< :! will li- nn inaccurate \ this alarming thought t<> many of you 1 Ob it not at once to awa] our with trumpet call I For 1 1 1 * many of you who, so long gob yen do oof go wrong in yonr liv< . i concern ;tt all [g. They may be ir<><>d this hour, and had t he next, bo tar as your superintendent think of controlling i. And if vigilance over the words be, God asserts it I riterion of vigilai e — what is the COncluflion? What, hut that yon are taking no heed t<> administer yonr nduct alter the precepts of ( and ore, the surest proof that, what- 1 privileges may attach to your lot, you have no spiritual life dwelling in \ But now to turn to the other image. The j ue is not only th< hut the determining I ument also of our moral state. It not only its out, hut n . —as the hit regulates the hoiv the helm the ship. This positioi equally apparent, when we come to examine it, with the fori i Tak . \ man lias a strong temp dingly irritable, 202 Sermon at Rugby ^ and hard to overcome. If he is a man with no self-discipline, this temper bursts forth contin- ually, and renders himself, and all around him, miserable. He is sensible of its mastery, and, in his cool moments, deplores it. Well, there is one obvious rule of wisdom which, if he clings to it steadfastly, will, by God's Grace, enable him to curb the unruly passion. He complains that he cannot control his feelings, — they are like a fretful steed, too much for his rider, and they bear him away whither they list. Granted (for argument's sake) that he cannot control his feelings ; — can he not control his words ? Can he not, if he pleases, refrain from speaking ? or if he pleases, utter a conciliatory expression % Let him go into society, after prayer for the aid of God's Spirit, with a stead- fast resolution, that come what may — slight, or ridi- cule, or insult — and feel what he may, — he, at all events, will not say a single irritating or irritable word. I will suppose him, by God's Grace, to keep his resolution. "What is the result ? The result is, that the trial, if it comes at all, does not last very long. If the other party is not really bent on provocation, the whole feeling passes off, — perhaps veers right round in another direction — as this want of intention becomes apparent. And if he is bent on provocation, he soon wearies of it when he is met by soft words that turn away I wraf is to rasped the principle which he instil this . -perhape he acknowledging tin 4 faull ' which an rnti' rsion of feeling towaj him in the mindofth raid an I have done' It would simply fur irritation to both mi] i pride, Pride is a [ling haughty who will bear away tri- umphant all win* minister occasion And occasion will be mil to it bj -by talking too much about Belt'— whether in the way of scli-irrat illation, or in the way of selt'-d tion. I am sure that language of t: i nonrial I pride, and if much indulged in, will probably render it id) by all means, speaking humbly of yourself to any one tQ Him whoseeth in ason is this, — pride is so inwoven into the very texture of our nature, that our ry rarely indeed humble. rpres8ioi<. Hity of j is tfu uk species qf hypocrisy. But humble words only evil in H. We I kind o ion that we are humble,- 204 Sermon at Rugby ^ come inwardly proud of our humility. The safest rule (and that which is most consistent with cour- tesy and good breeding) will be to obtrude self as little as possible on the company — to speak as little as possible about self, in order that (oh, hard attainment!) we may think as little as possible about self. All words of self-praise, all words of self-depreciation, forbidden — if this rule be minded, it will prove the restraining of many a spark, which else might fall upon and kindle the explosive material of pride. Again : as to that desire, natural to every man, of making himself entertaining and agreeable in the society in which he moves. This desire, if not restrained, often leads us to say things which were better unsaid, — to give point to some of our conversation by a jest which is questionable, or to be bitterly sarcastic, or, at least, to exaggerate and misrepresent the truth. One objectionable remark, especially if successful in exciting wonder or amusement, is enough to ensnare us. The strong desire then becomes, like the horse whose rein is slackened, uncontrollable. We must then perforce go on in the career on which we have entered, and trick out our story with embellishments, without regard to the feel- ings of our neighbour, the interests of truth, or the Majesty of God's Presence. Therefore that original error,— thai first remark, which m had better hai raBtrain such remarki is at- y impossible without bitting the hone, without ■liinial restraint upon that little member, which boasteth great tilings. 1 ii. dwell, beoau dent, upon the awful ascendancy which andean d< BT a man who allows himself to age im- pure la; h b person is indeed; by the of telling forth the abominations which I in his I ding and pampering a viper, the poison of whose fangs will speedily spread itself to his eternal ruin, through his whole SOUL This is a subject to be meditated upon in sec rather than to be spoken of in public. Suffice it that I have called vour attention in that direction, and warned those who are willing to give heed. It will have occurred, perhaps, to some of you, that in inculcating so strict a government of the rue — (and by consequence so continual a watchfulness over it) — we have been b igion with a garb of gloom and austerity, and robbing it of all mirth and tightness of hen-!. I mu- . without quenees, win herd put nth ; bid that Iieligion all alien to ] •vmeiit or inno- 206 Sermon at Rugby ^ cent mirth. Wisdom's ways are pleasantness and peace. And let me say distinctly, that I am not forbidding any words but such as God's Law pro- nounces to be evil. Innocent mirth and gaiety, laughter at that which cannot wound another person, and is not wrong, and is not profane — so far from being an evil, is in a social (nay, in a religious) point of view a decided good. And a dull or moping spirit wilfully cherished, would be as contrary to the spirit of the Gospel as it is to our natural inclinations. Christ has done all for us, if we be His true followers, — has relieved us of the load of guilt, of corrupt inclinations, of cark- ing care. If the great Burden-bearer bore those burdens for us, why are we to bear them our- selves \ Why, if I can only realize these great things, — why should not a well of joy and thank- fulness spring up within me, which shall make the heart ever merry and the countenance ever shining, and the mind accessible to all possible enjoyments which are pure ? Besides, one of the objects for which the tongue was given, is recreation; and this object would be frustrated, and life would not be relieved of its manifold little burdens, if conversation were not occasionally brightened with merriment. We HAVE BEEN ADVOCATING CONTINUAL WATCHFULNESS, NOT CONTINUAL SERIOUSNESS, OF WORDS. ally : eome wfll think that I hi deili all with . and t! might have been occupied better with n In that case I must t" my authorities :— M It' any man among you m religious, and bridled] not hi .vn heart, this man's religion is vain.' 1 ee not said any tning mow serious about wc tlian St. James and Our BlOQBOd Lord say. ticn of uo( dealing with small dut -•ally il!iN»uii(l. Life f| made np of Jl duties, amal] '1 temp- mall troubles, small fragments of happi- ness. Jt :i much upon my mind lately, that Bgleot tin all things is the height of folly, — t] only through acquitting o well on small occasions, that we can mal,- in holiness, and discipline ourselves for with poverty, bereavement, calls of Providence, arduous posts of responsibility, and :dl at occasions of life. The man who v. for a great erne: or a line opportunity, v.- and ap m, is in a fair wa; . 1 ok, never to have any religj bid, therefore, it was that last Sunday I warned yoi good conduct of each d I !', — BflBU I he good conduct raid follow. 208 Sermon at Rugby. And, therefore it is, that I now warn you to give heed to your words. I tell you, on God's Authority, that care over the words is the very secret and key of care over the life. Here I rec- ommend you to bestow a great deal of study and at- tention, — with the assurance that it will not be thrown away. And, above all, I recommend you to pray, that Grod would so fill your soul at every moment with the thought of the Majesty of His Presence, as to make the restraint of wrong words an easy task to you — aye, and to convert that re- straint into an act of continual "Worship. THE END. D. APPLETS ill I. NEW AMERICAN CYCLOPAEDIA, WPLEY AND CHAKL D. APPLETON & COMPANY, New York Id 16 Vols. 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There is no conceivable topic which is not here discussed as fully as most persons would care to find it.— American Agriculturist. It should be in every family, for in no other shape can so much useful information be obtained as cheaply. As a book of reference, it is invaluable. — Indiana Sentinel. It is, without doubt, the most complete work of the kind ever published. To prepare it, the publishers have called into requisition the talent of some of the best men our country affords.— Pennsylvanian, Philadelphia, Pa. There can be no doubt that, at least for the use of American readers, and in some respects wherever the English language is spoken, the Cyclopaedia will greatly 8UKPASS, in its value as a reference book, any similar compilation that has yet been issued on either side of the Atlantic— North American Review. Take it all in all— for the strict purposes of an Encyclopaedia; for a clear survey of all the departments of human knowledge; for embracing every important topic in this vast range; for lucid and orderly treatment; for statements con- densed yet clear ; for its portable size— not being too large or too small ; for convenience of reference, and for practical utility, especially to American readers; it is incomparably the best work in Vie English language.— K Y. Evangelist. It is a most extraordinary effort of genial scholarship and of multum inparvo erudition. We commend it as a book which the world has long wanted, and which will exert an incalculable influence in Europe as regards creating re- spect for solid American learning.- Telegrap7i, Uarnsburgh, Pa. It has been truly said that almost every man of note who ever lived and died, of whom there is record, has in it a place; every country, provmce, race, and tribe ; every sea, river, lake and island ; every science, religion, and, in short, almost every noun in the language, is descriptively illustrated in the most complete shape in which the information could be condensed.— Blade, Tole- do, 0. The various subjects are not treated accordins to the mere routine of technical details, or in the settled formularies of professional science, but, while the in- formation is full, thorough, and accurate, it is given in a genial and attractive etyle.— Tribune, Mobile, Ala. thi S BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY WILL INCREASE TO 50 CENTS ON THE FOURTH DAY AND TO $1.00 ON THE SEVENTH DAY OVERDUE. SEP t W33 l7A P r '57BC REC'D LD Dec 4 1933 1957 7No'58WM EC fcBbB 1 *^^^:" BBeDLblN0U21 , 66.ttP» 'D LD FEB IS 1941 LD 21-50m-l,'3 53 YB 29459 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY