REESE LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA.
Received ^fC*^&^r€8^
Accessions No.^I'jS.j^SS^ Shelf No
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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.
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