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 THE 
 
 YOUNG CHRISTIAN 
 
 OR 
 
 A FAMILIAR ILLUSTRATION 
 
 PRINCIPLES 
 
 CHRISTIAN DUTY 
 
 BY JACOB ABBOTT. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE 
 
 AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY 
 
 NO. 150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW-YORK. 
 
 D. Fansbaw, Printer.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1832, by PIRRCK 
 & PARKER, in the Clerk's Office of the Dictrict Court of Massa- 
 chusetts.
 
 XWTB.ODUCTION. 
 
 I. OBJECT OF THE BOOK. 
 
 THIS book is intended to explain and illustrate, in 
 a simple manner, the principles of Christian duty, 
 and is intended, not for children, nor exclusively for 
 the young, but for all who are just commencing a 
 religious life, and who feel desirous of receiving a 
 familiar explanation of the first principles of piety. 
 As it is a fact, however, that such persons are gene- 
 rally among the young, that is, from fifteen to twenty- 
 five years of age, the work has been adapted in its 
 style, and in the character of its illustrations, to their 
 mental habits. 
 
 I have, however, looked more toward childhood 
 than toward maturity in choosing the form in which 
 I have presented the truth, and the narrative or dia- 
 logue by which I have illustrated it. A young man 
 of twenty-five will look back to his boyhood, and un- 
 derstand an illustration drawn from one of its scenes, 
 far more easily than the boy can look forward to fu- 
 ture life, and comprehend and appreciate allusions 
 to the pursuits of the man. I trust that the reader 
 of mature mind, into whoee hands this book may 
 fall, will excuse this partiality for the young.
 
 4 INTRODUCTION 
 
 II. STYLE AND LANGUAGE. 
 
 I have made no effort to simplify the language. 
 It is not necessary to do this even for children. They, 
 will understand the language of maturity easily 
 enough, if the logic and rhetoric are theirs. I have 
 attempted, therefore, to present each subject in such 
 an aspect, and to illustrate it in such a way as is 
 adapted to the young mind, using, however, such 
 language as has suggested itself spontaneously. It is 
 a great but a very common error, to suppose that 
 merely to simplify diction is the way to gain access 
 to the young. Hence a sermon for children is seldom 
 any thing more than a sermon for men, with easy 
 words substituted for the hard ones. This goes on 
 the supposition that the great difficulty is to make 
 children understand religious truth. Whereas there 
 is no difficulty at all in this. The difficulty is in in- 
 teresting them in it. They will understand* readily 
 enough, if they are interested in the form and man- 
 ner in which the subject comes before them. 
 
 These principles will explain the great number of 
 narratives, and dialogues, and statements of facts 
 which are introduced to give vividness to the concep- 
 tions of my readers. Many of these are imaginary 
 cases supposed for the purpose of illustration. Where 
 this is the case, however, it is distinctly stated ; and 
 all those accounts which are introduced as state- 
 ments of facts are strictly true. I am not certain 
 but that some individuals may object to the num- 
 ber of imaginary incidents which I have thus intro- 
 duced. If the principles stated above are not consi-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 dered satisfactory, I must appeal to authority. This 
 book is not more full of parables than were the dis- 
 courses of Jesus Christ. I shelter myself under his 
 example. 
 
 III. REQUEST TO PARENTS. 
 
 Every parent knows there is great danger that 
 children will run over the pages of a book where 
 narrative and dialogue are introduced to illustrate re- 
 ligious truth, and that they will, with peculiar dex- 
 terity, find out and read all that has the interest of a 
 story, and skip the rest. There will, perhaps., in this 
 volume be less danger from this, from the fact that 
 the whole is so intimately interwoven as to render it 
 in most cases difficult to separate. A mother can, 
 however, effectually prevent it, if she pleases. If her 
 children are young, and she fears this danger, let 
 her read the book to them, or let her assign a dis- 
 tinct and a limited portion for each Sabbath ; and 
 after it is read, let her examine them in it, asking 
 questions in regard to the plan and design of the 
 chapter the circumstances of each narrative and 
 especially the purpose for which it is introduced. This 
 however must be done, not in the suspicious man- 
 ner of hearing a lesson which you fear has not been 
 loarned, but with the winning tone of kindness and 
 confidence. 
 
 IV. THEOLOGY OF THE WORK. 
 
 A.S to the theology of the work, it takes every 
 where for granted that salvation is to be obtained
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 through repentance for past sin, and trust for for- 
 giveness in the atonement of Jesus Christ. It is 
 not, however, a work on theology. It is designed to 
 enforce the practice, not to discuss the theory of re- 
 ligion. Its object is to explain and illustrate Chris- 
 tian duty ; but it exhibits this duty as based on those 
 great principles in which all denominations of evan- 
 gelical Christians concur. 
 
 V. OTHER BOOKS OF THE KIND. 
 There are already several most interesting and 
 useful books before the public, whose object is the 
 same with this to give Christian instruction to the 
 young. This work appears not as their rival, but as 
 their companion. Most young Christians have, in 
 the course of half a dozen years, time to read a great 
 many pages ; and as each writer discusses different 
 topics, or presents them in new aspects and relations, 
 it is well that this class of books should be multi- 
 plied. If twenty different individuals in various parts 
 of our country, whom Providence has placed in such 
 circumstances as to interest them particularly in 
 the young, would write for them, the books would 
 all be read if they were properly written, and would 
 all do good. They would be different, if they were 
 the results of the independent reflection and obser- 
 vation of the authors, and each would co-operate 
 with and assist the others.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. CONFESSION. 
 
 Introduction. Nature of confession. Case supposed. Story of 
 the boy's disobedience on the ice. Consequences. Their un- 
 happiness. Guilt a burden. Means of relief. The boy's con- 
 fession. His conversation with his father. Confession of little 
 faults. The torn letter. The anonymous letter. Reparation 
 compared with confession. Confession of great crimes. Pun- 
 ishment. Story of boys on the ice continued. To parents and 
 teachers. Confession a privilege. Depression of spirits. Its 
 remedy. Careless confession. Anecdote. Punishment. An 
 experiment. Story of the dulled tool. Story continued. Con- 
 fesiion to God. Anxiety unnecessary. Common mistakes. 
 Immediate repentance. Salvation by Christ, 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. THE FRIEND. 
 
 Story of an Infant School. The new scholar. The protector ap- 
 pointed. Qualifications. Power and sympathy. Story of the 
 sailor boy. The captain's want of sympathy. The little ship. 
 The Savior. His thirty years of life. Howard. Story of 
 Howard. Imaginary scene. The voluntary prisoner. The 
 Savior. The child's little difficulties. Human sympathy. The 
 murderer's cell. Sympathy for the guilty. The keeper's kind 
 ness to the prisoner. The Savior. The Savior's sympathy. 
 Common distrust ef it. Illustration. Case of the sick man. 
 Jesus Christ a physician. Struggling with temptation. The 
 benevolent teacher. The teacher imagined to become a scho- 
 lar. Howard. Sympathy of Christ. The bruised reed. The 
 metaphor of the bruised reed. 30 
 
 CHAPTER III. PRAYER. 
 
 The absent son. The father's promise. Its implied limitations. 
 Improper requests. Requests in an improper manner. The 
 letter. Our Savior's promise. Prayers denied. Power of 
 prayer. Granting requests in another form. The boy asking 
 for a knife. The sick man unexpectedly cured. Submissive 
 spirit. Prayers of the young. The packet. Description of 
 the packet. The calm. The Christian traveler. Books and
 
 8 CONTENTS. 
 
 tracts. The long passage. The approaching storm. They 
 watch the light. The storm increases. Going about. Split- 
 ting of the topsail. Danger. Protection never certain. Ob- 
 ject of prayer in danger. Socrates. His peace of mind. 
 True composure in danger. The prayer at sea. Effects. 
 Sincerity of prayer. Ardor in prayer. All can pray who 
 wish to. 
 
 A difficulty aboat selfishness. Reply. Invitation to the weary. 
 The prodigal. The nobleman. The desk. The father's re- 
 fusal. Real selfishness. Prayer of faith. The morning prayer 
 meeting. The Young Christian's difficulty. The mother. God 
 decides. A favorable answer to prayer never certain. Dan- 
 ger of perversion. The humble teacher. Conclusion. Story 
 of the ship concluded. The storm subsides. They arrive 
 safely at Provincetown. 47 
 
 CHAPTER IV. CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 
 
 Neglecting duty. Injury which this book will do. The disobe- 
 dient child. The message disregarded. The Christian mes- 
 sage. 
 
 Story of Louita. Her character. The evening meeting. Lou- 
 isa's interest in religion. Conversation with her. Increasing 
 interest. Unwilling to yield to God. Her sickness. She sends 
 for her pastor. Her alarm. Her increasing anxiety. Death- 
 bed repentance. Increasing sickness and mental suffering. 
 Danger. Louisa's despair. Her advice to her young friends. 
 Last visit. Her sufferings. She dies at midnight. Her feel- 
 ings at last. 75 
 
 CHAPTER V. ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 
 
 Almost a Christian. Louisa's case a common one. Neglecting 
 duty when it is clearly pointed out. Secret causes of continu- 
 ing in sin. First, Procrastination. The student's evening walks. 
 The admission to college. Resolutions for vacations ; for se- 
 nior years ; for future life. Now is the accepted time. Second, 
 Love of the world. Sacrifices necessary in becoming a Chris- 
 tian. Losing a friend ; an enjoyment. Third, Fear of the 
 world. Difficulties foretold by the Savior. Entire surrender 
 required. Real submission. Changing sides. Address to a 
 young man. 87 
 
 CHAPTER VI. DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 
 
 Story of the Chinese and the map. Difficulties in all subjects.
 
 CONTENTS. 8 
 
 Astronomical difficulties. Difficulties in religion to be eipect- 
 ed. First difficulty. Attempt to avoid it. Conversation con- 
 tinued. Second difficulty. Extent ol the creation. Difficul- 
 ty. The existence of suffering inexplicable. The pirate con- 
 demned to die. Accountability. Foreknowledge. Story of 
 father and son. Imaginary conversation with an infidel. An- 
 swering prayer. Case supposed. The sick son. Miraculous 
 interference in answering prayer. Sources of difficulty. Al- 
 gebra. The surd. Difficulty theoretical. None in practice. 
 Objects of this chapter. 1. Inquiries. Disobedient school-boy. 
 2. Perplexities of Christians. Way to avoid tbem. Plausible 
 reasoning sometimes unsafe. Scholars in geometry. Draw- 
 ing inferences. Story of the knights and the statue. The 
 shield of brass and iron. One kind of controversy. 3. Diffi- 
 culties of children. Children's questions. 4. Difficulties of 
 parents and teachers. The school-boy's question. A humble, 
 docile spirit. 103 
 
 CHAPTER VII. EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 The doubting clerk. The unexpected letter. The sick child. 
 Possible mistakes. Men act from re-isonabie evidence. Evi- 
 dences of Christianity, Historical, Internal, and Experimental. 
 Illustration. The phosphorus. 
 
 1. Historical Evidence. Seal. Miracles. Examining witnesses. 
 The court. The court-room. The prisoner. His accusation 
 and trial. Testimony of the owner; of the watchman. The 
 lawyer's question. The watchman's story. The prisoner con- 
 victed. Points secured on trial?. Three points to be attended 
 to. Irruption of the barbar; us. Old manuscripts. Genuine- 
 ness of the Scriptures. Quotations. Illustration. Use made 
 of quotations. Paley's Evidences. Necessity for proving the 
 genuineness of the Scriptures. The original records not re- 
 maining. The second point. Opportunities of knowing. The 
 housebreaker's trial. Sacred writers rould not have been mis- 
 taken. They were eye-witnesses. Third point. Their style 
 of writing. Impartiality. Elevated views. They were disin- 
 terested. Our Savior's farewell address. Interested witnesses. 
 Battle of Lexington. Parliament and Congress. Points prov- 
 ed. Argument from prophecy. Prophecies. False prophe- 
 cies. Subject difficult. Were the Christian witnesses believ- 
 ed 1 Contest with Paganism. Power of truth. 
 
 U. Interned Evidence. Unity of the Scriptures. The Bible a 
 number of books. Its single object. The Bible a history of 
 Christ. Sacrifices. Meaning of sacrifices. Their moral influ- 
 ence. Conclusion of the book. Appropriate language. The 
 advent of the Savior. Its time and place. The Mediterranean 
 Sea. Interesting associations. Character of God. Language 
 of nature ; of the Bible. The sufferer in the hospital. Jeho- 
 vah just as well as merciful. Butler's Analogy. 
 
 3 Experimental Evidence. Case of sickness supposed. Medi- 
 cine. Proof of it. The mother. The mother and her sick 
 1*
 
 10 CONTENTS. 
 
 ton. The unbeliever. Power of Christianity. Particular 
 case. Prisons. Old and new system of discipline Stories of 
 the convicts. The disobedient son. Conversation. Struggles 
 with sin. Second story. Nature of ardent spirit. W.'s crime. 
 Learning to read in prison. First lesson. Effect of the Bible 
 upon W. Sins against God. W.'s mental sufferings. His 
 prayer. His way of finding the 51st Psalm. His relief. Close 
 of the convicts' stories. Charlestown state prison. Old build- 
 ing. Crowded night rooms. Arms. Prison yard. Chapel. 
 Prisoners going to Sabbath school. Aspect of the school. 
 Prisoners' dress. Limited circulation of the Bible. Fear of 
 death. The sick young man. Sting of death. The dying 
 mother. Practical directions. Difficulties. Disputes. Do- 
 ing duty. 131 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 Way to study the Bible. The young man's experiment. The 
 family circle. Distribution of books. Interest of the children. 
 Particular directions. Familiar sounds. The motto in the 
 school-room. Description from the Bible. Vivid concep- 
 tions. Picturing the scene to the mind. Clear conceptions 
 West's picture of Christ rejected. Effect upon the assembly. 
 Writing questions. God's command to Abraham. Questions 
 upon the passage. Questions written by a boy. Many faulty. 
 Utility of writing questions. Many questions on one verse. 
 Experiment tried by a mother. A Sabbath school teacher. 
 Re-writing Scripture. The boy's evening work. Actual case. 
 Passage. Difficulty arising. Explanation of it. Story of Mi- 
 cah, a specimen. Two specimens on the same subject. Ques- 
 tions. Collating the Scripture". Plan tried by James and 
 John. Effect of this method. Three accounts of Paul's con- 
 version. Advantages of the plan. List of lessons. Difficulties 
 to be anticipated. Studying by subjects. The Sabbath. Je- 
 rusalem. List of topics. Too little intellectual study of the 
 Bible. Object of the historic form. Reading practically. Dai- 
 ly reading of the Bible. Useless reading. The apprentice. 
 Reading two verses aright. 221 
 
 CHAPTER IX. THE SABBATH. 
 
 1 listory ot the Sabbath. Change from Saturday to Sunday. Be- 
 ginning of the Sabbath. Idle controversies. A father's com- 
 mand to his boys. The question about the clock and the dial. 
 Universal principle. Two doves. A day of twenty-three and 
 r .Half hours. A day at the pole. A day lost. No sunset for 
 m uhs. Sabbath in Greenland. Change to first day. No 
 ch.-k" in the command. The creation. Principle important 
 Non -essentials. Liability to evasion. Human and divine laws.
 
 CONTENTS. ]J 
 
 Spirit of the law. James' way of reading the Bible. A boy 
 studying his lesson. The boat. The careful mother. Way to 
 interest children. Conversation with the children. Ingenuity 
 and effort necessary. The heart to be reached. Variety. 
 Remarks of a clergyman. Necessity of variety. Religious 
 books. Way of spending the Sabbath. Various duties. Sys- 
 tem in religious exercises. Waste of time prevented. Rest 
 on the Sabbath. Distinct duties to be performed. Way to 
 make self-examination interesting and useful. Minuteness of 
 self-examination. Prayer. Studying the Bible, and conversa- 
 tion on the Sabbath. Frivolous conversation. Public worship. 
 Responsibility of the hearers. The farmer and his boys. Duty 
 of the hearers to be interested. Sinister motives at church. 
 Way to detect them. Heartless worship. Way in which it is 
 indicated. Appearance of evil. The summer evening. A 
 Walk. Walking, riding, sailing on the Sabbath. 257 
 
 CHAPTER X. TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 
 
 . Nature of Trial. The steam-boat on trial. Efforts of the en- 
 gineer. Improvements. Final results. Her power. Safe 
 nd successful action. Life a time of trial. Trials of child- 
 hood. The child and the forbidden book. Commands. Pain. 
 Advantage of trial in childhood. Putting playthings out of 
 reach. Conversation with a mother. Trials not to be shunned. 
 Instruction and practice. The merchants' plan for his son. A 
 voyage of difficulty. Its effects. 
 
 . The uses of Tried. Self-knowledge. The deceived mother. 
 True submission distinguished from false. The engineer was 
 watchful. Trial a means of improvement. The boy studying 
 division. The moral and arithmetical question. Practical di 
 rections. God's providence universal. Losses of every kind 
 from God. The careless engineer. Neglect of duty. Con- 
 cluding remarks. 295 
 
 CHAPTER XI. PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 . Moral Improvement. General improvement a Christian duty. 
 Moral improvement. Faults. The vain boy. Way to reform 
 him. Conversation with his father. Instances of vanity. The 
 boy's list. Effect of this confession. Secret confession to be 
 minute. Secret prayer often too general. Way to make 
 prayer interesting. Formal confession. Excuses. Way to 
 make secret prayer interesting. Private prayer. Examples of 
 minute confession. The father's letter. Object of this illustra- 
 tion. Faults to be corrected. Young and old persons. Other 
 means of correcting faults. Exposure to temptation. Conver- 
 sation between the boy and his friend. Great and small temp- 
 tations,
 
 158 CONTENTS. 
 
 Growing in grace. Unavailing efforts. The mother. The man 
 of business. The dejected Christian. Direct efforts. Free- 
 dom of feeling and freedom of action. Way to mold the 
 heart. Metaphysical controversy. Story of the Duke of 
 Gloucester. Richard's artful plan. The council. Violent 
 measures. Murder of the boys. Analysis of the story. Rich- 
 ard's wicked character. Sense in which character is volunta 
 ry. Distinction between character and conduct. Importance 
 of it. Moral obligation. Ways of influencing the character. 
 Effect of Christian knowledge. The mother. The child. Gra- 
 titude. Christian action. Why Howard became interested 
 for prisoners. Paul. Dependence upon the Holy Spirit. An 
 evil heart. Divine influence necessary. 
 
 2. Intellectual Improvement. A finished education. Object of 
 education. 1. To strengthen the powers. Robinson Crusoe's 
 supposed experiment with Friday. Conic Sections. Difficult 
 studies. 2. Acquisition of knowledge. 3. Skill. Three expe- 
 riments with Friday. Teaching him to count. Study of Ma- 
 thematics. Imperfect education. Neglect of important duties. 
 Intellectual progress of a young mother. 1. Reading. Sys- 
 tem. Variety. Thorough reading. Short works. 2. Co;j- 
 versation. Difficulty of cultivating it. Means of cultivating it. 
 Experiments proposed. Plans and experiments. Digesting 
 knowledge. 3. Writing. Private Journals. Form and rnan- 
 nef. Running titles. Family Journal. By brothers and sis- 
 ters. Its advantages. Subjects. Notes and abstracts. True 
 design of taking notes. Form of books. Plan. Variety. 
 Specimens. Reynolds. Humboldt. Chronology. Syna- 
 gogues. History of the Bible. Sir Humphrey Davy. Story 
 of the sea Captain. Hiring children. The Savior's thirst on 
 the cross. Deceiving children. Narratives. Ellen, or boast 
 not thyself of to-morrow. The dying bed. The patient's in- 
 terest in religion. Her address to her husband. Her affecting 
 remarks to her children. Moral aspects of what is seen and 
 beard. Power of the pen. 316 
 
 CHAPTER XII. CONCLUSION. 
 
 Responsibility of religious teachers. Injury to be done by this 
 book. Imperfect self-application. A useless way of reading. 386
 
 THE 
 
 YOUN& CHRISTIAN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CONFESSION. 
 1 Confess your faults one to another." 
 
 Introduction. Nature of Confession. Case supposed. 
 
 I wish, in this first chapter, to point out to my reader 
 something in the nature and effects of confession which 
 every one has perhaps, at some time, experienced, but 
 which few sufficiently consider I mean its power to 
 bring peace and happiness to the heart. But to make 
 myself clearly understood, I must suppose a case. 
 
 Two boys, on a pleasant winter evening, ask their 
 father to permit them to go out upon the river to skate. 
 The father hesitates, because, though within certain 
 limits he knows there is no danger, yet he is aware that 
 above a certain turn of the stream the current is rapid 
 and the ice consequently thin. At last, however, he 
 says, "You may go, but you must on no account go 
 above the bend." 
 
 The boys accept the condition, and are soon among 
 their twenty companions, shooting swiftly over the 
 smooth black ice, sometimes gliding in graceful curves 
 before the bright fire, which they have built in the mid- 
 dle of the stream, and sometimes sailing away into the 
 dim distance, in search of new and unexplored regions. 
 
 Presently a plan is formed by the other boys for going 
 in a cheerful company far up the stream to explore its 
 shores, and then return again in half an hour to their
 
 14 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 1 
 
 Story of ilie boys' disobedience on the ice. Consequences. 
 
 fire. Our two boys sigh to think of their father's pro- 
 hibition to them. They faintly and hesitatingly hint 
 that the ice may not be strong enough, but their caution 
 has no efl'cct upon their comrades, and the whole set 
 forth, and soon are flying with full speed toward the 
 limit prescribed. Our boys think they may safely ac- 
 company them till they reach the boundary which they 
 are forbidden to pass ; but while they do so, they 
 become animated and intoxicated with the motion and 
 the scene. They feel a little foreboding as they approach 
 the line, but as it is not definitely marked, they do not 
 abruptly stop. They fall a little in the rear, and see 
 whirling through the bend of the river the whole crowd 
 of their companions and, after a moment's hesitation, 
 they follow on. The spot once past, their indecision 
 vanishes ; they press forward to the foremost rank, 
 forget their father, their promise, their danger. God 
 protects them however. They spend the half hour in 
 ^delight, return down the river to their fire, and at the 
 close of the evening they take off their skates and step 
 upon the firm ground, and walk toward their home. 
 
 The enjoyment is now over, and the punishment is to 
 come. What punishment? I do not mean that their 
 father will punish them. He knows nothing of it. He 
 trusts his boys, and, confiding in their promise, he will 
 not ask them whether they have kept it. They have re- 
 turned safely, and the forbidden ice over which they 
 have passed never can speak to tell of their disobe- 
 dience. Nor do I mean the punishment which God 
 will inflict in another world upon undutiful children. I 
 mean another quicker punishment, and which almost 
 alway comes after transgression. And I wish my young 
 readers would think of this more than they do. 
 
 I mean the loss of peace of mind. 
 
 As the boys approach their father's dwelling, unless 
 their consciences have become seared by oft repeated
 
 Ch. l.J CONFESSION. 15 
 
 Their unhappinets. Guilt a burden. Means of Relief. 
 
 transgressions, their hearts are filled with uneasiness and 
 foreboding care. They walk slow and silently. As they 
 enter the house they shrink from their father's eye. He 
 looks pleased and happy at their safe return. But they 
 turn away from him as soon as they can, and prefer 
 going to another room, or in some other way avoiding 
 his presence. Their sister perhaps, in the gaiety and 
 kindness of her heart, tries to talk with them about their 
 evening's enjoyment, but they wish to turn the con- 
 versation. In a word, their peace of mind is gone, 
 and they shrink from every eye, and wish to go as soon 
 as possible to bed, that they maybe unseen and forgotten. 
 
 If they have been taught to fear God, they are not 
 happy here. They dare not strange infatuation, re- 
 peat their evening prayer; as if they supposed they 
 could escape God's notice by neglecting to call upon 
 him. At lasthowerer they sink to sleep. 
 
 The next morning they awake with the customary 
 cheerfulness of childhood until, as they look forth from 
 their window, they see the clear ice-bound stream, 
 which tempted them to sin, winding its way among the 
 trees. They say nothing, but each feels guilty and sad. 
 They meet their father and mother with clouded hearts, 
 and every object at all connected with their transgres- 
 sion awakens the remorse which destroys their happi- 
 ness. They carry thus about with them a weary and a 
 heavy burden. 
 
 I suppose that in such cases most boys would continue 
 to bear this burden ; until at last they should become 
 insensible to it, i. c. until conscience is seared. Ent 
 though by habit in sin the stings of remorse may be 
 blunted, yet peace never would return. By repeating 
 transgression a great many times, we all come at last to 
 feel a general and settled uneasiness of heart, which is 
 a constant burden. Ask such an individual if he is 
 unhappy. He tells you no. He means however that he
 
 16 YOUNG CHUI3TIAX. [Cll. 1 
 
 The Boy's confession. His conversation with his father. 
 
 is not particularly unhappy just at that time. His bur 
 den is so uniform and constant that he comes to 
 consider it al last as a necessary part of his existence 
 He has lost all recollection of what pure peace and 
 happiness is. A man who has lived long by a waterfall, 
 at last becomes so habituated to the noise, that silence 
 seems a strange luxury to him. So multitudes, who 
 have had an unquiet conscience for many years, without 
 a single interval of repose, when they at last come and 
 confess their sins, and find peace and happiness, are sur- 
 prised and delighted with the new and strange sensation. 
 
 This peace cannot come by habit in sin. A seared 
 conscience is not a relieved one. But what is the way 
 by which peace of mind is to be restored in such a case 
 as the above? It is a very simple way. I wish it was 
 more generally understood and practised. 
 
 Suppose one of these boys should say to himself, 
 some day as he is walking alone, " I am not happy, and 
 I have not been happy since I disobeyed my father on 
 the ice. I was very foolish to do that, for I have suf- 
 fered more in consequence than ten times as much 
 pleasure would be worth. I am resolved to go and 
 confess the whole to my father, and ask him to forgive 
 i^e, and then I shall be happy again." 
 
 Having resolved upon this, he seeks the very fivst 
 opportunity to relieve his mincl. He is walking, we will 
 imagine, by the side of his father, and for several minutes 
 he hesitates not knowing how to begin. He makes 
 however at last the effort, and says in a sorrowful tone, 
 
 " Father, I have done something very wrong." 
 
 "What is it, my son?" 
 
 He hesitates and trembles, and after a moment's 
 pause, says, " I am very sorry that I did it." 
 
 " My son," says the father, " I have observed, for a 
 day or two, that you have not been happy, and you are 
 evidently unhappy now. I know that you must have
 
 Cll. I.] CONFESSION. 17 
 
 Confession of little faults. Happiness. 
 
 done something wrong. But you may do just as you 
 please about telling me what it is. If you freely confess 
 it, and submit to the punishment, whatever it may be, 
 you will be happy again ; if not, you will continue to 
 suffer. Now you may do just as you please." 
 
 " Well, father, I will tell you all. Do you remember 
 that you gave us leave to go upon the river and skate 
 the other evening ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, I disobeyed you, and went upon the ice, 
 where you told us not to go. I have been unhappy 
 ever since, and I resolved to-day that I would come and 
 tell you, and ask you to forgive me." 
 
 I need not detail the conversation that would follow 
 But there is not a child among the hundreds and perhaps 
 thousands who will read this chapter, who does not 
 fully understand, that by such a confession the boy 
 will relieve himself of his burden, restore peace to his 
 mind, and go away from his father with a light and 
 happy heart. He will no more dread to meet him, and 
 to hear the sound of his voice. He can now be happy 
 with his sister again, and look upon the beautiful stream 
 winding in the valley, without feeling his heart sink 
 within him under a sense of guilt, while all the time, 
 perhaps, his brother, who would not come and acknow- 
 ledge his sin, has his heart still darkened, and his coun- 
 tenance made sad by the gloomy recollection of unfor- 
 given sin. Yes, confession of sin has an almost magic 
 power in restoring peace of mind. 
 
 Providence seems to have implanted this principle in 
 the human heart, for the express purpose of having us 
 act upon it. He has so formed us, that when we have 
 done wrong we cannot feel at peace again until we 
 have acknowledged our wrong to the person against 
 whom it was done. And this acknowledgment of it 
 
 O 
 
 removes the uneasiness as effectually as fire removes
 
 18 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Oh. 1. 
 
 The torn letter. Peace of mind. 
 
 cold, or as water extinguishes fire. It operates in all 
 cases, small as well as great, and is infallible in its 
 power. And yet how slowly do young persons and 
 even old persons learn to use it. The remedies for 
 almost every external evil are soon discovered, and are 
 at once applied ; but the remedy for that uneasiness of 
 mind which results from having neglected some duty or 
 committed some sin, and which consists in simple con- 
 fession of it to the person injured, how slowly k it 
 learned, and how reluctantly practised. 
 
 I once knew a boy who was intrusted with a letter to 
 be carried to a distant place. On his way, or just after 
 his arrival, in attempting to take the letter out of his 
 pocket suddenly, he tore it completely in two. He was 
 in consternation. What to do he did not know. He 
 did not dare to carry the letter in its mangled condition, 
 and he did not dare to destroy it. He did accordingly 
 the most foolish thing he could do ; he kept it for 
 many days, doubting and waiting, and feeling anxious 
 and unhappy, whenever it came in his sight. At last he 
 thought that this was folly, and he took his letter, car- 
 ried it to the person to whom it was addressed, saying, 
 
 " Here is a letter which I was intrusted with for you, 
 and in taking it out of my pocket, I very carelessly tore 
 it in two. I am sorry for it, but I have no excuse." 
 
 The receiver of the letter said it was no matter, and 
 the boy went home, suddenly, and entirely relieved. 
 
 My reader will say, " Why, this was a very simple 
 way of getting over the difficulty. Why did not he 
 think of it before ?" 
 
 I know it was a simple way. The whole story is so 
 simple, that it is hardly dignified enough to introduce 
 here ; but it is true, and it exactly illustrates the idea I 
 am endeavoring to enforce, viz., that in little things, as 
 well as in great things, the confession of sin restores 
 peace of mind.
 
 Ch. 1.] CONFESSION 19 
 
 The anonymous letter. Reparation compared with confession. 
 
 I will no\v mention one other case which illustrates 
 the same general truth, but which is in one respect very 
 different from all the preceding. 
 
 A merchant was one morning sitting in his counting 
 room, preparing for the business of the day, when his 
 boy entered with several letters from the Post Office. 
 Among them was one in a strange hand-writing and with 
 the words, "Money inclosed," written upon the outside. 
 As the merchant was not at that time expecting any mo- 
 ney, his attention was first attracted to this letter. He 
 opened it and read somewhat as follows : 
 
 , January 4, 1831. 
 
 " SIR, 
 
 " Some time ago I defrauded you of some money. 
 You did not know it then, and I suppose you never would 
 have known it, unless I had informed you. But I have 
 had no peace of mind since it was done, and send you 
 back the money in this letter. Hoping that God will 
 forgive this and all my other sins, 
 " I am, yours, 
 
 1 remarked that this case was totally different from all 
 the others in one respect. Reader, do you notice the 
 difference? It consists in this, viz. that here not only 
 was the sin confessed, but reparation was made. The 
 man not only acknowledged the fraud, but he paid back 
 the money. And if any of my readers are but little 
 acquainted with human nature, they may perhaps ima- 
 gine that it was the reparation, and not the confession, 
 which restored peace of mind. But I think I can show 
 very clearly, that making reparation is not effectual. 
 Suppose this man, instead of writing the above letter, 
 had just come into the store and asked to buy some 
 article or other, and in paying for it, had managed dex- 
 terously to put into the hands of the clerk a lai ger sum
 
 20 YOUNG CHRISTIAN*. [Cll. 1 
 
 Confession of great crimes. Effects of confession. 
 
 than was due, so as to repay, without the merchant's 
 knowledge, the whole amount of which he had defrauded 
 him Do you think this would have restored his peace 
 of mind? No, not even if he had thus secretly paid 
 back double what he had unjustly taken. It was the 
 confession ; the acknowledgment of having done wrong, 
 which really quieted his troubled conscience, and gave 
 him peace. 
 
 It is not probable that this confession was sufficient 
 to make him perfectly happy again, because it was 
 incomplete. The reparation was perfect, but the ac- 
 knowledgment was not. The reader will observe that 
 the letter has no name signed to it, and the merchant 
 could not by any means discover who was the writer of 
 it. Now if the man had honestly told the whole if he 
 had written his name and place of residence, and de- 
 scribed fully all the circumstances of the original fraud, 
 he would have been much more fully relieved. All 
 confession which is intended to bring back peace of 
 mind when it is gone, should be open and thorough. 
 There are, indeed, many cases where, from peculiai 
 circumstances, it is not the duty of the individual to give 
 his name. This, however, does not affect the general 
 principle, that the more full and free the confession is, 
 the more perfect will be the restoration of peace. 
 
 So strongly is this principle fixed by the Creator in 
 the human heart, that men who have committed crimes 
 to which the laws of the land annex the most severe 
 public punishments, after enduring some time in secrecy 
 the remorse which crime almost always brings, have at 
 last openly come forward, and surrendered themselves 
 to the magistrate, and acknowledged their guilt, and 
 have felt their hearts relieved and lightened by receiving 
 an ignominious public punishment, in exchange for the 
 inward tortures of remorse. Even a murderer has been 
 known to come forward to relieve the horrors of his
 
 Cll. 1.] CONFESSION. 21 
 
 Punishment. Story of the boys on the ice continued. 
 
 soul by confession, though he knew that this confes- 
 sion would chain him in a dark stone cell, and after a 
 short, but gloomy interval, extend him in a coffin. 
 
 My reader, you can try the power of confession, and 
 enjoy the relief and happiness it will bring, without 
 paying such a fearful price as this ; but these cases lead 
 me to remark upon one other subject connected with 
 confession I mean punishment. Sometimes as I be- 
 fore remarked, when a person confesses some wrong, he 
 brings himself under the necessity of repairing the in- 
 jury done, and at other times of submitting to punish- 
 ment. Parents often forgive their children when they 
 have done wrong, if they will only confess it ; and 
 though this ought sometimes to be done, there is yet 
 great danger that children, in such cases, will soon 
 acquire a habit of doing wrong, and then coming to 
 confess it with a careless air, as if it was not of much 
 consequence, or rather as if confessing the sin destroyed 
 it, and left them perfectly innocent. 
 
 I should think, on this account, that the father whose 
 sons had disobeyed him on the ice, would be much at a 
 loss to know what to do, after one of his boys had so 
 frankly acknowledged it. I can suppose him saying to 
 his son, " Well, my son, I am glad you have told me 
 freely all about this. You did very wrong, and I am 
 very mych at a loss to know what I ought to do. I will 
 consider it, and speak to you by and by about it. In 
 the mean time you may be assured that I forgive you 
 from my heart, and if I should conclude to do any thing 
 farther, it will not be because I am now displeased, but 
 because I wish to save you effectually from the sad 
 consequence of doing wrong in future." 
 
 When the father is left to muse by himself upon the 
 subject, we may imagine him to be thinking as follows. 
 
 " Well, I should not have thought that my boys would 
 have broken their promise and disobeyed me. I wonder
 
 22 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. Cll. 1. 
 
 To parents and teachers. Confession a privilege. 
 
 if my eldest disobeyed also. The youngest only spoke 
 of himself shall I ask him ? No. Each shall stand on 
 independent ground. If the other sinned too, he too 
 may come voluntarily and obtain peace by confession, 
 or he must continue to bear the tortures of self-reproach. 
 And now if I take no further notice of the transgression, 
 which is already acknowledged, I am afraid that my son 
 will the next time yield more easily to temptation, think- 
 ing that he has only to acknowledge it, to be forgiven. 
 Shall I forbid their skating any more this winter ? or 
 for a month ? or shall I require them, every time they 
 return, to give me an exact account where they have 
 been ? I wish I could forgive and forget it entirely, but 
 I am afraid I ought not." 
 
 Thus he would be perplexed ; and if he was a wise 
 parent, and under the influence of moral principle, and 
 not of mere parental feeling, he would probably do 
 something more than merely pass it by. The boy would 
 find that confession to such a father is not merely 
 nominal, that it brings with it inconvenience, or depri- 
 vation of enjoyment, or perhaps positive punishment. 
 Still he would rejoice in the opportunity to acknowledge 
 his sins ; for the loss of a little pleasure, or the suffering 
 of punishment, he would feel to be a very small price tc 
 pay for returning peace of mind, and he would fly to 
 confession, as a refuge from self-reproach, whenever he 
 had done wrong. 
 
 Let the parents or the teachers who may read this, 
 take this view of the nature of confession, and practice 
 upon it in their intercourse with their children and their 
 pupils. Let them meet them kindly when they come 
 forward to acknowledge their faults. Sympathize with 
 them in the struggle, which you know they must make 
 at such a time, and consider how strong the temptation 
 was which led them to sin. And in every thing of the 
 nature of punishment which you inflict, be sure the pre~
 
 Ch. 1,J CONFESSION, 
 
 Depression of spirits. Us remedy. 
 
 vention of future guilt is your sole motive, and not the 
 gratification of your own present feeling of displeasure. 
 If this is done, those under your care will soon value 
 confession as a privilege, and will often seek in it a 
 refuge from inward suffering. 
 
 Yes, an opportunity to acknowledge wrong of any 
 kind, is a great privilege, and if any of my readers are 
 satisfied that what I have been advancing on this subject 
 is true, I hope they will prove by experiment the cor- 
 rectness of these principles. Almost every person has 
 at all times some little sources of uneasiness upon his 
 mind. They are not very well defined in their nature 
 and cause, but still they exist, and they very much dis- 
 turb the happiness. Now if you look within long 
 enough to seize hold of and examine these feelings of 
 secret uneasiness, you will find that, in almost every 
 case, they are connected with something wrong which 
 you have done. That anxious brow of yours then is 
 clouded with remorse : we call it by soft names, as 
 care, solicitude, perplexity, but it is generally a slight 
 remorse, so weak as not to force its true character 
 upon your notice, but yet strong enough to destroy peace 
 of mind. A great deal of what is called depression of 
 spirits arises from this source. There are duties which 
 you do not faithfully discharge : or inclinations which 
 you habitually indulge when you know they ought to 
 be denied. Conscience keeps up, therefore, a continual 
 murmur, but she murmurs so gently that you do not 
 recognise her voice and yet it destroys your rest. You 
 feel restless and unhappy, and wonder what can be the 
 cause. 
 
 Let no one now say or even suppose that I think that all 
 the depression of spirits which exists in human hearts is 
 nothing but a secret sense of guilt. I know that there 
 is real solicitude about the future, unconnected with re 
 mor&e for the past ; and there is often a sinking of the
 
 2^4 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 1 
 
 Careless confession. Anecdote. 
 
 spirits in disease, which moral remedies will not touch. 
 These cases are, however, comparatively few. A far 
 greater proportion of the restlessness and of the corrocl 
 ing cares of human hearts is produced, or at least very 
 much aggravated by being connected with guilt. 
 
 I suppose some of my readers are going over these 
 pages only for amusement. They will be interested, 
 perhaps, in the illustrations, and if of mature or cultiva- 
 ted minds, in the point to which I am endeavoring to 
 make them tend. I hope, however, that there are some 
 who are reading really and honestly for the sake of 
 moral improvement. To those I would say : Do you 
 never feel unquiet in spirit, restless or sad? Do you 
 never experience a secret uneasiness of heart, of which 
 you do not know the exact cause, but which destroys, or 
 at least disturbs your peace? If you do, take this 
 course. Instead of flying from those feelings when they 
 come into your heart, advance boldly to meet them. 
 Grasp and examine them. Find their cause. You will 
 find in nine cases out of ten that their cause is something' 
 wrong in your own conduct or character. Young per- 
 sons will generally find something wrong towards their 
 parents. Now go and confess these faults. Do not en- 
 deavor to palliate or excuse them, but endeavor on the 
 other hand to see their worst side, and if you confess 
 them freely and fully, and resolve to sin no more, peace 
 will return, at least, so far as these causes have banished 
 it from your heart. 
 
 After I had written thus far, I read these pages to a gen- 
 tleman who visited me, and he remarked that before I 
 closed the chapter, I ought to caution my readers against 
 acquiring the habit of doing wrong and then coming 
 carelessly to confess it, without any real sorrow, as 
 though the acknowledgment atoned for the sin and 
 wiped all the guilt away. 
 
 I was once,' said he. ' visiting in a family, and while
 
 Ch. i.] CONFESSION. 25 
 
 Heartless confession. An experiment. 
 
 we were sitting at the fire, a little boy came in and did 
 some wanton, wilful mischief. 
 
 " Why, my child," said the mother, " see what you 
 have done. That was very wrong; but you are sorry 
 for it, I suppose. Are you not?" 
 
 " Yes, Ma," said the boy carelessly, running away at 
 the same time to play. 
 
 " Yes," said the mother, " he is sorry. He does wrong 
 sometimes, but then he is always sorry for it and acknow- 
 ledges it. You are sorry now, are you not, my son ?" 
 
 " Yes, Ma" said the boy, as he ran capering about the 
 room, striking the furniture and his little sister with his 
 whip. 
 
 My friend thought there was some danger that this 
 sort of confession might be made. And it is undoubted- 
 ly often made. But it does no good. Confession must 
 come from the heart, or it will not relieve or improve 
 the heart. 
 
 This anecdote shows the necessity of some punishment 
 in all governments. If a father forgives the disobedience 
 of his children simply upon their confessing it I mean 
 if he makes this his settled and regular course his chil- 
 dren will often disobey, expecting to make peace by con- 
 fession as a matter of course ; and the confession will thus 
 not only become an useless form, but will become the 
 very lure which tempts them to sin. 
 
 A teacher once made a rule, that if any irregularity oc- 
 curred in any of the classes, the assistant who heard the 
 classes was to send the person in fault to him. At first 
 the pupils felt this very much. One and another would 
 come with tears in their eyes to acknowledge some fault, 
 although it was perhaps only a very slight one. The 
 teacher inflicted no punishment, but asked them to be 
 careful in future, and sent them away kindly. Soon, 
 however, they began to feel less penitent when they had 
 done wrong. They came more and more as a matter of 
 
 2
 
 26 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 1. 
 
 Sincere confession. Story of the dulled tool. 
 
 form, until at last th'ey would come and state their fault 
 as carelessly as if they were merely giving their teacher 
 a piece of indifferent information. No ; confession must 
 never be understood as making any atonement for sin. 
 Whenever you acknowledge that you have done wrong, 
 do it with sincere penitence, and with a spirit which 
 would lead you to make all the reparation in your power, 
 if it is a case which admits of reparation, to submit to 
 the just punishment, if any is inflicted, and always to 
 resolve most firmly that you will sin no more. 
 
 Let all my readers, then, whether old or young, look 
 at once around them, and seek diligently for every thing 
 wrong which they have done toward their fellows, and 
 try the experiment of acknowledging the wrong in every 
 case, that they may see how much such a course will 
 bring peace and happiness to their hearts. When, how- 
 ever, I say that every thing wrong ought to be acknow- 
 ledged, I do not mean that it is, in every case, necessary 
 to make a formal confession in language. Acknow- 
 ledgments may be made by actions, as distinctly and as 
 cordially as by words. An example will best illustrate 
 this. 
 
 A journeyman in a carpenter's shop borrowed a plane 
 of his comrade, and in giving it back to him, it was ac- 
 cidentally dropped and dulled. The lender maintained 
 that the borrower ought to sharpen it, while the borrower 
 said that it was not his fault, and an angry controversy 
 arose between them. It would have taken but a few 
 minutes to have sharpened the instrument, but after hav- 
 ing once contended about it, each was determined not to 
 yield. The plane was laid down in its damaged state, 
 each declaring that he would not sharpen it. 
 
 The borrower however did not feel easy, and as he 
 lay down that night to rest, the thought of his foolish 
 contention made him unhappy. He reflected too, that 
 since his friend had been willing to lend him his instru-
 
 Ch. 1.] CONFESSION. 27 
 
 Story continued. Confession to God. 
 
 ment, he ought to have borne, himself, all the risk of its 
 return. He regretted that he nad refused to do what 
 now, on cool reflection, he saw was clearly his duty. 
 
 On the following morning, therefore, he went half an 
 hour earlier than usual to the shop, and while alone there, 
 with the help of grindstone and hone, he put the unfor- 
 tunate plane in the best possible order, laid it in its 
 proper place and when his companion came in, he said 
 to him pleasantly, 
 
 " I wish you would try your plane, and see how it cuts 
 this morning." 
 
 Now was not this a most full and complete acknow- 
 ledgment of having been wrong ? And yet there is not a 
 syllable of confession in language. Any way by which 
 you can openly manifest your conviction that you have 
 done wrong, and your determination to do so no more, 
 is sufficient. The mode best for the purpose will vary 
 with circumstances. Sometimes bywords, sometimes by 
 writing, and sometimes by action. The only thing that 
 is essential is, that the heart should feel what in these 
 various ways it attempts to express. 
 
 I doubt not now, but that many of my readers, who 
 have taken up this book with a desire to find religious in- 
 struction in it, have been for some time wishing to have 
 me come to the subject of the confession of sin to God. 
 You feel that the greatest of all your transgressions have 
 been against him ; and that you can have no true peace 
 of mind until he has forgiven you. I have no doubt 
 that this is the state of mind of very many of those who 
 will read this chapter. But confession of sin is the same 
 in its nature and tendency when made to God as when 
 made to your fellow man. When you have finished this 
 chapter then, shut the book, and go alone before your 
 Maker, and acknowledge all your sins. Acknowledge 
 them frankly and fully, and try to see and feel the worst 
 not by merely calling your offences by harsh names, but
 
 28 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 1. 
 
 Anxiety unnecessary. Common mistakes. 
 
 by calmly looking at the aggravating circumstances. 
 While you do this, do not spend your strength in trying 
 to feel strong emotion. You cannot feel emotion by 
 merely trying to feel it. There is no necessity of pro- 
 longed terror, no need of agony of body or of mind, 
 no need of gloom of countenance. Just go and sincerely 
 acknowledge your sins to God, and ask him to forgive 
 you through Jesus Christ, and he will. 
 
 But perhaps some of you will say, "I am surprised to 
 hear you say that there is no need of strong agitation of 
 mind, before we can be forgiven for sin. I am sure the. 
 there often is very strong feeling of this kind. There ia 
 terror and agony of mind, and afterward the individual 
 becomes a sincere Christian." 
 
 It is true, there is sometimes strong and continued 
 agitation, but it is only because those who suffer it are 
 unwilling to yield to God and confess their sins to him. 
 As soon as this unwillingness is gone, and they come to 
 their God and Savior with all their hearts, the mental 
 suffering vanishes. I said that if you were willing now 
 to confess your sins to God with sincere penitence, you 
 may at once be happy. Of course, if you are unwilling, 
 if you see that you are sinning against him, and will not 
 come and make peace, you then have indeed cause to 
 tremble. 
 
 There is a great mistake prevalent on this subject, es- 
 pecially among the young, though the subject is often 
 clearly enough explained, both from the press and the 
 pulpit. God's command is, repent at once, and believe 
 on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall have peace. I 
 have, in this chapter, used the word confess, instead of 
 repent, for sincere confession is only a manifestation of 
 penitence. Now I do not find that the Bible requires 
 any thing previous to repentance. It does not say that 
 we must be miserable a week or a day or an hour. I 
 never heard any minister urge upon his hearers the duty
 
 Ch. 1.] CONFESSION. 29 
 
 Immediate repentance. Salvation by Christ. 
 
 of suffering anguish of mind, and all the horrors of re- 
 morse, a single moment, in order to prepare the soul for 
 Christ. It is doubtless true, that persons do often thus 
 suffer, and are perhaps led by it in the end to fly to the 
 refuge. But they ought to have fled to the refuge with- 
 out this suffering in the beginning. The truth is, thai 
 God commands " men every where to repent." It is a 
 notorious fact, that they will not comply. When the 
 duty of humbly confessing their sins to God is clearly 
 brought before them, there is often so great a desire to 
 continue in sin, that a very painful struggle continues 
 for some time. Now this struggle is all our own fault, 
 it is something that toe add altogether; God does not 
 require it. He says come to me at once. Ministers in 
 the pulpit do not urge this continued struggle, while sin 
 is cherished in the heart ; so far from desiring it are they, 
 that they urge their hearers to come at once to the Sa- 
 vior and be happy ; and when any of their hearers are 
 suffering in consequence of their indecision, the pastor, 
 so far from wishing them to continue in this state as 8 
 part of their duty, urges them with all his power to ter- 
 minate it at once, by giving up their hearts to God and 
 to happiness. And yet so reluctant are men to give up 
 their hearts to God, and so exceedingly common is this 
 guilty struggle, that by the young it is often considered 
 as a painful part of duty. They think they cannot be- 
 come Christians without it. Some try to awaken it and 
 continue it, and are sad because they cannot succeed. 
 Others, who are serving their Maker, and endeavoring 
 to grow in grace and to prepare for heaven, feel but 
 little confidence in his sympathy or affection for them, 
 because just before they concluded to yield to God sin 
 did not make such violent and desperate efforts in their 
 hearts, as in some others, to retain its hold. 
 
 No, my reader, there is no necessity of any prolonged 
 struggle, or suffering. If this chapter has led you to be
 
 30 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 1. 
 
 Story of the infant school. The new scholar. 
 
 willing- to confess your sins, you may confess them now, 
 and from this moment be calm, and peaceful, and happy. 
 My readers will recollect that I mentioned in the early 
 part of this chapter two points connected with confes- 
 sion, viz. reparation and punishment. In confessing sins 
 to God, we have no reparation to make to him, and no 
 punishment to suffer. We have a Savior, and we fly to 
 him. He makes reparation, and he has already suffered 
 for us. We must come trusting in him. I hope very 
 many of my readers will see that both duty and happi- 
 ness urge them to take the simple course I have endea- 
 vored to describe and illustrate, and that they will now 
 take it, and follow me through the remaining chapters of 
 this book with hearts bent on loving and serving God. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE FRIEND. 
 " To whom shall we go ?" 
 
 There is a very excellent infant school in one of the 
 chief towns of Switzerland, where many young children 
 are collected under the care of a most kind and faithful 
 superintendent and assistant, to receive moral and intel- 
 lectual instruction. Whenever a new pupil is admitted, 
 she looks with fear and trembling upon the strange 
 scene before her. A large open room is filled with the 
 children standing in rows or collected in busy groups, 
 and m the pleasant play-ground, verdant with grass and 
 trees, many others are seen full of activity and happiness. 
 
 It is the custom whenever a new scholar enters the 
 school, for the teacher to collect all the children in the 
 great room, extending them in a line around it ; and then 
 he walks into the midst, leading the little stranger by the
 
 Ch. 2.] THE FRIEND. 31 
 
 The protector appointed. Power and sympathy. 
 
 hand, and something like the following conversation 
 ensues. 
 
 Teacher. " Here is a little girl who has come to join 
 our school. She is a stranger, and is afraid. Will you 
 all promise to treat her kindly ?" 
 
 Pupils. (All answering together.) " Yes, Sir, we 
 will." 
 
 Teacher. " She has told me that she will try to be a 
 good girl and to do her duty, but sometimes she will for- 
 get, I am afraid, and sometimes she will yield to tempta- 
 tion and do wrong. Now which of the older children 
 will be her little friend, to be with her for a few days till 
 she becomes acquainted with the school, and tell her what 
 she ought to do, and help her to watch herself, that she 
 may avoid doing wrong ? 
 
 Several voices at once. " I will, I will, Sir." 
 
 The teacher then selects from those who thus volun- 
 teer, one of the best and oldest children, and constitutes 
 her the friend and protector of the stranger. They are 
 together wherever they go. A strong mutual attachment 
 springs up between them. If the stranger is injured in 
 any way, the protector feels aggrieved : kindness shown 
 to one touches almost as effectually the other, and thus 
 the trembling stranger is guided and encouraged, and led 
 on to duty and to strength by the influence of her protec- 
 tor, though that protector is only another child. 
 
 We all need a protector, especially in our moral inte- 
 rests. The human heart seems to be formed to lean upon 
 something stronger than itself for support. We are so 
 surrounded with difficulties and temptations, and dangers 
 here, that we need a refuge in which we can trust. Chil- 
 dren find such a protector and such a refuge in their pa- 
 rents. How much safer yon feel in sickness if your father 
 or your mother is by your bedside. How often, in a 
 summer evening, when a dark heavy cloud is thundering 
 in the sky, and the window glitters with the brightness
 
 32 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 2. 
 
 Power and sympathy. A sure protector. 
 
 of the lightning, do the children of a family sigh for their 
 father's return, and feel relieved and almost safe when he 
 comes among them. But when man is mature he can find 
 no earthly protector. He must go alone unless he has a 
 friend above. 
 
 A protector and friend ought to possess two distinct 
 qualifications, which it is very difficult to find united. He 
 ought to be our superior both in knowledge and power, 
 so that we can confide in his protection, and yet he ought 
 to be in the same circumstances with ourselves, that he 
 may understand and appreciate our trials and difficulties. 
 
 Naw my object in this chapter is to endeavor to show 
 my readers that they need, and that they can have just 
 such a protector and friend one that has power to save 
 to the uttermost, and yet one that knows by his own ex- 
 perience all your trials and cares. I know that if any of 
 you go and confess your sins to God, and begin a life of 
 piety now, you will, without aid from above, wan- 
 der away into sin, forget your resolutions, displease God 
 more than ever, and more than ever destroy your own 
 peace of mind. I wish, therefore, to persuade all those 
 who desire henceforth to do their duty, to come now and 
 unite themselves in indissoluble bonds with the moral pro- 
 tector and friend, whose character I am about to describe. 
 
 In the Epistle to the Hebrews, 2nd chapter and 16th 
 verse, there occurs the following remarkable passage : 
 " For verily he," i. e. Christ, " took not on him the na- 
 ture of angels, but he took on him the seed of Abraham. 
 Wherefore in all things it behoved him to be made like 
 unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful and faith- 
 ful high priest in things pertaining to God." Here you 
 see how the two qualifications named above were united 
 in our Savior. He might have come from heaven and died 
 upon the cross to make atonement for our sins, without 
 suffering, as he did, so long a pilgrimage below, as a 
 " man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." But he
 
 Ch. 2.] THE FRIEND. 33 
 
 Story of the sailor boy. The captain's want of sympathy. 
 
 came and lived here thirty years, tasted of every bitter 
 cup which we have to drink, in order that he might know 
 by experience all our trials and troubles, and be able 
 more effectually to sympathize with us and help us. He 
 took not on him the nature of angels, but he took on him 
 the seed of Abraham, i. e. the nature of man. 
 
 I wish my readers would pause and reflect a moment 
 upon these two elements in the character of a valuable 
 protector, viz. power and sympathy, arid consider how 
 seldom they are united. I will give one or two exam- 
 ples which may help to illustrate the subject. 
 
 A mother with a large family, and but slender means 
 to provide for their wants, concluded to send her eldest 
 son to sea. She knew that though the toils and labors of 
 a sea-faring life were extreme, they could be borne, and 
 they brought with them many pleasures and many useful 
 results. She agreed, therefore, with a Sea Captain, a 
 distant relative of hers, to admit her boy on board his 
 ship. The Captain became really interested in his new 
 friend said he would take good care of him, teach hina 
 his duty on ship board, and help him on in the world, if 
 he was diligent and faithful. 
 
 The boy looked with some dread upon the prospect of 
 bidding farewell to his mother, to his brothers and sisters, 
 and his quiet home, to explore unknown and untried 
 scenes, and to encounter the dangers of a stormy ocean. 
 He, however, bade all farewell, and was soon tossing 
 upon the waters, feeling safe under his new protector. 
 He soon found, however, that the Captain had power, 
 but that he had not sympathy. He would sometimes, in 
 a stormy night, when the masts were reeling to and fro, 
 and the bleak wind was whistling through the frozen 
 rigging, make him go aloft, though the poor boy, unac- 
 customed to the giddy height, was in an agony of tenor, 
 and in real danger of falling headlong to the deck. The 
 Captairt had forgotten what were his own feelings when 
 
 2*
 
 34 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Oh. 2. 
 
 Sailor boy continued. The little ship. 
 
 he was himself a boy, or he would probably have taught 
 this necessary part of seamanship in a more gentle and 
 gradual manner. He thought the boy ought to learn, and 
 his want of sympathy with his feelings led him to a course 
 which was severe, and in fact cruel, though not intention- 
 ally so. 
 
 The captain never spoke to his young charge, except- 
 ing to command him. He took no interest in his little 
 concerns. Once the boy spent all his leisure time indus- 
 triously in rigging out a little ship complete. " This," 
 thought he, " will please the captain. He wants me to 
 learn, and this will show him that I have been learning." 
 As he went on, however, from day to day, the captain 
 took no notice of his work. A word or a look of satis- 
 faction from his protector would have gratified him ex- 
 ceedingly. But no ; the stern, weather-beaten officer 
 could not sympathize with a child or appreciate his feel- 
 ings at all, and one day when the boy had been sent away 
 from his work for a moment, the captain came upon 
 deck, and after looking around a moment, he said to a 
 rough-looking man standing there, " I say, Jack, I wish 
 you would clear away a little here coil those lines and 
 that boy's bauble there, you may as well throw it over- 
 board, he never will make anything of it." 
 
 Commands on board ship must Ve obeyed ; and the 
 poor cabin boy came up from below j 1st in time to catch 
 the captain's words, and to see his littlt ship fly from the 
 sailor's hands into the waves. It fell u^on its side its 
 sails were drenched with the water, and U fast receded 
 from view. The boy went to his hammsjk and wept 
 bitterly. His heart was wounded deeply, but the stern 
 captain did not know it. How could he sympathize 
 with the feelings of a child ? 
 
 And yet this captain was the real friend of the boy. He 
 protected him in all great dangers, took great care of him 
 when in foreign ports, that he should not be exposed to
 
 Ch. 2.] THE FRIEND. 35 
 
 The captain a real friend. The Savior. 
 
 sickness nor to temptation. When they returned home 
 he recommended him to another ship, and where, through 
 the captain's influence, he had a better situation and 
 higher wages, and he had assisted him in various ways 
 for many years. Now this boy had a protector who had 
 power, but not sympathy. 
 
 This boy however might have had a friend who would 
 have sympathized with him fully, but who would have 
 had no power. I might illustrate this case also, by suppos , 
 ing in the next ship which he should enter, that the cap- 
 tain should feel no interest in him at all, but that he should 
 have with him there a brother, or another boy of his 
 own age, who would be his constant companion and 
 friend, entering into all his feelings, sympathizing with 
 him in his enjoyments and in his troubles, but yet hav- 
 ing no power to protect him from real evils, or to avert 
 any dangers which might threaten. I might suppose 
 such a case, and following the boy in imagination into 
 the new scene, I might show that sympathy alone is not 
 sufficient. But it is not necessary to do this. All my 
 readers, doubtless, already fully understand the distinc- 
 tion between these two, and the necessity that they should 
 be united in such a protector as we all need. 
 
 The great Friend of sinners unites these. He is able 
 to save to the uttermost all that come unto God through 
 him, and he can fully sympathize with us in all our trials 
 and cares ; for he has been upon the earth, suffering all 
 that we have t ) suffer, and drinking of every cup which 
 is presented to our lips. He became flesh, i. e. he became 
 a man, and dwelt among us ; so that, as the Bible most 
 forcibly and beautifully expresses it, 'we have not an 
 high priest which cannot be touched with a feeling of our 
 infirmities, but was in all points tempted like as we are, 
 yet without sin.' 
 
 It must be borne in mind that our Savior did not com- 
 mence his public ministrations till he was thirty years of
 
 36 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 2. 
 
 His thirty years of life. Howard. 
 
 age. Thirty years he spent in what ? Why, in learn- 
 ing, by slow and painful experience, what it is to be a hu- 
 man being in this world of trial. Have I a reader who 
 is only ten or twelve years of age ? Remember, the Sa- 
 vior was once as young as you, exposed to such little 
 difficulties and trials as you are. He has gone through 
 the whole, from infancy upward, and he does not forget. 
 You may be sure, then, that he is ready to sympathize 
 tvith you. Il'any thing is great enough to interest you, 
 you may be sure it is great enough to interest him in 
 your behalf. He remembers his own chihU. ood, and will 
 sympathize with the feelings of yours. 
 
 This plan of coming into our world and becoming one 
 of us, and remaining in obscurity so long, that he might 
 learn by experiment what the human condition is, in all 
 its details, was certainly a very extraordinary,onc. It is 
 spoken of as very extraordinary every where in the 
 Bible. 
 
 You have all heard of Howard, the philanthropist. 
 When he was thirty or forty years of age, there were, 
 every where in Europe, jails and dungeons filled with 
 wretched prisoners, some of whom were guilty and some 
 innocent. They were crowded together in small, cold, 
 damp rooms. Their food was scanty and bad, dreadful 
 diseases broke out among them ; and when this was the case 
 they were, in a vast multitude of cases, left to sulTer and to 
 die in unmitigated agony. Very few knew their condition, 
 and there were none to pity or relieve them, until How- 
 ard undertook the task. He left his home in England 
 and went forth, encountering every difficulty and every 
 discouragement, until he had explored thoroughly this 
 mass of misery and brought it to public view, and had 
 done every thing he could to mitigate its severity 
 
 This was extraordinary enough, and it attracted uni- 
 versal attention. All Europe was surprised that a man 
 should devote years of life to a most arduous and hazard-
 
 Ch. 2.] THE FRIEND. 37 
 
 Story of Howard. Imaginary scene. 
 
 ous labor, thus exposing himself to the most loathsome 
 influences and to the worst diseases, without any prospect 
 of remuneration, and all for the sole purpose of relieving 
 the sufferings of criminals, of men whom the world had 
 cast off as unfit for human society. It was, I acknow- 
 ledge, extraordinary ; but what would have been the 
 sensation produced, if Howard could not have gained ad- 
 mission to these scenes, so as effectually to accomplish 
 his object without becoming himself a prisoner, and thus 
 sharing for a time the fate of those whom he was en- 
 deavoring to save ? Suppose he should consent to this. 
 Imagine him approaching for this purpose some dreary 
 prison. He passes its dismal threshold, and the bolts 
 and bars of the gloomiest dungeon are turned upon him. 
 He lays aside the comfortable dress of the citizen for the 
 many-colored garb of confinement and disgrace. He 
 holds out his arm for the manacles, and lies down at night 
 upon his bed of straw, and lingers away months, or per- 
 haps years of wretchedness, for no other purpose than 
 that he may know fully what wretchedness is. He thus 
 looks misery in the face, and takes it by the hand, and 
 he emerges at last from his cell, emaciated by disease, 
 worn out by the gloom of perpetual night, and his heart 
 sickened by the atmosphere of sin and shame. Suppose 
 he had done this, how strongly could he, after it, sympa- 
 thize with the sufferings of a prisoner, and how cordially 
 and with what confidence can the inmates of those abodes 
 come to him with their story of wo. 
 
 Now, we have such a Savior as this is. He has been 
 among us. He has himself experienced every kind of 
 trial and suffering which we have to endure. So that if 
 we choose him for our friend, we may come to him on 
 every occasion, sure of finding not only sympathy to feel 
 for us, but power to relieve us. No matter what may be 
 the source of our trial, whether great or small : if it is 
 great enough to interest us, it is great enough to interest
 
 38 YOUKG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 2. 
 
 The Savior. Human sympathy. 
 
 him for us. Perhaps some young child who reads this 
 has been pained to the heart by the unkindness of some 
 one in whom he had reposed all his confidence. The ac- 
 tion which showed this neglect or unkindness was so 
 trifling, that perhaps the little sufferer feels that no one 
 can sympathize with him in apparently so small a cause 
 of sorrow. But Jesus Christ was once as young a child 
 as you ; he too, doubtless, had companions and friends, 
 and if he did not experience unkindness and ingratitude 
 at their hands, childhood was the only time of his life in 
 which he was free from these injuries. He, doubtless, 
 knows them full well ; and there is one thing in which 
 the sympathy of our Savior differs from that of every 
 other friend he judges not from the magnitude of the 
 cause of sorrow, but from the real effect of that cause 
 upon the heart which suffers it. If a child is agitated by 
 a trifling cause, he looks at the greatness of the agita- 
 tion and suffering, not at the insignificance of the cause. 
 But it is not so with men : they judge from external 
 circumstances. 
 
 In all the greater trials of life, I mean those which come 
 from greater and more permanent causes, we may confi- 
 dently expect sympathy and fellow feeling if we come to 
 the Savior. Does poverty threaten you? He knows 
 what poverty is better than you, for years, he knew not 
 where to lay his head. Do you suffer from the unkind 
 treatment of others ? He has tried t!iis in the extreme, 
 and can fully sympathize with you. Do you weep over 
 the grave of a beloved friend ? Jesus wept from this 
 cause long before you. In fact, he went about the world, 
 not only to do good, but to taste of suffering, that he 
 might know, with all the vividness of experience, exactly 
 what suffering, in all its variety, is. 
 
 We all love sympathy when we are suffering, but 
 there is one occasion on which we feel the need of it still 
 more I mean in temptation. We need sympathy when
 
 Ch. 2.] THE FRIEND. 39 
 
 The murderer's cell. Sympathy for the guilty. 
 
 we are struggling with temptation, and still more when 
 we have done wrong, and are reaping its bitter fruits. A 
 dreadful murder was once committed, which aroused the 
 alarm and indignation of an extensive community every 
 one expressed the strongest abhorrence of the deed, and 
 made the greatest effort to procure the arrest and punish- 
 ment of the criminal. And this was right. But with 
 this feeling there should have been, in every heart, strong 
 compassion for the miserable criminal. 
 
 He was arrested, tried, and condemned to die ; and a 
 few hours before the execution of the sentence, I went 
 with a clergyman who often visited him, to see him in 
 his cell. 
 
 When we had entered his gloomy prison, the jailor 
 closed behind us its massive iron door, and barred and 
 locked it. We found ourselves in a spacious passage, 
 with a stone floor, and stone walls, and stone roof, and 
 with narrow iron doors on each side, leading to the cells 
 of the various prisoners. We ascended the stairs, and 
 found every story assuming the same rigid features 01 
 iron and stone. In a corner of the upper story was the 
 cell of the murderer. 
 
 A little grated window opened into the passage-way. 
 The jailor tapped softly at the window, and informed the 
 prisoner, in a kind and gentle tone, that the clergyman 
 had come. 
 
 " Should you like to have us come in ?" asked the 
 jailor. 
 
 The prisoner instantly assented, and the jailor unbolted 
 and unbarred the door. " Strange !" thought I. " Here 
 is a man who has outraged the laws of both God and man, 
 and a whole community has arisen in justice, and declared 
 that he is unworthy to live, and to-morrow, by the hand 
 of violence, he is to die. And yet his very keeper treats 
 him so tenderly that he will not come into his cell with- 
 out first obtaining permission !"
 
 40 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 2. 
 
 The keeper's kindness to the prisoner. The Savior. 
 
 As we passed through the narrow aperture in the thick 
 stone wall which the iron door had closed, the whole as- 
 pect of the room and of the prisoner was one which ef- 
 fectually removed my surprise that he should be treated 
 with kindness and compassion. He was pale and hag- 
 gard, and he trembled very exceedingly. He seemed 
 exhausted by the agony of remorse and terror. A few 
 hours before his wife had been in the cell to bid him a 
 final farewell, and the next day he was to be led forth to 
 execution in the presence of thousands. In the mean- 
 time the walls, and floor, and roof of his cell of conti- 
 nued, uninterrupted stone and iron seemed to say to him, 
 wherever he looked, " You shall not escape." It seemed 
 as if the eye would have rested with a feeling of relief 
 upon a board or a curtain, even if it concealed a stone 
 behind, with so forbidding and relentless a gripe did 
 this dismal cell seem to hold its unhappy tenant. As I 
 looked between the heavy iron bars of his grated window 
 upon the distant plains and hills, and thought how ar- 
 dently he must wish that he were once more innocent 
 and free, I forgot the cold-blooded brutality of the crime, 
 and only mourned over the misery and ruin of the man. 
 
 The world does in such cases sympathize with one 
 suffering from remorse; but, generally, men are indignant 
 with the offender if his crime is great, and they treat 
 him with ridicule and scorn if it is small. Jesus Christ, 
 however, pities a sinner. He loved us while we were 
 yet in our sins; he came to save us. He came, not to 
 inflict the punishment which our guilt deserved, but 
 to redeem us from the sufferings into which it had 
 broug.it us. 
 
 This is every where very apparent in his whole history. 
 Often the greatest sinners came to him, and he never re- 
 proached them when they came with a humble and peni- 
 tent heart. He always endeavored to relieve them of 
 their burden of guilt, and to give them assurance of par-
 
 Ch. 2.] THE FRIEND. 41 
 
 The Savior's sympathy. Common distrust of it. 
 
 don and peace. On one occasion, how kindly does he 
 say to a very guilty sinner, " I do not condemn thee, go 
 and sin no more." Instead of intending to add to the 
 burden of guilt by exhibiting coldly the contrast of his 
 own bright example, or by his severe rebukes, he says, 
 " Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden 
 and I will give you rest." 
 
 Persons who wish to be saved from sin, very often dis- 
 trust the Savior's willingness to receive them. They 
 acknowledge, in general terms, his kindness and compas- 
 sion, and think that he is, in all ordinary cases, willing 
 to save the chief of sinners ; but they think there is some- 
 thing peculiar in their case, which should prevent them 
 from coming to him in confidence. I observed that this 
 peculiarity is almost always one of two things : 1. That 
 they do not engage ardently enough in the work of sal- 
 vation ; or, 2. That they have often resolved before, and 
 broken their resolutions. 
 
 Do not some of you, my readers, feel unwilling to come 
 to the Savior, because you think that you do not feel a 
 sufficient interest in the subject ? You know that you are 
 sinners, and would like to be free from sin. You would 
 like such a friend as I describe the Savior to be, but you 
 have no sufficiently strong conviction, and you think the 
 promises are not for you. 
 
 Or perhaps some of you, though you feel a deep interest 
 in the subject, may be discouraged and disheartened by 
 the sins you find yourselves constantly committing, and 
 by your repeatedly broken resolutions. You think the 
 Savior must be wearied out by your continual backslid- 
 ings and sins, and you are ready to give up the contest, 
 and to think that final holiness and peace is not for you. 
 
 Now there are throughout our land vast multitudes 
 who are vainly endeavoring to make their hearts better, 
 in order to recommend themselves to their Savior's care. 
 You must indeed endeavor by every effort to make
 
 42 VOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 2 
 
 Illustration. Case of the sick man. 
 
 your heart better, but not as a means of recommending 
 yourself to the Savior. Come to him at once, just as you 
 are, and seek his sympathy and assistance in the work. 
 
 Inquirers after the path of piety are very slow to learn 
 that the Savior is the friend of sinners. They will not 
 learn that he came to help us while we are in our trials 
 and difficulties, not after we get out of them. How many say 
 in their hearts, I must overcome this sin, or free myself 
 from that temptation, and then I will come to the Savior. I 
 must have clearer views of my own sins, or deeper peni- 
 tence, or awaken true love to God in my heart, and then, 
 but not till then, can I expect Christ to be my friend. 
 What! do you suppose that it is the office of Jesus Christ 
 to stand aloof from the struggling sinner until he has, 
 by his own unaided- strength, and, without assistance or 
 sympathy, finished the contest, and then only to come 
 and offer his congratulations after the victory is won ? Ig 
 this such a Savior as you imagine the Bible to describe ? 
 At the door of one of the chambers of the house in 
 \vhich you reside, you hear a moaning sound, as of one 
 in distress. You enter hastily, and find a sick man 
 writhing in pain, and struggling alone with his sufferings. 
 As soon as you understand the case, you say to him, 
 
 " We must send for a physician immediately ; there is 
 one at the next door who will come in in a moment. 
 
 " O no." groans out the sufferer, " I am in no state 
 to send for a physician. My head aches dreadfully I 
 am almost distracted with pain. I fear I am very dange- 
 rously ill." 
 
 " Then we must have a physician immediately," you 
 reply. " Run and call him," you say, turning to an attend- 
 ant, " ask him to come as soon as possible." 
 
 " O stop ! stop !" says the sick man, " wait till I get 
 a little easier; my breath is very short and my pulse 
 very feeble, and besides I have been getting worse and 
 worse every half hour for some time, and I am afraid
 
 Ch. 2.] THE FRIEND. 43 
 
 Jesus Christ a physician. Struggling with temptation. 
 
 there is no hope for me. Wait a little while, and per- 
 haps I may feel better, and then I will send for him." 
 
 You would turn after hearing such words, and say in a 
 gentle voice to the attendant, " He is wandering in mind. 
 Call the physician immediately." 
 
 Now Jesus Christ is a physician. He comes to heal 
 your sins. If you wish to be healed, come to him at 
 once, just as you are. The soul that waits for purer mo- 
 tives, or for a deeper sense of guilt, or for a stronger in- 
 terest in the subject, before it comes to Christ, is a sick 
 person waiting for health before he sends for a physician. 
 Jesus Christ came to help you in obtaining these feelings, 
 not to receive you after you have made yourself holy 
 without him. You have, I well know, great and arduous 
 struggles to make with sin. Just as certainly as you at- 
 tempt them alone, you will become discouraged and fail. 
 Come to the Savior before you begin them, for I do as- 
 sure you you will need help. 
 
 One great object which our Savior had in view in re- 
 maining so long in the world, was to understand our 
 temptations, and the contests which they bring up in the 
 heart. 
 
 It is very often the case, that persons are struggling 
 with temptations and sins almost in solitude, and those 
 to whom they are directly accountable do not appreciate 
 the circumstances in which they are placed, and the ef- 
 forts they make to overcome temptation. I presume that 
 teachers very often blame their pupils with a severity 
 which they would not use if they remembered distinctly 
 the feelings of childhood. Perhaps a little boy is placed 
 on a seat by his intimate friend, and commanded upon 
 pain of some very severe punishment not to whisper. He 
 tries to refrain, and succeeds perhaps for half an hour in 
 avoiding every temptation. At last some unexpected oc- 
 currence or some sudden thought darts into his mind, 
 his resolutions are forgotten, the presence of the mas-
 
 44 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 2. 
 
 The benevolent teacher. The teacher imagined a scholar. 
 
 ter, the regulations of the school, and the special prohi- 
 bition to him, all flit from his mind, and after the forbid- 
 den act, which occupied but an instant, is done, he im- 
 mediately awakes to the consciousness of having dis- 
 obeyed, and looks up just in lime to see the stern eye of 
 his teacher upon him speaking most distinctly of dis- 
 pleasure and of punishment. Now if any severe punish- 
 ment should follow such a transgression, how dispropor- 
 tionate would it be to the guilt ! The boy may indeed 
 have done wrong, but how slight must the v/rong be in 
 the view of any one who could look into the heart, and 
 estimate truly its moral movements in such a case ! It Is 
 unquestionably true, and every wise teacher is fully aware 
 of it, that in school discipline there is constant danger 
 that the teacher will estimate erroneously the moral cha- 
 racter of the actions he witnesses, just because he has 
 forgotten the feelings of childhood. He cannot appre- 
 ciate its temptations or understand its difficulties, and 
 many a little struggler with the inclinations which would 
 draw him from duty, is chilled and discouraged in his 
 efforts, because the teacher never knows that he is ma- 
 king an effoit to do his duty, or at least never under- 
 stands the difficulties and trials which he finds in his way. 
 Suppose now that such a teacher should say to himself, 
 and suppose he could by some magic power carry the 
 plan into effect, 'I will become a little child myself, 
 and go to school. I will take these same lessons which 
 I assign, and endeavor to keep, myself, the rules which 
 I have been endeavoring to enforce. I will spend two 
 or three weeks in this way, that I may learn by actual 
 experience what the difficulties and temptations and trials 
 of childhood are. Suppose he could carry this plan into 
 effect, and laying aside his accumulated knowledge and 
 that strength of moral principle which long habit had 
 formed, should assume the youth and the spirits and all 
 the feelings of childhood, and should take his place in
 
 Ch. 2.] THE FRIEND. 45 
 
 Sympathy of Christ. Howard. 
 
 some neighboring school, unknown to his new compa- 
 nions, to partake with them in all their trials and tempta- 
 tions. He toils upon a perplexing lesson, that he may 
 know by experience what the perplexity of childhood is ; 
 he obeys the strictest rules, that he may understand the 
 difficulty of obedience ; and he exposes himself to the un- 
 kindness or oppression of the vicious boys, that he may 
 learn how hard it is patiently to endure them. After fully 
 making the experiment, he resumes his former character 
 and returns to his station of authority. Now if this were 
 done, how cordially, how much better can he afterward 
 sympathize with his pupils in their trials, and with what 
 confidence can they come to him in all their cares. 
 
 Now we have such a Savior as this. The Word was 
 made flesh, i. e. became man and dwelt among us. He 
 took not on him the nature of angels, but the nature of 
 man. " Wherefore it behoved him in all things to be made 
 like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful and 
 faithful high priest." "We have not an high priest that 
 cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but 
 was in all points tempted like as we are." 
 
 My reader will doubtless observe that this case is sojne- 
 what similar to that of Howard, which I imagined in the 
 former part of this chapter ; and perhaps you may imagine 
 that if my paragraphs had been well arranged, this sup- 
 position would have come in connection with that. But 
 no. I was then upon the subject of sympathy with suf 
 feting. I imagined Howard to become a prisoner, that 
 he might understand and sympathize with the sufferings 
 of prisoners. Now I am speaking of the subject of temp- 
 tation and struggle against sin, and I imagine the teacher 
 to become a child, that he may appreciate the trials and 
 temptations of childhood. 
 
 We may trust in the sympathy of our Savior in this 
 last respect as well as in the other. His disposition to 
 feel compassion and sympathy, and not indignation, in
 
 46 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 2 
 
 The benevolent gentleman. Sympathy of Christ. 
 
 regard to those who had brought themselves into diffi- 
 culty by doing wrong was very often manifested while 
 he was upon the earth, and we maybe sure his character 
 is not in this respect altered now. 
 
 But it is time that I should bring this chapter to a 
 close. The sum and substance of what I have been en- 
 deavoring to illustrate in it is this : If you confess all 
 your sins and seek their forgiveness in the way in which 
 the Gospel points out, and resolve henceforth to lead a 
 life of piety, you will need a friend and helper. You will 
 want sympathy, both in your sufferings and in your 
 struggles with sin. Jesus Christ will sympathize with 
 you and help you in both. 
 
 I once knew a reverend gentleman whose fortune ren- 
 dered him independent, but whose medical knowledge and 
 skill were of a very high order, and he practised con- 
 stantly without fee or reward, for the simple purpose of 
 relieving suffering. The only things necessary to secure 
 his attention were to be sick, to need his aid, and to send 
 for him. He did not wish his patients to become conva- 
 lescent before he would visit them ; nor did he inquire 
 how often they had been sick before. There was one poor 
 lad who took cold, I believe, by breaking through the ice 
 in the winter, and he was rendered a helpless cripple for 
 years, and yet this gentleman or some of his family visited 
 him almost daily during all this time, and instead of get- 
 ting tired of their patient, he became more and more in- 
 terested in him to the last. Now our Redeemer is such 
 a physician He does not ask any preparation before we 
 send for him ; nor does he get tired of us because he has 
 helped us back from our wanderings to duty and happi- 
 ness a great many times. Some one asked him once, 
 how often he ought to forgive his brother after repeated 
 transgressions. " Shall I forgive him seven times?" was 
 the question. " Forgive," said the Savior, " not only 
 seven times, but seventy times seven." How strange it
 
 Ch. 3.] PRAYER. 47 
 
 The bruised reed. Prayer. 
 
 is, that after this a backsliding Christian can ever hesitate 
 to come back at once after he has wandered, with an 
 assurance that God will forgive. 
 
 He will not break the bruised reed. How beautiful and 
 striking an illustration of our Redeemer's kindness to 
 those who have sinned. A planter walks out into his 
 grounds, and among the reeds growing there, there is 
 one young, green and slender which a rude blast has 
 broken. Its verdant top is drenched in the waters which 
 bathe its root ; and perhaps he hesitates for a moment 
 whether to tear it from the spot and throw it away. But 
 no ; he raises it to its place, carefully adjusts its bruised 
 stem, and sustains it by a support, till it once more ac- 
 quire its former strength and beauty. Now Jesus Christ 
 is this planter. Every backsliding humbled Christian is a 
 bruised reed ; and O how many are now thriving and 
 vigorous, that in the hour of humiliation have been saved 
 by his tenderness. 
 
 Come then to this friend, all of you. Bring all your 
 interests and hopes and fears to him ; he will sympa- 
 thize in them all. And whenever you have wandered 
 never hesitate a moment to return. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PRAYER 
 " Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, I will do it." 
 
 As I have on this subject many separate points to dis- 
 cuss, I shall arrange what I have to say under several 
 distinct heads, that the view presented may be the better 
 understood and remembered. 
 
 I. The power of prayer. This subject may be best 
 illustrated by describing a case.
 
 48 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 3. 
 
 The absent son. The father's promises. Its implied limitations. 
 
 A kind and affectionate father, whose son had arrived at 
 an age "which rendered it necessary for him to prepare 
 for the business of life, concluded to send him from home 
 Their mutual attachment was strong, and though each 
 knew it was for the best, each looked upon the approach- 
 ing separation with regret. The father felt solicitous for 
 the future character and happiness of his boy, as he was 
 now to go forth into new temptations and dangers ; and 
 the son was reluctant to leave the quiet and the happiness 
 of his father's fireside for the bustle of business and the 
 rough exposures of the crowded city, where he was for 
 the future to find a home. The hour of separation, how- 
 ever, at last arrived, and the father says to him at parting, 
 
 "My son, be faithful, do your duty, and you will be 
 happy. Remember your parents the efforts they have 
 made, and the affection they now feel for you. Watch 
 against temptation, and shun it. I will supply all your 
 wants. When you wish for any thing, write to me and 
 you shall have it. And may God bless you, and keep you 
 safe and happy." 
 
 My reader will observe that this language, which is 
 not fiction, but fact, for it has in substance been addressed 
 in a thousand instances under the circumstances above 
 described, contains a promise to send the son whatever Tie 
 shall ask for. But the meaning of it is not and no boy 
 would understand it to be that every possible request 
 which he might make would be certainly granted. Al- 
 though the promise is made in the few simple words, 
 " whenever you want any thing, write to me and you. 
 shall have it," yet the meaning expressed fully would be, 
 " whenever you wish for any thing, which as far an you 
 can see is proper for you, if you will let me know it I 
 will send it, unless I see that it is better for you not to 
 have it, or unless there are other special reasons which 
 prevent my complying." 
 
 Now a boy may in such a case make a great ntimy re-
 
 Ch. 3] PRAYER. 49 
 
 Improper requests. Requests in an improper manner. Letter. 
 
 quests which the father might refuse without being con- 
 sidered by any one as breaking his promise. 
 
 1. He may ask something which the father knows 
 would, in the end, injure him. Suppose he should request 
 nis father to supply him with double his usual quantity 
 of pocket money, and the father should see clearly that 
 th effect of granting the request would be to cultivate in 
 him careless and extravagant habits of expenditure, and 
 to divert his attention from his business. In such a case 
 he father would undoubtedly refuse, and no one would 
 imagine that he was breaking his promise. The boy, if 
 he had done right, would not have asked. 
 
 2. He may ask something which, if granted, would in 
 terfere with the rights or happiness of others. There was 
 a watch, we will imagine, hanging up in his father's house, 
 used by all the family, the only time-piece accessible to 
 them. Now supposing the boy, growing selfish and vain, 
 and thinking that his importance among his comrades 
 would be a little increased by a watch, should write to his 
 father to send that to him. Who would think that his 
 father would be obliged to comply on account of his part- 
 ing promise to his son to supply all his wants 1 Chris- 
 tians very often make such selfish requests, and wonder 
 why their prayers are not heard. A farmer who has one 
 field which needs watering, will pray for rain with great 
 earnestness, forgetting that God has to take care of the 
 ten thousand fields all around his own, and that they per- 
 haps need the sun. A mother who has a boy at sea will 
 pray for prosperous winds for him, forgetting that the 
 ocean is whitened with sails all under God's care, and 
 that the breeze which bears one onward, must retard ano- 
 ther. But more on this subject presently. 
 
 3. He may ask in an improper manner. Suppose the 
 father should take from the post office a letter in his son's 
 hand-writing, and on breaking the seal, should read as 
 follows : 
 
 3
 
 30 YOUNG CHRISTIAH. [Ch. 3. 
 
 The letter. Our Savior's promise. 
 
 FATHER, 
 
 " You must let me come home next week to Christmas-. 
 I wanted to come last year, but you would not let me, and 
 now I must come. I want you to write me immediately, 
 and send it back by the driver, telling me I may come. 
 
 " I am your dutiful son, 
 
 tt 
 
 Who would think that a father ought to grant a re- 
 quest made in such a way as this ? It is to be feared that 
 Christians sometimes bring demands, instead of requests, 
 to God. 
 
 I have mentioned now three cases in which the father 
 might, without breaking his promise, refuse the requests 
 of his boy; where it would be injurious to him, unjust 
 to others, or where the request is made in an improper 
 manner. All promises of such a sort as this are univer- 
 sally considered as liable to these exceptions. 
 
 Our Savior tells us, " Whatsoever ye shall ask the Fa- 
 ther, in my name, he will do it." This is common lan- 
 guage, such as men address to men, and is to be un- 
 derstood exactly in the same way in just such a sense, 
 and with just such exceptions. The language means, if 
 it is honestly used, that one of our requests will, in ordi- 
 nary cases, have a real influence with the Creator in re- 
 gard to things entirely beyond our control. It must mean, 
 that, generally, all our proper requests will be granted. 
 At the same time it must be liable to the exceptions above 
 stated, which apply in all similar cases. God must re- 
 serve the right to deny our requests when they are made 
 in an improper spirit, and when they ask what would in- 
 jure us, or interfere with the general good. 
 
 If any of you have, in accordance with the views pre- 
 sented in the two preceding chapters, confessed your past 
 sins and chosen Jesus Christ for your friend, you will take 
 great pleasure in bringing your requests to God. And you
 
 Ch. 3.] PRAYER. 61 
 
 Prayers denied. Power of prayer. 
 
 may, in doing this, sometimes pray for success in some 
 enterprize, when God sees that it is on the whole best 
 that you should fail. A man may ask that God will place 
 him in some important station of influence or usefulness, 
 when the eye that can see the whole discovers that the 
 general good will be promoted by another arrangement. 
 Thus in many similar ways your prayers may sometimes 
 come within the excepted cases, and then God will not 
 grant them. These cases, however, it may be hoped, 
 you will generally avoid, and thus in a vast majority of 
 instances your prayers will be heard. 
 
 There is even among Christians a great deal of distrust 
 of the power of prayer. Some think that prayer exerts 
 a good influence upon their own hearts, and thus they 
 continue the practice, without, however, having any very 
 cordial belief that they are really listened to and granted 
 as requests, by the great Jehovah. Many persons ima- 
 gine that prayer has an efficacy in some such way as this. 
 A man asks God to protect and bless him in his business. 
 By offering the prayer every day, he is reminded of his 
 dependance, he thinks of the necessity of his own industry 
 and patient effort, and thus, through the influence of his 
 prayer, the causes of prosperity are brought to operate 
 more fully in his case, and prosperity comes. 
 
 This is indeed often one of the happy results of believ- 
 ing prayer ; but it by no means embraces the whole im- 
 port of the promise, " Whatsoever ye shall ask the Fa- 
 ther, he shall do it." The Father shall do it. This is a 
 promise that God shall do something which we ask him 
 to do, not simply that the natural effect of our asking 
 will be favorable in its influence upon us. 
 
 There is another way in which it seems to me there is 
 a great deal of want of faith in God in regard to the effi- 
 cacy of prayer. It is often said that requests may not be 
 granted in the precise form in which they were offered, 
 but that they are always answered in someway or other
 
 62 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Oh. 3 
 
 The boy asking for a knife. The sick man unexpectedly cured. 
 
 A mother, for instance, who has a son at sea, prays morn 
 ing and evening for his safe return. Letter after letter 
 conies, assuring her of his continued safety, until at last 
 ihe sad news arrives, that his ship has been dashed upon 
 a rock or sunk in the waves. Now can it be said that 
 ihe mother's prayer was granted ? Suppose that she was, 
 by this afflicting providence, weaned from the world and 
 prepared for heaven, and thus inconceivably benefited by 
 the event. Was this, in any common or correct use of 
 language, granting the request in another form, or was 
 it denying it because it was inconsistent with her great- 
 est good ? Suppose a child asks his father to let him keep 
 a knife he has found, and the father takes it away, know- 
 ing that he will probably injure himself with it. Is this 
 granting the request in another form ? No. We ought, 
 whenever the particular request we make is not granted, 
 to consider it a denial, and to suppose that it comes under 
 one of the cases of exceptions I have already specified. 
 
 There is, indeed, such a thing as granting a request in 
 another form from that in which it was made. A family, one 
 of whose members is in feeble health, prays for that mem- 
 ber, that God would restore him. They come sincerely 
 and earnestly to the throne of grace, and ask God to 
 spare his life and make him well. Instead however oi 
 growing better, he grows suddenly worse. He is attacked 
 with violent sickness, and his friends think that their 
 prayers cannot be heard, and suppose that they must fol- 
 low him to the grave. The sickness however soon passes 
 away, and instead of carrying him to the tomb, by means 
 of sx>me mysterious influence which is in such cases often 
 exerted upon the constitution, he rises from his sick bed 
 with renewed bodily powers, and as his strength gradually 
 returns, he finds that his constitution is renewed and 
 health entirely restored. Now this is granting the re- 
 quest, because the thing requested, that is the restora- 
 tion to healtn, is obtained, but the manner was unexpect-
 
 Cll. 3-3 PKAYER 53 
 
 Submissive spirit. Prayers of the young, 
 
 ed; but if the man should die, no matter what great be- 
 nefits to all resulted from his death, it is certainly not, 
 right to say that the request was granted in any way. It 
 was dented, because God saw it was best that it should be 
 denied. 
 
 Let us then keep constantly in view the fact, that our 
 petitions are and must be often denied, positively and 
 absolutely refused. The language which our Savior uses, 
 though without any specified exceptions, contains the ex- 
 ceptions t'aat in all human language are in all such cases 
 implied. The feelings however which, in this view of 
 the subject, we ought to cherish, may properly be pre- 
 sented under the following head. 
 
 II. A submissive spirit in prayer. We ought unques- 
 tionably to bring a great many requests to God, relating 
 to our daily pursuits. We ought to express to him our 
 common desires, ask success in our common enterprizes 
 and plans. Young persons, it seems to me, ought to do 
 this far more than they do. They ought to bring all their 
 little interests and concerns, morning and evening, to their 
 Friend above. Whatever interests you, as I have already 
 once or twice remarked, will interest him. Bring to him 
 freely your little troubles and cares, and express your 
 wants. If the young cannot come to God whh their own 
 appropriate and peculiar concerns, they are in reality 
 without a protector. If however we are in the habit of 
 bringing all our wants to God, we shall often ask for some- 
 ihing which it is far better for us not to have. We can- 
 not always judge correctly ; but unless we know that 
 what we want is dangeroua, or that it will be injurious, 
 it is proper to ask for it. If we do or might know, to re- 
 quest it would be obviously wrong. David prayed very 
 earnestly that his child might live, but God thought it not 
 best to grant the petition. David did right to pray, for 
 fie probably did not know but that the request might be 
 af?ly granted. Let us feel therefore when we come
 
 M YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 3 
 
 Deliverance from danger. The packet. 
 
 with our petitions, that perhaps God will think it best 
 for us that they should be denied. 
 
 This is peculiarly the case in praying for deliverance 
 from danger. Our hearts may be relieved and lightened 
 by committing ourselves to God's care, but we can never 
 feel on that account sure that we are safe. God very often 
 makes sickness, or a storm at sea, or the lightning, or any 
 other source of common danger and alarm, the means of 
 removing a Christian from the world. You do not know 
 but that he will remove you in this way. The next time a 
 thunder storm arises in the west, it may be God's design 
 to bring one of its terrific bolts upon your head, and you 
 cannot of course avert it by simply asking God to spare 
 you. He will listen to your prayer, take it into kind 
 consideration, and if you ask in a proper spirit, he will 
 probably give you a calm and happy heart, even in the 
 most imminent danger. But you cannot be sure you 
 will escape the lightning. The ground of your peace 
 must be, that God will do what is best, not that he will 
 certainly do -what you wish. 
 
 From one of the small sea-port towns of New England, 
 a packet once set sail for Boston. These packets, which 
 are intended to carry passengers, have one large cabin. 
 The berths (*-hich perhaps I ought to inform some of my 
 young readers, are a sort of shelves, upon which passen- 
 gers at sea sleep, one above the other) are arranged 
 around this cabin, and a moveable partition, which can 
 be thrown open by day, divides the room at night into 
 two parts. On board one of these packets then, a few 
 years ago, a number of persons, ladies and gentlemen, pre- 
 viously entire strangers to each other, found themselves 
 slowly sailing out of an eastern harbor, on a coasting voy 
 age of about two hundred miles. They did not know how 
 long they were to be together, what adventures might 
 befal them, or what dangers they might share. They 
 were however to spend their time in the same room, and
 
 Ch. 3.J PRAYER. 55 
 
 The calm. The Christian traveler. 
 
 as they were tossing upon the waves in the same vessel, 
 a sense of common interest and of common danger 
 brought them at once to terms of intimacy. 
 
 The next morning there was scarcely a breath of air. 
 The vessel heaved gently on the water, whose surface 
 was polished like glass, though it swelled and sunk with 
 the undulations of distant storms. In th tedium of wait- 
 ing for wind, each one of the passengers and crew amused 
 himself in his own way. Here yon might see a cluster 
 talking, there two or three passengers gathering around 
 a sailor who was letting down his line for fish. Others, 
 in various places, had their books. 
 
 A Christian traveler who was present, sat down upon 
 the quarter deck, and opened a little bundle of books and 
 newspapers and tracio, which he had provided for the 
 occasion. 
 
 Presently a gentleman who had been sitting for half an 
 hour gazing, for want of other employment, upon every 
 sprig of sea-weed or floating bubble he could see, ad- 
 vanced to him, and asked, 
 
 "Will you lend me something to read!" 
 
 " Certainly, sir, any thing I have ; but most of my stock 
 here is of a religious character, and I do not know whe- 
 ther you will take any interest in it." 
 
 The gentleman replied that he should. He selected a 
 newspaper or a tract, took his seat again, and began tw 
 read. Presently a lady made the same request ^ others 
 iooked as though they wished to, but hesitated. Our tra- 
 veler observing this, said to all within hearing, 
 
 " If others of the company would like any thing I have, 
 I should be happy to have them take it. I always carry 
 a supply of reading when I travel, though I select my 
 books, perhaps too much to suit my own taste alone. 
 What I have here is chiefly of a religious character, and 
 it may not be so generally interesting on that account- 
 You are heartily welcome to any of these however, if yoa
 
 56 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 3. 
 
 Books and tracts. The long passage. The approaching storm. 
 
 please. Sitting liere with nothing to do is rather dull." 
 The books and tracts were soon generally in circula- 
 tion, the passengers were nearly all busy in reading them, 
 and the time passed swiftly away. Our traveler became 
 known as a Christian ; and were I now upon the subject 
 of Christian influence, I might describe many interesting 
 occurrences which took place, the Christian acquaintances 
 which he formed, and the conversations which he had 
 with various persons on board the vessel. But I am going 
 so much into detail in this story, that I fear you have 
 almost lost sight of our subject, which is the duty of pray- 
 ing to God with the feeling that he will, after all, do as 
 he pleases about granting the request. I must hasten to 
 the conclusion of my story. 
 
 The passage was an uncommonly long one. They 
 hoped to reach their port in two days, but after ten had 
 passed away, they were still far from Boston, night was 
 coming on, and what was still worse, the captain, who 
 stood anxiously at the helm, said there were signs of a 
 terrific storm. A dark haze extended itself over the whole 
 southern sky. The swell of the sea increased. The rising 
 wind moaned in most melancholy tones through the 
 rigging. The captain gave orders to take in sail, to make 
 every thing snug about the vessel, and had supper pre- 
 pared earlier than usual, " because," said he, " 1 expect, 
 from the looks of the sky yonder, that an hour hence you 
 will not manage a cup of tea very handily." 
 
 The passengers ate their supper in silence. Their 
 hearts were full of foreboding fears. The captain en- 
 deavored to encourage them. He said that they were not 
 far from Boston. He hoped soon to see the light. If they 
 could make out to get into the harbor before it began to 
 Mow very hard, they should be safe. " Yes," said he, " I am 
 in hopes to land you all safely at theTbefore ten o'clock * 
 Unless we can. get fairly into the harbor however, I shall 
 
 * The T, a noted whart at Boston.
 
 Ch. 3.] fRAYEft. S7 
 
 They watch the light. The storm inert-uses. 
 
 have to put about and stand out to sea ; for if we arc to have 
 a storm, we must not stay tossing about near the rocks." 
 
 The storm increased. Sail after sail was reefed or taken 
 in, but still the spirits of the Company were sustained by- 
 knowing that they were advancing toward Boston, and 
 by the hope that they should soon stand upon the firm 
 shore. So great however was the pitching and rolling 
 of the ship, that most of the passengers retreated to their 
 berths and braced themselves there. A few of the more 
 hardy or experienced remained upon deck, clinging to the 
 masts or to the rigging, and watching with intense inte- 
 rest the distant glimmering of the Boston light, which 
 had a short time before corne into view. 
 
 " We are not very far from the light," said the captain, 
 " but it blows pretty hard." 
 
 41 Do you think we shall get in ?" asked a passenger. 
 
 44 1 do not know," said he, shaking his head, "it is a 
 bad night. I will however try for it." 
 
 The passengers watched the light. They observed that 
 the captain did not like to talk while he was at the helm, 
 and they forbore to ask him questions. They knew that 
 as long as they were going toward the light there was 
 hope, and they watched it therefore with a very eager eyt. 
 Sometimes the ship would veer a little from her course, 
 and as the light moved off to the right or to the left, they 
 were filled with solicitude lest the captain \vas going to 
 abandon the effort and put out again to sea. 
 
 He kept however steadily on another half hour, though 
 wind and wave seemed to do their utmost to compel hiir 
 to return. The light grew larger and brighter as they 
 approached it, but the wind increased so rapidly that th 
 captain seemed much perplexed to know what to do. He- 
 put the helm into the hands of a saHor, and went forward 
 and stood there looking upon the dark gloomy horizon 
 until he was completely drenched with the spray. In a 
 few minutes he returned suddenly. 
 
 3*
 
 59 YOUNG CIIKISTIAN. [Ch. 3 
 
 Going about. Splitting of the topsail. Danger. 
 
 " 'Tis of no use," said he, and then taking the helm 
 again, he called out in his loudest voice to the sailors 
 \vho were before, which however the roaring of the waves 
 almost drowned, 
 
 "READY, ABOUT." 
 
 The sailors answered, " READY." 
 
 A moment after the captain's voice was again hcan.1, 
 in the loud but monotonous tone of command, 
 
 " HELM'S A-LEE." 
 
 There was bustle at the bows of the ship. A great sail 
 flapped in the wind with a sound of thunder ; the ropes 
 rattled ; the boom swung with violence across the deck ; 
 nnd the bow, which had been pointed directly to the light- 
 house, their only star of hope, now swept swiftly around 
 the horizon, until it left it behind them. The vessel 
 plunged into the waves ; and to complete this scene of 
 terror, a loud sound, like a clap of rattling thunder, burst 
 close over their heads, arousing every passenger and pro- 
 ducing universal alarm. It was the splitting of the topsail. 
 
 The melancholy intelligence was soon spread below, 
 that the effort to reach Boston was abandoned, and that 
 they were now standing out to the open sea, and that con- 
 sequently they must be all night exposed unsheltered to 
 the violence of the storm. Although the commotion had 
 been already enough to fill the passengers with fear, yet 
 to an eye accustomed to the ocean, there had not been 
 any real danger. But real danger soon came. The wind 
 increased, and the vessel labored so much in struggling 
 against its fury, that even the captain thought it doubtful 
 whether they should ever see the land. 
 
 When I commenced this description I had no intention 
 of giving so full a narrative of the circumstances of a 
 storm at sea, and perhaps my reader has almost forgot- 
 ten what is my subject, and for what purpose I have in- 
 troduced this incident. My design was to illustrate the 
 "eelings with which prayer ought to be offered in danger.
 
 Wl 3.] PRAYER. 50 
 
 Protection never certain. Olijcct of prayer in danger. 
 
 and I wished therefore to give you a vivid idea of a situ- 
 ation of danger on the deep. Our passengers were now 
 in imminent danger. They were all in their berths below, 
 for so violent was the motion of the vessel that it was no* 
 safe to attempt to stand. The wish was intimated by 
 some, and the desire soon extended to all, that a prayer 
 should be offered, and they looked to our Christian tra- 
 veler to express their petitions at the throne of grace. 
 
 Now many persons may have such conceptions of the 
 nature of prayer as to suppose that if this company should 
 now sincerely unite in commending themselves to God's 
 protection, that he would take care-of them, and that they 
 might feel perfectly safe. Many cases have occurred in 
 which Christians, who have been in the midst of danger, 
 have fled to Jehovah for protection, and have had their 
 fears immediately quelled, and felt a cairn and happy as- 
 surance that God would bring them through in safety. 
 But such an assurance is not well grounded. Are real 
 Christians never lost at sea ? Do real Christians who on 
 their sick beds pray that God will restore them to health. 
 never die? is a Christian who, on commencing a journey 
 asks divine protection, never overturned in a coach? Is 
 the family which always asks, in its evening prayer, that 
 God will grant them quiet repose, never called up by the 
 sudden sickness of a child, or aroused at midnight by a 
 cry of fire ? Facts universally testify that God does not 
 grant every request. He reserves to himself the right, 
 after hearing the petition, to grant or to deny, as may 
 eeem best to him. 
 
 Then you will say, what good does it do to pray to God 
 in danger, if we can have no assurance that we shall be 
 safe ? It does great good. You cannot be sure that you 
 will be certainly preserved from that danger, but you can 
 rest calmly and peacefully in the assurance that God will 
 do what is on the whole for the best. " And will this fee}- 
 ing," you ask, " enable any one to rest in peace while
 
 CO YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll 3. 
 
 Socrates. His peace of mind. 
 
 he is out at sea in a storm, and in danger every moment 
 of sinking ?" Yes it will, if fully possessed. If we could 
 feel assured that God was our friend, and if we had entire 
 confidence in him, no danger would terrify us ; we should 
 he calm and happy in all situations. Christians have very 
 often been calm and happy when not danger merely, 
 hut certain death was approaching, so strong has been 
 their confidence in God. Even Socrates, who had no re- 
 velation to guide him, and to whom the future must have 
 been consequently very dark and uncertain, even he met 
 his fate not merely with fortitude, but with calmness and 
 peace, through the trust he reposed in his heavenly Pro- 
 tector. 
 
 He was in a cold dungeon, where his enemies had im- 
 prisoned him from jealousy of his extensive influence in 
 behalf of virtue. He had been condemned to die, and in 
 a few days the cup of poison was to be given him to 
 drink. His wife came to his prison to bid him farewell , 
 but she was so overwhelmed with agitation and sorrow 
 that she could not remain. His other friends were around 
 him in tears, but he was all the time unmoved. He talked 
 of the principles of duty, and of his hopes of a happy 
 immortality after the poison should have done its work. 
 Presently they brought him the fatal cup. His friends were 
 overwhelmed with the most agitating sorrow, but he 
 did not fear. He seemed to confide in divine protection, 
 and took the poison from the jailor's hands and drank it 
 all. He walked about a little while, and then laid down 
 upon his bed and died with apparent resignation. And 
 * hall a Christian, who knows the affection of his heavenly 
 Father, and who knows that there is a future world ot 
 peace and joy, shall he refuse to be calm in danger, unless 
 he can first be sure that he shall certainly be preserved 
 uninjured ? No. When we ask God's protection in danger, 
 we may, in all ordinary cases, expect protection. He lias 
 promised to grant our requests, unless special reasons
 
 Ch. 3.] PRAYER. 61 
 
 True composure; in danger. The prayer. 
 
 prevent. Now as we may not know what these special 
 reasons are, we cannot be certain of security, and conse- 
 quently the foundation of our peace and happiness at such 
 times must be, not the belief that we are certainly safe, 
 but a calm and happy acquiescence in God's will. Not a 
 sparrow falls to the ground without his knowledge still 
 sparrows often do fall. All that we can be absolutely cer- 
 tain of is, that whatever happens to us will corne with the 
 knowledge and permission of our best and greatest Friend 
 and every calamity which comes in this way, we ought 
 to be willing to meet. 
 
 But to return to our ship. The passengers were all 
 below. It was no longer safe for them to attempt to stand 
 in any part of the vessel, and the Christian traveler, look- 
 ing out from the berth to which he had retreated, called 
 upon God to save them from their common danger. What 
 prayer he offered I do not know. I learned the circum- 
 stances of the danger of this packet, first from a father 
 on shore who was wailing the arrival of his boy who 
 was on board when the storm came on, and afterward 
 from several of the passengers when they had all safely 
 reached the land. I do not therefore know what the prayer 
 was, but that I may the more distinctly convey to my 
 young readers an idea of the spirit with which prayer 
 in danger should be offered, I will write one which, it 
 seems to me, might with propriety, on such an occasion, 
 be offered. Let us imagine then that the terrified passen- 
 gers in their various berths in the dark cabin listen and 
 hear, as well as the howling of the tempest and the roai- 
 ing of the waves will permil, the following petition, in 
 which they endeavor cordially to join : 
 
 " Almighty God, tliou hast promised tnbe with two or three 
 who unite to call upon thee, wherever tliey are ; we come 
 therefore with full confidence that ihou art with us now, and 
 that thoi!, who dost rule wind and waves, ;trt really present, to 
 hear what we have to say as we come before Ihee. 
 
 " Grant, Holy Spirit, that all of us who are now present, ex-
 
 62 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 3. 
 
 The prayer at sea. Effects. 
 
 posed to this danger, may come with our whole hearts to thee. 
 When in health and safety we break thy commands and ne- 
 glect our duty, and then when danger comes, and no arm but 
 thine can help, we are ashamed and afraid to come to thee. 
 But O, our Father, let not one of us hesitate now. We thank 
 thee for teaching us, by so irresistible a proof, how dependant 
 we are upon thee. May we all be willing to learn the lesson, 
 and may we bow humbly before thee now, even if we have 
 never bowed before. 
 
 " We come to ask that thou wilt protect us in this danger, 
 and bring us safely to our homes. Thou canst protect from 
 greater dangers than these. Wilt thou protect us. Save us 
 from finding our watery grave here in the deep, and save our 
 beloved parents and brothers, and sisters, at home, from the 
 anxiety they must even now feel, and from the anguish such 
 tidings of our destruction must give. Almighty Father, save 
 us, we pray thee. 
 
 "Nevertheless, not our will but thine be done. We see but a 
 part, and thou seest the whole. If thou secst it to be best that 
 M*e should go down here to a watery grave, we woxild acqui- 
 esce in thy will. We have solemnly given ourselves to thee, 
 and chosen thee for our portion. We have, if we love thee at 
 all, committed ourselves to thy care and to thy disposal. We 
 have rejoiced in this dependence upon thee when we have 
 been in health and safety, and we will not shrink from our co- 
 venant to be thine, now we are in danger. Do with us as 
 seemeth good in thy sight, only give to us all a calm and happy 
 acquiescence in thy will. Pardon our sins, so that we may be 
 at peace with thee ; and whether we are to live or die, may our 
 hearts be tliine, through Christ, our Redcmer Amen." 
 
 Such may have been the spirit of the prayer. Such I 
 presume was the spirit of the petition offered on this oc- 
 casion. Every lu:art which will sincerely ofler such a 
 prayer when in danger, will feel relieved from its solici- 
 tude and fear. I am aware that in a case of imminent-ex- 
 posure of life, the terror excited is often a physical feeling 
 which moral causes will not fully control. Still this calm 
 acquiescence in Gori's superior wisdom and power will 
 ilo more than any other fi-rling can to produce peace.
 
 - 
 
 Ch. 3.] PRAYER. 63 
 
 Sincerity of prayer. Ardor in prayer. All can pray who like to. 
 
 III. Sincerity of prayer. Prayer is, in all ordinary 
 eases, and it ought to be, a calm and peaceful exercise, 
 not an agitating one. Many persons wait the hour of 
 prayer in trying to feel some deep agitation, imagining 
 that sincere and acceptable prayer cannot be offered with- 
 out it. You must be sincere when you pray, but you may 
 be calm. Read our Savior's model of prayer " Our Fa 
 ther who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy 
 kingdom come ; thy will be done on earth as it is in hea- 
 ven. Give us this day our daily bread, &c." What a 
 peaceful, quiet spirit it breathes! The great question in 
 regard to your prayer being acceptable is this : Do you 
 wish for any thing which you know no one but God can 
 grant, and are you willing to ask him in the name of Jesus 
 Christ ? If so, come at once and ask him. Ask with that 
 degree of feeling which your interest in the request 
 prompts, and no more. If you wish to increase your feel- 
 ing, you cannot do it in any way, except by increasing 
 your interest in the request. You may give additional 
 vividness to your idea of the value of the object sought, 
 by thinking of it, and considering how great a bless- 
 ing it would be to you if granted, and thus yon may 
 increase your ardor in prayer. But all direct attempts 
 to produce this ardor by effort will fail ; or if they suc- 
 ceed in producing some sort of excitement, it is not a 
 healthy, acceptable interest in prayer. 
 
 Now, after this explanation, those who read this can 
 easily tell whether they are prepared to offer, this night, 
 acceptable prayer to God. Do you wish to have God take 
 care of you while you sleep ? I do not mean, do you wish 
 to be safe every body wishes to be safe ; but do you wish 
 to have God at your bedside, protecting you? If you do 
 not, if the feeling of his presence would be a burden to 
 you and a restraint, of course you will not ask him to 
 come. But suppose yoii are desirous of naving him pre- 
 sent, are you then willing to ask him ? I do not inquire
 
 64 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 3. 
 
 Right spirit of prayer. Difficulty. 
 
 whether you are willing to struggle a long time with your 
 heart to awaken deep feeling enough to justify, in your 
 opinion, coming to God. Are you willing, as you retire 
 to rest to-night, to breathe a short and simple petition to 
 God to come and be your friend and ^protector for the 
 night, to acknowledge that you do not deserve his pro- 
 tection,, and that you ask it in the name of Jesus Christ? 
 If you are willing to do this, and if you actually do it. and 
 if you ask with that degree of feeling which your sincere 
 desire for God's protection prompts, you may lie down 
 in peace, sure that you have offered acceptable prayer. 
 
 But here I must mention a difficulty which many and 
 many a time has been brought to me by serious-minded 
 persons who wish to pray to God, but who think they 
 should not pray aright. I presume this difficulty has 
 wccurred to many who will read this chapter. I fancy 
 I can perceive thoughts like these passing through the 
 mind of some thoughtful conscientious one, who has 
 taken up this book honestly desiring to find in it reli- 
 gious instruction. 
 
 "If I understand the author right, he says, that if I to- 
 night pray to God to protect me, just because I want pro- 
 tection, or rather because I want his protection, that will 
 be acceptable prayer. But it seems to me that that would 
 be mere selfishness. I wish for a great many things which 
 I know none but God can grant, but if I ask them only be- 
 cause I feel the need of them, it is only a selfish desire 
 for my own happiness, and I cannot expect to be heard. 
 I should like such a friend as Jesus Christ, that I might 
 come to him in all my trials and troubles, and might seek 
 strength from him in temptation. But then this is all love 
 of my own happiness. I cannot be happy in sin ; there is a 
 foreboding and a burden from which I wish to be reliev- 
 d. But unless I have a higher motive than a wish to 
 obtain peace and happiness myself, I cannot expect to be 
 heard."
 
 Ch. 3.] PRAYER. 65 
 
 Reply. Invitation to the weary. The prodigal. 
 
 I have no doubt there are multitudes who are substan- 
 tially in this state of mind. They are deterred by this dif- 
 ficulty from coming cordially to their great Friend above. 
 I have stated the difficulty as distinctly and fully as I can, 
 adopting as nearly as possible the words in which it has 
 often been presented to me. I hope you will attend 
 carefully to my reply, and if it is satisfactory now, lay it 
 up in your memories, and never be embarrassed by- this 
 difficulty again. 
 
 My reply is substantially ihis that a desire for the 
 peace and happiness of piety is a perfectly proper motive 
 for coming to God. It is the motive which the Bible 
 every where presents. It is not> in any proper sense of 
 the term, selfishness. 
 
 First, I say it is a perfectly proper motive. God is our 
 great Creator and Protector, and he made us weak and 
 dependant, but desirous of peace and happiness, for the 
 very purpose of having us look to him for it. He never 
 intended to make a universe of stoics, in which each one 
 should be entirely indifferent about his own happiness. 
 The spectacle which he wishes to see is all happy, and 
 all happy in him. He wishes us to desire and seek his 
 happiness, and to come to him for it. 
 
 Again, I say that the Bible every where presents the 
 peace and happiness of piety as the motive why we should 
 seek it. Jesus stood and cried in a great concourse of 
 people, " Come unto me, all ye that labor and a^ heavy 
 laden, and I will give you rest." How strange that any 
 one can imagine after this, that a love of rest and a de- 
 sire to be relieved of burden, is not a proper motive for 
 coming to Jesus Christ ! The prodigal son, perhaps the 
 most striking and complete emblem of the penitent sin- 
 ner which the Bible contains, says, " How many hired 
 servants of my father have bread enough and to spare, 
 while I perish with hunger ! I will arise and go to my 
 father." Who would think, after reading this parable, that
 
 66 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll 3 
 
 A nobleman The desk. 
 
 any sinner would be afraid to come to the Savior because 
 his motive is to have his wants supplied ? Look at the 
 thousands who came to our Savior to be healed of their 
 diseases, or to be rescued from some suffering. Did he 
 ever turn them away because they came for their own be- 
 nefit? A nobleman came once. His son was at the point 
 of death. Parental affection urged him on. lie came and 
 begged the Savior to come and save his son. He was so 
 far from being under the influence of any high philoso- 
 phical notions of faith and disinterestedness, that when 
 the Savior began to speak of faith and the influence of 
 miracles upon it, he almost interrupted him by saying, 
 '* Come down, ere my child die." And did the Savior re- 
 pulse him, and say he was influenced by wrong motives ? 
 It was not a wrong motive. He wanted happiness, and 
 he was willing to come to Jesus Christ for it. And God 
 wishes to see the whole human race eager for the pure 
 joys of piety, and flocking around his throne to obtain 
 them. O, if any of you are weary with the burden of sin, 
 and long for the peace and happiness of piety, come 
 lioldly for it. Never fear that God will call it selfishness, 
 and drive you away. 
 
 Once more ; I said this could not be called selfishness; 
 aU'siring the happiness of virtue, and taking the proper 
 measures to preserve it, never is called selfishness, except 
 by persons lost in the mazes of metaphysics. Suppose 
 t\v<> children, whose parents had taught them habits of 
 rt'Kiilarity and order so fully that they take pleasure 
 in the systematic arrangement of all their little property, 
 rome and ask their father to let them have a large desk 
 which stands useless in the garret, to bring to their little 
 room, us a place of deposit for their books, and papers, 
 and toys. Suppose now he should inquire of the boys, 
 and should find that they have planned the disposal of 
 their effects exactly in the shelves and drawers of the 
 tk'sk, and are anticipating much enjoyment from the ex-
 
 Ch. 3.] PRAYER. 67 
 
 The father's refusal. Real selfishness. 
 
 pected acquisition. He sees their countenances bright- 
 ened with animation as they wait breathlessly to catch 
 his answer, and then to fly away and commence the re- 
 moval. Now suppose the father should stop them by 
 such absurd words as these: 
 
 " My boys, I am very sorry to find that you are so 
 selfish. I strongly suspect that the reason why you want 
 that desk is because you expect some pleasure from it. 
 Perhaps you think you will enjoy your property more 
 by seeing it well arranged in such a good store-house, or 
 perhaps you tkink you can spend rainy afternoons in 
 your room more pleasantly if you have it. Now that is 
 very wrong ; that is selfishness. To desire any thing for 
 the sake of the happiness which it affords is selfishness. 
 Unless you can ask for some better motive than that, I 
 cannot grant your requests." 
 
 I do not think that any gravity of countenance which 
 could be assumed would lead the boys to imagine that 
 their father could be serious in this. Certainly no parent 
 would ever say it ; and if earthly parents know how to 
 give good gifts to their children, how much more shall 
 your heavenly Father give his holy Spirit to them that 
 ask him ? that is, to them that ask him for it as a good 
 gift, something which is to do good to them. 
 
 'But what is selfishness? Why, if the desk, instead of 
 lying useless in the garret, was used by the older bro- 
 thers, and the younger wished to take it away, that would 
 be selfishness. A disposition to encroach upon the rights 
 and enjoyments of others in order to secure our own, is 
 selfishness ; and we must not come to God with this spi- 
 rit. 'If any one however desires peace and happiness, and 
 is satisfied that God only can give it, let him come and 
 ask. " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the wa- 
 ters." God never will repulse you, because thirst urges 
 you to come. 
 
 It is a very common impression among young persons,
 
 68 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 3. 
 
 Prayer of faith. The morning prayer meeting. 
 
 and perhaps some of mature minds are not entirely 
 from the same perplexity, that in order to render prayer 
 acceptable,' the Christian must have a full belief that his 
 request will be granted. This is called the prayer of faith. 
 Hence many persons when they strongly desire some spi- 
 ritual blessing for themselves or others, make a great 
 deal of effort, when they pray for it, to believe that they 
 shall receive it. Come with me to the morning prayer 
 meeting. A few Christians whose duties of business press 
 upon them during the day, assemble by the gray light of 
 the dawn around the early fire of some Christian neigh- 
 bor. They read and reflect a moment upon a few verses 
 of the Bible. They sing a hymn, and are just about to kneel 
 before God to unite in prayer for his blessing upon them- 
 selves and upon their families and neighbors during the 
 day, when perhaps one of the number addresses the 
 meeting as follows : 
 
 " My brethren, we come this morning to ask great bless- 
 ings, but we must have faith, or we cannot expect that 
 God will hear us. He has promised to hear us, and to give 
 us whatever we ask, believing. Let us believe then firmly 
 and cordially that God will hear us. And let us ask for 
 great blessings. God is ready to give us the greatest, if 
 we only have faith." 
 
 They then unite in prayer, and there kneels with them, 
 in a corner of the room, unnoticed perhaps by all but 
 God, a young disciple who has hesitatingly asked of the 
 master of the house permission to enjoy the privilege 
 of joining that circle of prayer. She understands the 
 exhortation which was given to mean, that she must fully 
 believe that the blessings to be asked will certainly be 
 granted. She tries therefore, as she listens to the words 
 of the prayer, to believe this. Perhaps the first request 
 is that God would pour out his Spirit upon all present, 
 and purify them, and keep them that day devoted to his 
 service and free from all sin. Now she thinks it right 10
 
 Ch. 3.] PRAYER. 69 
 
 1'rayer for a revival. Difficulty. 
 
 pray for this ; she sincerely desires it, but she cannot 
 really believe that it will be fully granted. Then she re- 
 proves herself for her unbelief; that is, for the feeling that 
 it is not probable that all present will be perfectly pure 
 and holy during that day. She struggles against this 
 feeling, but she cannot conquer it. Belief rests on evi- 
 dence, not on determination. 
 
 The next petition is for a powerful revival of pure re- 
 ligion in that neighborhood ; that, by a divine influence 
 exerted over their hearts, Christians may be led to love 
 their Maker more and to serve him better ; and that those 
 who are living in sin may universally be awakened to a 
 conviction of their guilt and danger, and be persuaded to 
 serve Jehovah. Now our young Christian sincerely de- 
 sires this, she hopes for it, but she is distressed be- 
 cause she cannot cordially believe that it will certainly 
 come, and she considers this feeling a want of faith. She 
 rises from her posture of devotion anxious and unhappy, 
 because she does not feel absolutely sure that what she 
 has asked is on the whole for the best, and that it will 
 certainly be granted. 
 
 Now all her difficulty arises from misunderstanding 
 the nature of the faith which ought to be exercised in 
 prayer. The remarks made meant, or they ought to have 
 meant, that we are to come to God confident that he will 
 do what is on the whole for the best, not positive that he 
 will do exactly what we ask. God never has given assem- 
 blies of Christians authority to mark out a course for hiir; 
 to pursue, in such a sense as that he shall be bound to 
 pursue it. He has promised to give us what we ask ; but 
 still the exceptions, universally understood to be implied 
 by this language in other cases, are attached to it in this. 
 We must offer our petitions, trusting in God, believing, 
 as the Bible expresses it, that he is, and that he is the re- 
 warder of them that diligently seek him ; but after we 
 have offered our most earnest requests, we must leave
 
 70 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. *Ch. 3. 
 
 God decides. The mother. 
 
 the matter with him. This is what is meant by the prayer 
 of faith, so often alluded to by Christian ministers. And 
 diis was the kind of faith our Savior required of those who 
 came to him to be healed. " Believest thou," said he, " that 
 I am able to do this ?" not that I shall do it. When the 
 apostles and brethren came together to pray for Peter, 
 they were so far from believing that their prayer for his 
 deliverance would be granted, that they were incredu- 
 lous when they saw him. They trusted in God, and be- 
 lieved that he would do what was right. This confidence 
 in him was the faith they exercised. Believing that ye 
 shall receive them, then, must mean believing that God 
 is able and willing to grant, except in those few cases 
 where imperious reasons compel him to deny. He sees 
 many material considerations in every case which are 
 entirely beyond our view, and we must leave him to 
 decide. 
 
 It is very often said that prayer for spiritual blessings 
 will always be heard and granted. But we can be no more 
 absolutely certain in this case than in others. God does 
 often withhold the influences of his Spirit, as we all know 
 full well. Who of us can tell what are the causes ? Look 
 at yonder mother. She has an only son. Her first prayer 
 in regard to him \vas that God would vnakc him his. She 
 consecrated htm to his Maker's service ut his earliest 
 breath. She rocked him to sleep in infancy, singing a 
 hymn of acknowledgment that he was the Lord's. As 
 soon as he could understand the lesson, she taught him 
 his duty to his great Creator. She has often knelt with 
 him in prayer, and her whole heart is set upon having 
 her only son devoted to the service of God. But all her 
 efforts are fruitless, and her prayers are not answered. 
 Her son grows up in indifference about God, which per- 
 haps becomes, when he has arrived at maturity, open hos- 
 tility. How many such mothers there are ! She was pray- 
 ing too for spiritual blessings, for the conversion of a son
 
 Ch. 3.] PRAYER, 71 
 
 God decides. A favorable answer to prayer never certain. 
 
 to Cod, but the sovereign Ruler leaves him, notwithstand 
 ing these supplications, to his own chosen way. 
 
 Yes God is a Sovereign. He dispenses all his favors 
 as he himself thinks best. He listens to our requests, 
 and takes them into kind consideration, but he reserves 
 to himself the right to make the ultimate decision. Let 
 us come to him then with real sincerity, and with a deep 
 sense of our need of the blessings we ask, but always 
 with this humble feeling, that God sees farther than we. 
 and can judge better, and that he will himself make the 
 ultimate decision in regard to every thing we ask. 
 
 And we must remember that this is just as true with 
 regard to spiritual blessings as to any other. The cause 
 of religion advances in the world in a manner which we 
 cannot predict or account for. I do not pretend to say 
 precisely how far and in what respects this progress de- 
 pends upon the agency of man, and how far upon power 
 which is in the hands of God. But every one, whatever 
 may be his ideas of the boundlessness of human freedom 
 acknowledges that a most important agency in determin- 
 ing where the Gospel shall triumph and where it shall fail, 
 and in regulating its progress throughout the earth, rests 
 in the hands of the Supreme. Now what Christian is 
 there who can understand the principles which guide Je- 
 hovah in the exercise of the power which he so obviously 
 possesses ? How many secretly think that the sudden 
 conversion of a whole city, perhaps, to God would be a 
 glorious achievement of the Redeemer, and fancy that if 
 they had the power over the heart which God possesses, 
 they would produce the effect at once, and exhibit the 
 magnificent spectacle of the undisputed reign of holiness 
 and peace in a community of one hundred thousand. Sup- 
 pose now every Christian in some great city were to 
 unite in a sincere and heartfelt prayer that God would 
 pour out his Spirit universally among them, and in a sin 
 gle day awaken all the multitudes around them to piety,
 
 72 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 3. 
 
 Submissive spirit. Prayers for the young. 
 
 It is indeed unquestionably true, that if this united prayer 
 should be offered, and should be accompanied by the ef- 
 forts which sincerity in the prayer would insure, most 
 uncommon effects would follow. But who believes that 
 the whole city would be converted in a day? No one. 
 Why] Because this is not according to the analogy ol 
 God's working in spreading the Gospel. And why does 
 he not work in this way, converting whole communities 
 at once, leading them to him by his own direct agency 
 upon the heart, as he now often leads individuals in si- 
 lence and solitude ? "Why does not God work in this 
 manner ? Some one may say, because Christians are so 
 cold and negligent in duty. Why then does not the power 
 which raised up Paul, raise up thousands like him now, and 
 enkindling within them the spirit and devotedness of the 
 great apostle, send them forth to bring the world at once 
 to him? Who can tell ? 
 
 No : we cannot direct. God guides by his own wis- 
 dom the chariot of his coming. We can ask, but we can- 
 not dictate. If we attempt to take the reins, he holds 
 them up far above our reach, and the wheels roll on 
 where God points the way. 
 
 The experienced Christian who reads these remarks, 
 intended to show that God really controls and directs 
 every thing relating to the progress of piety in the world, 
 will immediately say, " How liable are we to pervert this 
 truth, so as to excuse our own neglect of duty." Yes, it 
 is so. Men are every where so prone to throw off respon- 
 sibility from themselves, that the minister of the Gospel 
 is often almost afraid to prescribe fully and cordially God's 
 supreme power over the heart, for fear that men will lose 
 their sense of their own accountability. A mother will ask 
 that God will change the hearts of her children, and some- 
 times wait, as she expresses it, for God's time to come, . 
 while she in the meantime does nothing, or at most she 
 goes over the same formal round of duties, without any
 
 Ch. 3.^ PRAYER. 73 
 
 Danger of perversion. The bumble yet active teacher. 
 
 of that spirit, and enterprise, and ingenuity which she 
 would exercise if she knew that something depended 
 upon her own efforts. But this perversion of scripture 
 truth is not necessary or unavoidable. However difficult 
 it may be for us to understand how man can be fully free 
 and fully accountable, while God retains so much direct 
 power over his heart as the Bible so distinctly describes, 
 it is possible cordially to feel the accountability, and 
 at the same time sincerely to acknowledge the depen- 
 dence. Look at the case of that Christian teacher. She 
 prays most earnestly that God would come and bless the 
 school to which she belongs. She brings individual cases 
 in secrecy and solitude before God. She prays that faults 
 may be forgiven froward dispositions softened and ah' 
 brought under the influence of Christian love. She asks 
 that God will pour out his Spirit and diffuse peace and 
 happiness over the school-room, improving every cha- 
 racter, purifying and ennobling every heart, and making 
 the dejected happy, and the happy happier still. She has 
 seen such an influence diffused over a school she knows 
 it is from above, and she looks to Him who rules human 
 hearts to come into her circle with his benign influences 
 once more. Now, docs she after this go away and spend 
 her time in inaction, on the ground that God only can 
 change the heart, and that she has done all in her power 
 by bringing the case to him ? No, she comes to her morn- 
 ing duties in the school-room with a heart full of desire 
 to do something- to promote what she has asked God to 
 bestow. And she does accomplish something. By her 
 kindness she wins her companions to her confidence and 
 love, and in thousand nameless ways which never can be 
 described, but which a heart full of love will always be 
 discovering, she carries forward very effectually in her 
 little circle the cause for which she prays. 
 
 It is so universally. When a minister allows his sense 
 of his entire dependence on God to become feeble or 
 
 4
 
 74 YOUNG CHRISTIAN'. [Ch. 3. 
 
 Conclusion. Story of the. ship concluded. 
 
 indistinct, his efforts, instead of increasing, diminish. 
 It may be called the Christian paradox, that he who, in 
 theory, ascribes least eflicacy to human efforts and most 
 to the Spirit of God in the salvation of men, is ordinarily 
 most indefatigable in those very efforts which he knows 
 are of themselves utterly fruitless and vain. 
 
 And here I might close this long chapter, by urging 
 my readers to commence immediately the practice of 
 bringing all their wants and cares to God. I trust some 
 have been persuaded by it to do so. Some of my young 
 readers however probably wish to know what became of 
 the packet ship which I left in imminent danger out in 
 the bay; for that narrative is substantially true, though 
 I was not an eye witness of the scene. Whenl left them 
 they were tossing about upon the waves ; the storm was 
 increasing, the captain had almost given them over for 
 lost, and those of the passengers who were not prepared 
 to die were greatly agitated by remorse and terror 
 Things continued in this state for some hours, and very 
 few of those on board expected to see another morning. 
 The passengers in the cabin however before long, per- 
 ceived that the violence of the tempest was a little abat- 
 ing ; the thunder of the wind and waves grew somewhat 
 less ; and though the pitching and tossing of the ship ra- 
 ther increased than diminished, they began to cherish a 
 little hope ; some of the number even fell into a troubled 
 sleep. 
 
 At last there were indications of the morning. The 
 dim form of objects in the cabin began to be a little more 
 distinct. The gray light of day looked down through the 
 narrow window of the deck. As the passengers aroused 
 themselves, one after another, and looked forth from their 
 berths, they perceived at once that the danger was over. 
 They went to the deck, clinging to something firm for 
 support, for the wind was still brisk, and the sea still 
 heaved and tumbled in great commotion. But the danger
 
 Ch. 4.] CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 75 
 
 The 3torm subsides. Safe arrival at Provincetown. 
 
 was over. The sky was clear. A broad zone of light ex- 
 tended itself in the east, indicating the approaching sun ; 
 and not many miles distant there was extended a level 
 sandy shore lined with dwellings, and opening to a small 
 harbor, tilled with vessels which had sought shelter there 
 from the fury of the storm. It was Provincetown, at the 
 ex-tremity of the Cape. I need not say that the passen 
 gers and crew assembled once more, before they landed, 
 at the throne of grace, to give thanks to God for having 
 heard their prayer and granted them protection. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 
 " If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them." 
 
 I have now, in the several chapters which the reader 
 has already had the opportunity of perusing, endeavored 
 clearly to explain the first steps to be taken in Christian 
 duty, and the principles and feelings by which they ought 
 to be guided, and I think that all who have read these 
 pages must have understood clearly and distinctly what 
 they ought to do. Take for example the subject of the 
 first chapter Confession. You cannot read or even think 
 upon that subject for half an hour, without seeing plainly 
 that you have disobeyed God again and again, and that 
 you have, by thus doing what you know to be wrong, de- 
 stroyed your peace of mind and displeased your Maker. 
 This no one can deny. There is a vast variety of religious 
 opinion and religious controversy in the world, but I be- 
 lieve no sect, believing the existence of the Deity, was 
 ever heard of, which maintained that man does not do 
 wrong, or that he ought not to acknowledge his sins to 
 God. 
 
 But when you saw clearly that you had done wrong,
 
 76 VOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 4. 
 
 Neglecting duty. Injury which (his book will do. 
 
 and destroyed your peace, did you go and seek this re- 
 conciliation ? How many probably read that chapter, 
 and distinctly understood what duty it urged upon them, 
 and saw the reasonableness of that duty, and yet shut the 
 book and laid it away, without ever intending at all to set 
 resolutely about doing it. To understand clearly w r hat 
 duty is, and to have a disposition to do it, are very dif- 
 ferent things. 
 
 I have during the preceding chapters been explaining 
 what the duty of my readers is. I have said scarcely 
 any thing to persuade you to do it, and as I have gone 
 on from page to page, and endeavored so to explain and 
 illustrate the principles of piety that every one could 
 clearly understand, the melancholy reflection has often 
 forced itself upon me, "How many now will read or 
 hear read these things, and yet entirely neglect to do any 
 thing I describe." " Melancholy reflection !" you will say, 
 perhaps, " why do you call it a melancholy reflection ? 
 If some are induced to do their duty in consequence 
 of your explanations, you may rejoice in the good which 
 is done, and not think at all of those who disregarded 
 what you say. The book will certainly do them no 
 harm. 
 
 Will do them no harm ? I wish that could be true. But 
 it is not. The religious teacher cannot console himself 
 with the thought that when his efforts do no good, they 
 will do no harm. For he must, if he speaks distinctly, 
 and brings fairly forward a subject of duty, cause every 
 one of his readers to decide for it or against it ; and when 
 a person decides against duty, is he not injured ? Is not 
 good principle defeated or weakened, and his heart hard- 
 ened against a future appeal? 
 
 The chapter on Confession of Sin, for example, has 
 been undoubtedly read by multitudes who shut the book 
 and laid it aside, without at all attempting to perform the 
 duty there pointed out. The duty was plainly brought
 
 Ch. 4.] CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 77 
 
 The disobedient child. The message disregarded. 
 
 before them. They could not, and probably would not, 
 deny its obligation. But instead of going accordingly to 
 God, and seeking peace and reconciliation to him by a 
 free confession of guilt, they laid the book away, and 
 after a very short time, all the serious thoughts it sug- 
 gested vanished from their minds, and they returned as 
 before to their sins. Now this is deciding- once more, dis- 
 tinctly against God. 
 
 For to decide against God it is not necessary to use the 
 actual language of disobedience. Suppose that a father 
 sends a child to call back his little sister, who is going 
 away contrary to the parent's wishes. The boy runs and 
 overtakes her, and delivers his message. The child stops 
 a moment, and listens to the command that she should 
 return immediately to her home. She hesitates thinks 
 of her father and of her duty to obey him, and then looks 
 over the green fields through which she was walking, 
 and longs to enjoy the forbidden pleasure. There is a 
 momentary struggle in her heart, and then she turns away 
 and walks boldly and carelessly on. The messenger re- 
 turns slowly and sadly home. 
 
 But why does he return sadly ? He has done his duty 
 in delivering the message. Why should he be sad ? He 
 is sad to think of the double guilt which his sister has in- 
 curred. He thinks that the occasion which his coming up 
 to her presented, might have been the means of her re- 
 turn and of her forgiveness, but that it was the means of 
 confirming her in disobedience, and of hardening her heart 
 against the claims of her father. 
 
 It is just so with the messages which a Christian teacher 
 brings to those who listen to his words. If they do not, 
 listen to obey, they listen to reject and disobey, and eve- 
 ry refusal to do duty hardens the heart in sin. There can 
 be no question, therefore, that such a book as this must, 
 in many cases, be the innocent means of fixing human 
 souls in their sins, as the Gospel itself, while it is a sa-
 
 78 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 4. 
 
 The Christian message. Story of Louisa. 
 
 vor of life unto life to some, to others it is a savor of death 
 unto death. 
 
 Reader, is your name on the sad catalogue of those who 
 read religious books and listen to religious instruction 
 merely to bring the question of duty again and again be- 
 fore your minds, only to decide that you will not doit? 
 If it is, read and consider attentively the narrative to 
 which the remainder of this chapter is devoted. It has 
 never before been published. I providentially met with it 
 in manuscript while writing these chapters, and it teaches 
 so forcibly the lesson that ought now to be impressed up- 
 on my readers, that I requested of the clergyman who 
 wrote it, permission to insert it here. The circumstan- 
 ces are of recent occurrence, and the reader may rely 
 upon the strict truth and faithfulness of the description. 
 
 The reader will observe however that there are no re- 
 markable incidents in his case. There are no peculiar 
 circumstances of any kind to give interest to the narra- 
 tive. It is only a plain common instance, such as are 
 occurring all around us by tens of thousands, of the con- 
 sequences of being almost persuaded to be a Christian 
 
 STORY OF LOUISA. 
 
 SHORTLY after my settlement in the ministry, I ob- 
 served in the congregation a young lady whose blooming 
 countenance and cheerful air showed perfect health and 
 high elation of spirits. Her appearance satisfied me at 
 once that she was amiable and thoughtless. There was 
 no one of my charge whose prospects for long life were 
 more promising than her own, and perhaps no one who 
 looked forward to the future with more pleasing hopes of 
 enjoyment. To her eye the world seemed bright. She 
 often said she wished to enjoy more of it before she be- 
 came a Christian. 
 
 Louisa (for by that name I shall call her) manifested
 
 Ch. 4.] CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 79 
 
 Her character. The evening meeting. 
 
 no particular hostility to religion, but wished to live a gay 
 and merry life till just before her death, and then to be- 
 come pious and die happy. She was constant in her at- 
 tendance at church, and while others seemed moved by 
 the exhibition of the Savior's love, she seemed entirely 
 unaffected. Upon whatever subject I preached, her 
 countenance retained the same marks of indifference and 
 unconcern. The same easy smile played upon her fea- 
 tures, whether sin or death, or heaven or hell, was the 
 theme of discourse. One evening I invited a few of the 
 young ladies of my society to meet at my house. She 
 came with her companions. I had sought the interview 
 with them, that I might more directly urge upon them the 
 importance of religion. All the room were affected and 
 she, though evidently moved, endeavored to conceal her 
 feelings. 
 
 The interest in this great subject manifested by those 
 present was such, that I informed them that I would meet, 
 in a week from that time, any who wished for personal 
 conversation. The appointed evening arrived, and I was 
 delighted in seeing, with two or three others, Louisa en- 
 ter my house. 
 
 I conversed with each one individually. They gene- 
 rally, with much frankness, expressed their state of feel- 
 ing. Most of them expressed much solicitude respecting 
 their eternal interests. Louisa appeared different from 
 all the rest. She was anxious and unable to conceal her 
 anxiety, and yet ashamed to have it known. She had come 
 to converse with me upon the subject of religion, and yet 
 was making an evident effort to appear indifferent. I had 
 long felt interested in Louisa, and was glad of this oppor- 
 tunity to converse with her. 
 
 "Louisa," said I, "I am happy to see you here this 
 evening, and particularly so, as you have come interested 
 in the subject of religion." 
 
 She made no reply.
 
 80 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 4. 
 
 Louisa's interest in religion. Conversation with her. 
 
 41 Have you been long thinking upon this subject, 
 Louisa ?" 
 
 44 I always thought the subject important, sir, but have 
 not attended to it as I suppose I ought." 
 
 "Do you now feel the subject to be more important 
 than you have previously?" 
 
 44 1 don't know, sir ; I think I want to be a Christian. 
 
 44 Do you fed that you are a sinner, Louisa?" 
 
 44 1 know that I am a sim.er, for the Bible says so, but 
 I suppose that I do not feel it enough.' 
 
 44 Can you expect that God will receive you into his 
 favor while you are in such a state of mind ? He has 
 made you, and he is now taking care of you, giving you 
 every blessing and every enjoyment you have, and yet 
 you have lived many years without any gratitude to him, 
 and continually breaking his commandments, and now do 
 not feel that you are a sinner. What would you think 
 of a child whose kind and affectionate parents had done 
 every thing in their power to make her happy, and who 
 should yet not feel that she had done any thing wrong, 
 though she had been every day disobeying her parents, 
 and had never expressed any gratitude for their kindness ? 
 You, Louisa, would abhor such a child. And yet this is 
 the way you have been treating your heavenly Father. 
 And he has heard you say this evening, that you do not 
 feel that you have done wrong, and he sees your heart 
 and knows how unfeeling it is. Now, Louisa, you must 
 be lost, unless you repent of your sins and ask humbly 
 and earnestly for forgiveness. And why will you not ? 
 You know that Christ has died to atone for sin, and that 
 God will forgive you for his Son's sake,if you are penitent." 
 
 To this Louisa made no reply. She did not seem dis- 
 pleased, neither did her feelings appear subdued. 
 
 After addressing a few general remarks to my young 
 friends, we kneeled in prayer, and the interview closed. 
 Another meeting was appointed on the same evening of
 
 Ch. 4.] CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 81 
 
 Increasing interest. Unwilling to yield to God. 
 
 the succeeding week. Louisa again made her appearance 
 with the same young ladies and a few others. She ap- 
 peared much more deeply impressed. Her coldness and 
 reserve had given place to a frank expression of interest 
 and exhibition of feeling. 
 
 " Well, Louisa," said I, as in turn I commenced con- 
 versing with her, " I was almost afraid I should not see 
 you here this evening." 
 
 " I feel, sir," said she, " that it is time for me to attend 
 to my immortal soul. I have neglected it too long." 
 
 " Do you feel that you are a sinner, Louisa ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, I do." 
 
 " Do you think, Louisa, you have any claim upon God 
 to forgive you ?" 
 
 "No, sir. It would be just in God to leave me to pe- 
 rish. I think I want to repent, but I cannot. I want to 
 love God, but do not know how I can." 
 
 " Do you remember, Louisa, that Christ has said, "Who- 
 soever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, 
 he cannot be my disciple?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well, Louisa, now count the cost ; are you ready to 
 give up all for Christ ? Are you ready to turn from your 
 gay companions, and lay aside ycnir frivolous pleasures, 
 and acknowledge the Savior publicly, and be derided, as 
 perhaps you will be, by your former friends, and live a 
 life of prayer and of effort to do good t" 
 
 She hesitated for a moment, and then replied, " I am 
 afraid not." 
 
 " Well, Louisa, the terms of acceptance with God are 
 plain, and there is no altering them. You cannot serve 
 God and Mammon. If you woulJ be >a Christian, you 
 must renounce all sin, and with a broken heart surrender 
 yourself entirely to the Savior." 
 
 The evening's interview closed as before, and a simi- 
 lar appointment was made for the next week. Some of
 
 82 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 4. 
 
 Her sickness. She sends for her pastor. 
 
 the young ladies present, I had reason to believe, had ac- 
 cepted the terms of salvation. The next week about the 
 same number were present, but Louisa was not with 
 them ; a slight cold had detained her. But the week after 
 she again appeared. To my great disappointment I found 
 her interest diminishing. Though not exhibiting that 
 cold reserve which she at first manifested, she seemed far 
 less anxious than at our last interview: the Spirit was 
 grieved away. This was the last time she called to see 
 me ; but alas ! I was soon called to see her under circum- 
 stances which at that time were but little anticipated. 
 These social meetings continued for some time, and many 
 of Louisa's associates, I have cause to hope, became the 
 disciples of Jesus. 
 
 , Two or three months passed away, and my various 
 duties so far engrossed my mind that my particular inte- 
 rest in Louisa's spiritual welfare had given place to other 
 solicitudes ; when one day as I was riding out, making 
 parochial visits, one of my parishioners informed me that 
 she was quite unwell, and desired to see me. In a few 
 moments I was in her sick chamber. She had taken a 
 violent cold, and it had settled into a fever. She was 
 lying in her bed, her cheek glowing with the feverish hue, 
 and her lips parched with thirst. She seemed agitated 
 when I entered the room, and the moment I stood by her 
 bedside and inquired how she did, she covered her face 
 with both hands and burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 Her sister, who was by her bedside, immediately turned 
 to me and said, " Sir, she is in great distress of mind. 
 Mental agony has kept her awake nearly all night. She 
 has wanted very much to see you, that you might con- 
 verse with her." 
 
 1 was fearful that the agitation of her feelings might 
 seriously injure her health, and did all I consistently could 
 to soothe and quiet her. 
 
 " But, sir," said Louisa, " I am sick, and may die ; I
 
 Ch. 4.] CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 83 
 
 Her alarm. Her increasing anxiety 
 
 know that I am not a Christian, and O if I die in this 
 state of mind, what will become of me ? What will be- 
 come of me ?" and she again burst into tears. 
 
 What could I say ? Every word she said was true. Her 
 eyes were opened to her danger. There was cause for 
 alarm. Sickness was upon her. Delirium might soon 
 ensue ; death might be very near ; and her soul was un- 
 prepared to appear before God. She saw it all ; she felt 
 it all. Fever was burning in her veins. But she forgot 
 her pain, in view of the terrors of approaching judgment, 
 
 I told her that the Lord was gooJ, and that his tender 
 mercies were over all his works ; that He was more ready 
 to forgive than we to ask forgiveness. 
 
 " But, sir," said she, " I have known my duty long, and 
 have not done it. I have been ashamed of the Savior, 
 and grieved away the Spirit ; and now I am upon a sick 
 bed, and perhaps must die. O, if I were but a Christian 
 I should be willing to die." 
 
 I told her of the Savior's love. I pointed to many of 
 God's precious promises to the penitent. I endeavored 
 to induce her to resign her soul calmly to the Savior. But 
 all was unavailing. Trembling and agitated she was look- 
 ing forward to the dark future. The Spirit of the Lord 
 had opened her eyes, and through her own reflections had 
 led her into this state of alarm. I knelt by her bedside and 
 fervently prayed that the Holy Spirit would guide her to 
 the truth, and that the Savior would speak peace to her 
 troubled soul. O could they, who are postponing repent- 
 ance to a sick bed, have witnessed the suffering of this 
 once merry girl, they would shudder at the thought of 
 trusting to a dying hour. How poor a time to prepare to 
 meet God, when the rmnd is enfeebled, when the body is 
 restless or racked with pain, and when mental agitation 
 frustrates the skill of the physician. Yet so it is. One half 
 the world are postponing repentance to a dyingbed. And 
 when sickness comes, the very circumstance of being
 
 84 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 4 
 
 Death-bed repentance. Increasing sickness, and mental suffering 
 
 unprepared hurries the miserable victim to the grave. 
 
 The next day I called again to see Louisa. Her fever 
 was still raging, and its fires were fanned by mental suf- 
 fering. Poor girl ! thought I, as the first glance of her 
 countenance showed the strong lineaments of despair. 
 I needed not to ask how she felt. Her countenance told 
 her feelings. And I knew that while her mind was in this 
 state, restoration to health was out of the question. 
 
 " And can you not, Louisa," said I, " trust your soul 
 with the Savior who died for you ? He has said, " Come 
 unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will 
 give you rest." 
 
 " O, sir, I know the Savior is merciful, but somehow 
 or other I cannot go to him, I know not why O, I am 
 miserable indeed." 
 
 " Do you think, Louisa, that you are penitent for sin ? 
 If you are, you are forgiven ; for God who gave his Son 
 to die for us, is more ready to pardon than we to ask for- 
 giveness. He is more ready to give good gifts to the 
 penitent than any earthly parent to give bread to his 
 hungry child." 
 
 1 then opened the Bible at the 15th chapter of Luke, 
 and read the parable of the prodigal son. I particularly 
 directed her attention to the 20th verse : " When he was 
 yet a great way off his father saw him, and had compas- 
 sion, and ran, and fell upon his neck and kissed him." 
 
 " O, sir,'' said she, " none of these promises are for me. 
 I find no peace to my troubled spirit. I have long been 
 sinning against God, and now he is summoning me to 
 render up my account, and O ! what an account have I 
 to render ! The doctor gives me medicine, but I feel that 
 it does no good, for I can think of nothing but my poor 
 soul. Even if I were perfectly well, I could hardly en- 
 dure the view which God has given me of my sins. If 
 they were forgiven, how happy should I be ! but now 
 O '" her voice was stopped by a fit of shuddering, which
 
 Oil. 4.] CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING DUTY. 66 
 
 Louisa's despair. Her advice to her young friends. 
 
 agitated those around her with the fear that she might be 
 dying. Soon, however, her nerves were more quiet, and 
 I kneeled to commend her spirit to the Lord. 
 
 As I rode home, her despairing countenance was un- 
 ceasingly before me. Her lamentations, her mournful 
 groans, were continually crying in rny ears. As I kneeled 
 with my family at evening, I bore Louisa upon my heart 
 to the throne of grace. All night I was restlessly upon 
 my pillow dreaming of unavailing efforts at this sick bed. 
 
 Another morning came. As I knocked at the door of 
 her dwelling I felt a most painful solicitude as to the 
 answer I might receive. 
 
 " How is Louisa this morning?" said I to the person 
 who opened the door. 
 
 " She is fast failing, sir, and the doctor thinks she can- 
 not recover. We have just sent for her friends to come 
 and see her before she dies." 
 
 "Is her mind more composed than it has been?" 
 
 " O no, sir. She has had a dreadful night. She says 
 that she is lost, and that there is no hope for her." 
 
 I went into her chamber. Despair was pictured more 
 deeply than ever upon her flushed and fevered counte- 
 nance. I was surprised at the strength she still manifest- 
 ed as she tossed from side to side. Death was evidently 
 drawing near. She knew it. She had lived without God, 
 and felt that she was unprepared to appear before him. A 
 few of her young friends were standing by her bedside. 
 She warned them in the most affecting terms to prepare for 
 death while in health. She told them of the mental agony 
 she was then enduring, and of the heavier woes which 
 were thickly scattered through that endless career she 
 was about to enter. All her conversation was interspers- 
 ed with the most heart-rending exclamations of despair. 
 She said she knew that God was ready to forgive the sin- 
 cerely penitent, but that her sorrow was not sorrow for 
 sin, but dread of its awful penalty.
 
 86 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 4. 
 
 Last visit. Her sufferings. 
 
 I had already said all that I could to lead her to the 
 Savior but no Savior cast his love on this dying bed 
 no ray of peace cheered the departing soul. Youth and 
 beauty were struggling with death ; and as that eye which 
 but a few days before had sparkled with gaiety, now gaz- 
 ed on to eternity, it was fixed in an expression of despair. 
 
 " By many a death-bed I had been, 
 " And many a sinner's parting seen, 
 " But never aught like this." 
 
 There was nothing that could be said. The meanings 
 of the sufferer mingled with the prayer, which was almost 
 inarticulately uttered, from the emotions which the scene 
 inspired. 
 
 Late in the afternoon I called again. But her reason 
 was gone, and in restless agony she was grappling with 
 death. Her friends were standing around her, but she did 
 not recognize them. Every eye in the room Avas filled 
 with tears, but poor Louisa saw not, and heeded not their 
 weeping. It was a scene which neither pen nor pencil 
 can portray. At the present moment that chamber of 
 death is as vividly present to my mind as it was when I 
 looked upon it through irrepressible tears. I can now sec 
 the disorder of the dying bed the restless form the 
 swollen veins the hectic burning cheek the eyes rolling 
 wildly around the room and the weeping friends. Who 
 can describe such a scene ? And who can imagine the 
 emotions which one must feel who knew her history, and 
 who knew that this delirium succeeded temporal, and 
 perhaps preceded eternal despair. Louisa could no longer 
 listen to my prayers ; she could no longer receive the 
 precious instructions of God's word. And what could be 
 said to console her friends ? Nothing. " Be still, and 
 know that I am God," was all that could be said. I could 
 only look and listen with reverence, inwardly praying 
 that the sad spectacle might not be lost upon any of us. 
 For some time I lingered around the solemn scene in
 
 Ch. 5.] ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 87 
 
 She dies at midnight. Her feelings at last. Almost a Christian. 
 
 silence. Not a word was spoken. All knew that death was 
 near. The friends who were most deeply affected strug- 
 gled hard to restrain the audible expression of grief. In 
 silence I had entered the room, and in silence and sad- 
 ness I went away. 
 
 Early the next morning I called at the door to inquire 
 for Louisa. 
 
 " She is dead, sir," was the reply to my question. 
 
 "At what time did she die?" 
 
 " About midnight, sir." 
 
 "Was her reason restored before her death ?" 
 
 " It appeared partially to return a few moments before 
 she breathed her last, but she was almost gone, and we 
 could hardly understand what s li e said." 
 
 "Did she seem anymore peaceiul in her mind?" 
 
 " Her friends thought, sir, that she did express a willing- 
 ness to depart, but she was so weak and so far gone that 
 it was impossible for her to express her mind with any 
 clearness." 
 
 This is all that can be said of the eternal prospects of 
 one who "wished to live a gay and merry life till just 
 before death, and then to become pious and die happy" 
 Reader ! 
 
 " Be wise TO-DAY 'tis madness to defer." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 
 ' Ye will not come unto me." 
 
 THE melancholy story related in the last chapter is not 
 an uncommon one. It is the story of thousands. All that 
 is necessary, reader, to make the case your own, is that 
 vou should feel such a degree of interest in religious du-
 
 68 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6. 
 
 Louisa's case a common one. Neglecting duty when it is pointed out. 
 
 ties as to open your eyes clearly to their demands, but 
 yet not enough to induce you cordially to comply with 
 them, and then that death should approach you while 
 you are thus unprepared. The gloomy forebodings and 
 the dreadful remorse which darkened Louisa's last hours, 
 must in such a case be yours. 
 
 It was not my intention, when forming the plan of Ihis 
 work, to have it present religious truth and duty in gloomy 
 or melancholy aspects. Religion is a most cheerful and 
 happy thing to practise, but a most sad and melancholy 
 thing to neglect, and as undoubtedly some who read this 
 book will read it only to understand their duty, without 
 at all setting their hearts upon the performance of it, I 
 ought to devote one or two chapters particularly to them. 
 The case of Louisa, though it was a melancholy one, was 
 real. And what has once occurred, may occur again. 
 You will observe too, that all the suffering which she 
 manifested in her dying hour was the work of conscience. 
 The minister did all he could to sojtke and calm her. 
 Examine all the conversation he had with her at her bed- 
 side, and you will find that it was the language of kind 
 invitation. 
 
 Sometimes such a dying scene as this is the portion 
 of an individual who has lived a life of open and unbridled 
 wickedness. But, generally, continued impiety and vice 
 lulls the conscience into a slumber which it requires a 
 stronger power than that of sickness or approaching 
 death to awaken. Louisa was ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. She 
 was nearly persuaded to begin a life of piety. In just such a 
 state of mind, my reader, it is very probable you may be 
 Perhaps since you have been reading this book, you have 
 been thinking more and more seriously of your Chris- 
 tian duty, and lelt a stronger and stronger intention of 
 doing it, at least at some future time. You ought, after 
 having read the first chapter, to have gone at once and 
 fully confessed all your sins to God. "When you read the
 
 Cll. 5.] ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 89 
 
 How to begin your duty. Design of this chapter 
 
 second, you should have cordially welcomed the Savior 
 as your friend, and chosen him as your Redeemer and 
 portion. You ought to have been induced by the third to 
 begin immediately a life of prayer, and to have been con- 
 stant and ardent at the throne of Grace since you read it. 
 But perhaps you neglected all this. You understand very 
 clearly what Christian duty is. It is plain to you that 
 there is a Being above, with whom you ought to live in 
 constant communion. You understand clearly how you 
 are to begin your duty, if you have neglected it hereto- 
 fore, by coming and confessing all your sins, and seeking 
 forgiveness through Jesus Christ, who has died for you. 
 Thus you know what duty is. The solitary difficulty is, 
 that you will not do it. 
 
 But why ? What can be the cause of that apparent in- 
 fatuation which consists in continually neglecting a duty 
 which you acknowledge to be a duty, and which you 
 know it would increase your happiness to perform ? 
 Were I to ask you, it is very probable you would say 
 what I have known a great many others to say in your 
 situation it would be this : 
 
 " I know I am a sinner against God, and I wish to re- 
 pent and be forgiven, and to love and serve my Maker, but 
 / do not see how I can." 
 
 My reader, is this your state of mind ? Many persons 
 do use this language, and use it honestly. That is, they use 
 it honestly, if they mean by it what the language properly 
 does mean, that they see the propriety, and duty, and 
 happiness of a new life, so that in some sense they desire 
 it, but that some secret cause, which they have not yet 
 discovered, prevents their obedience. I design in this 
 chapter to help you to discover what that cause is. If 
 you really wish to discover and^ to remove it, you will 
 read the chapter carefully, with a willingness to be con- 
 vinced, and you will often pause to apply what is said to 
 your own case,
 
 90 VOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 5 
 
 Procrastination. The student's evening walk 
 
 There are three very common causes which operate to 
 prevent persons, who are almost Christians, from becom- 
 ing so altogether. 
 
 I. A spirit of procrastination. Waiting for a '.,iore con- 
 venient season. The following case illustrates this part 
 of our subject : 
 
 A boy of about twelve or fourteen years of age, a mem- 
 ber of an academy, in which he is pursuing his studies 
 preparatory to his admission to college, sees the duty of 
 commencing a Christian life. He walks some evening at 
 sunset alone over the green fields which surrounds the 
 village in which he resides, and the stillness and beauty ot 
 the scene around him bring him to a serious and thoughtful 
 frame of mind. God is speaking to him in the features of 
 beauty and splendor in which the face of nature is decked. 
 The glorious western sky reminds him of the hand which 
 spread its glowing colors. He looks into the dark grove 
 in the edge of which he is walking, and its expression of 
 deep, unbroken solitude, brings a feeling of calm solem- 
 nity over his soul. The declining sun, the last faint 
 whispers of the dying evening breeze, the solitary and 
 mournful note which comes to him from a lofty branch of 
 some tall tree in the depth of the forest, these, and the 
 thousand other circumstances of such a scene, speak to 
 him most distinctly of the flight of time, and of the ap- 
 proach of that evening when the sun of his life is to de- 
 cline, and this world cease for ever to be his home. 
 
 As he muses in this scene, he feels the necessity of a 
 preparation for death, and as he walks slowly homeward, 
 he is almost determined to come at once to the conclu- 
 sion to commence immediately a life of piety. He reflects 
 however upon the unpleasant publicity of such a change. 
 He has many irreligious friends whom it is hard to relin- 
 quish, and he shrinks from forming new acquaintances 
 in a place he is so soon to leave. He reflects that he is 
 soon to be transferred to college, and that there he can
 
 Ch. 5.] ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 91 
 
 The admission to college. Resolution. 
 
 begin anew. He resolves that when he enters college 
 walls, he will enter a Christian; that he will from the 
 first be known as one determined to do his duty toward 
 God. He will form no irreligious friendships, and then 
 he will have none to sunder. He will fall into no irreli- 
 gious practices, and then he will have none to abandon. 
 He thinks he can thus avoid the awkwardness of a pub- 
 lic change. He is ungenerous enough to wish to steal thus 
 secretly into the kingdom of heaven, without humbling 
 any of his pride by an open admission that he has been 
 wrong. He waits for a more convenient season. 
 
 When he finds himself on college ground however, his 
 heart does not turn any more easily to his duties toward 
 God. First, there is the feverish interest of the exami- 
 nation, then the novelty of the public recitation-room, 
 the untried, unknown instructor, the new room-mate, 
 and all the multiplied and varied excitements which 
 are always to be found in college walls. There are new 
 acquaintances to be formed, new countenances to specu- 
 late upon, and new characters to study, and in these and 
 similar objects of occupation and interest week after week 
 glides rapidly away. At last on Saturday evening, the 
 last of the term, he is walking over the college grounds, 
 and among the other serious reflections that come upon 
 his mind, there are the following : 
 
 " One whole term has now passed, and what have be- 
 come of all my resolutions to return to God? How swiftly 
 the weeks have glided away, and I have been going farther 
 and farther away from God and from duty. I find that I 
 cannot in college, any more than in any other place, be- 
 come a Christian without effort and self-denial. I must 
 come boldly tc the duty of giving up. my heart to God 
 and commencing publicly a Christian life ; and whenever 
 I do this, it must be hard at first. I will attend to the sub- 
 ject this vacation. I shall be quiet and retired at home, 
 and shall have a favorable opportunity there to attend to
 
 92 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6 
 
 Reflections. Resolutions for senior year. 
 
 my duty and return to God. I will come back to college 
 next term a new man." 
 
 Such are his reflections. Instead of resolving to do his 
 duty now, he looks forward again, notwithstanding his 
 former disappointment, to another more convenient sea- 
 son. The bustle of the closing term, and the plans and 
 preparations for the approaching vacation, soon engross 
 his mind, and instead of coming to his Maker at once and 
 going home a Christian, he puts it off in hopes to return 
 one. Vain hope ! He will undoubtedly come back as he 
 goes, procrastinating duty. 
 
 Term after term, and vacation after vacation passes 
 away, and the work of preparing for another world is 
 still postponed and neglected. The longer it is postponed 
 the worse it is, for he is becoming more and more known 
 as an irreligious young man, and more and more inti- 
 mately connected with those whose influence is all against 
 religion. He soon quiets conscience with the reflection 
 that, while he is in the lower classes, he is much more 
 under the control of public opinion ; others, older and 
 more advanced than he, take the lead in forming the sen- 
 timents of the community, and it is harder for him to act 
 independently now, on a subject which affects his stand- 
 ing in the estimation of his companions, than it will be 
 when he shall have passed on to a higher class, and shall 
 have influence in forming a public sentiment to act upon 
 others, instead of having others to form it for him. 
 
 The closing months of college life at last come on, 
 bringing with them less and less disposition to do his 
 duty. He has become familiarized to the idea of living 
 without God. His long and intimate acquaintance with 
 irreligious companions has bound him to them by ties 
 which he is not willing to sunder. Not ties of affection ; 
 for there ia seldom much confidence or love in such a 
 case. They are ties of mere acquaintance, mere com- 
 munity of sentiment and action. Yet he dreads to break
 
 Ch. 5.] ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 93 
 
 Jtesolutions for future life. The accepted time. 
 
 away from what gives him little pleasure, and is thus 
 bound by a mysterious and unreasonable, but almost 
 hopeless slavery. He leaves college either utterly con 
 firmed in insensibility to religious truth, or else when he 
 occasionally thinks of the subject, faintly hoping that 
 in the bustle of future life some more convenient season 
 may occur, which he may seize as a time for making his 
 peace with God. 
 
 This is the history of many a college student, and by 
 a slight change of the circumstances of the description, 
 it might be made the history of thousands of others iii 
 every walk of life. The secret of this procrastination is 
 this : The subject of it is deluded by the chimerical hope 
 of finding some opportunity of coming to God without 
 real submission, some way of changing sides on a most 
 momentous subject, without the mortification of chang- 
 ing, of getting right without the humiliating acknow- 
 ledgment of having been wrong. Now these difficulties, 
 which constitute the straitness of the gate through which 
 we must enter, cannot be avoided. "We cannot go round 
 them, we cannot climb up some other way, and it is 
 useless to wait for some other way to offer. The work 
 of coming directly and decidedly to our Maker, to con- 
 fess in and to ask his forgiveness, must be done. The pub- 
 lic acknowledgment that we have been wrong, which a 
 public change of conduct implies, must be made, and it 
 will be painful. Irreligious friends must, as intimates and 
 associates, be abandoned ; and whenever that is done it will 
 require an effort. These steps must be taken, and the 
 difficulty of taking them is increased, not diminished, by 
 the lapse of time. 
 
 My reader, is not the reason why you cannot repent of 
 sin and love God this, that you can never say, " I am 
 willing to do it now ?" Are you willing to be, from this 
 time, the servant and follower of Jehovah, or are you try- 
 ing the mad experiment of postponement and delay ?
 
 94 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6 
 
 Second cause. Love of the world. 
 
 II. Love of the World. This is the second of those 
 three secret obstacles to piety which I was to mention ; 
 I mean secret obstacles in the way of those who think 
 that they wish to be penitent, but that they cannot. I 
 am not now considering the causes which are operating 
 so extensively in chaining the great mass of mankind down 
 in their bondage to sin ; I speak only of those who feel 
 some interest in this subject, who think they desire sal- 
 vation, and are willing to do what God requires, but can- 
 not. Under this second head I am to endeavor to show 
 that many of my readers who are in this state of mind 
 are prevented from doing their duty by a secret love of 
 the world. I shall not however succeed in showing this, 
 unless you co-operate with me. If, while you read it, you 
 put yourself in an attitude of defence, you can easily set 
 aside what I have to say. I shall suppose however that 
 you really wish to know, and that you will apply what I 
 present, with impartiality and candor to yourselves. 
 
 In one sense, it is right to love the world. God has 
 made it for our enjoyment, and filled it with sources of 
 happiness for the very purpose of having us enjoy them. 
 We are to look upon it therefore as a scene in which 
 the Creator intended that we should be happy, and we 
 are to derive from it all the happiness that we can. 
 
 There are however temptations in this world, as all 
 will admit ; that is, pleasures which beckon us away 
 from duty. When a young person begins to think of re- 
 ligious duty, these pleasures which have perhaps long 
 been enjoyed come up to view, not very distinctly, but 
 still with so much effect as to blind the mind and har- 
 den the heart. Perhaps, my reader, you can think ot 
 some irreligious companion whom you know you must 
 give up if you become an open and decided Christian. 
 Even if you do not give up him, you expect that he 
 will give up you, if such a change should take place in 
 your character. Now although you do not distinctly
 
 Ch. 5.] ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 03 
 
 Sacrifices necessary. Third cause, 
 
 make a comparison between the pleasures of his society 
 on the one side, and the peace and happiness of religion 
 on the other, and after balancing their claims decide 
 against God and duty, although you make no formal 
 decision like this, yet the image of that friend, and the 
 recollection of the past pleasures of his society, and the 
 prospect of future enjoyment, come into your mind and 
 secretly hold you a prisoner. The chain is wound around 
 your heart, and its pressure is so gentle that you scarce- 
 ly perceive it. Still it holds you firmly, and until you 
 loosen the link, it will hold you. You do right while 
 you are in this state of mind to say that you cannot 
 love God. Our Savior says the same. " If any man 
 come to me and hate not," that is, is not cordially will- 
 ing to give up, if necessary, " his father and mother and 
 wife and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be 
 my disciple." You cannot be the disciple of Christ till 
 you are willing to give up the world in all its forms. 
 
 Perhaps it is not a friend which keeps you from the 
 Savior, but some other object. You may indulge your- 
 self in some practice which conscience secretly con- 
 demns. Perhaps there is a favorite amusement which 
 you must give up if you should become a consistent 
 Christian. You do not distinctly bring this up before 
 your mind, into formal comparison with the hope of a 
 happy immortality, and decide that it is superior. It in 
 sinuates itself into your mind, and shuts its avenues 
 against the light. You wonder that you do not see and 
 leel, and cannot discover the cause. 
 
 III. Fear of the world. Where love of the world binds 
 one soul in sin, the fear of it, in some form or other, 
 binds ten. Every one is surrounded by a circle of in- 
 fluence, it may be small or great, which is hostile to 
 piety. To take the attitude of a humble Christian in 
 the presence of this circle of acquaintances and friends, 
 to abandon your past course of conduct with the ac-
 
 96 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 5 
 
 Fear of the world. Difficulties foretold by the Savior 
 
 knowledgment that it has been entirely wrong, and tc 
 encounter the cold and forbidding, or perhaps scornful 
 looks of those whom you have been accustomed to call 
 your friends, all this is trying, You shrink from it. 
 You do not very distinctly take it into consideration, but 
 it operates with an influence the more unmanageable, 
 because it is unseen. My object in alluding to it here, 
 therefore, is to bring it out to view, that you may dis- 
 tinctly see it, and bring fairly up the question whether 
 you will be deterred by such a consideration from doing 
 your duty toward your Maker. 
 
 These three reasons are ordinarily the causes why 
 those who are almost Christians, do not become so al- 
 together. They are strong reasons. They hold a great 
 many individuals in lasting bondage, and they will pro- 
 bably continue to hold many of my readers in their 
 chains. It is no small thing, and, with hearts and ha- 
 bits like ours, it is no easy thing to become a Christian 
 The inquiry is not unfrequently made, why the preach- 
 ing of the Gospel in this world produces such partial 
 effects, and surprise is expressed that so few are found 
 to comply with its reasonable claims, and to respect its 
 awful sanctions. But when we look at those circum 
 stances in the case which exhibit the greatness of the 
 sacrifice which every man must make who really be- 
 comes a Christian in a world like this, we may rather 
 be surprised that so many are found to come to the Sa- 
 vior. 
 
 Jesus Christ foretold all these obstacles. He was very 
 frank and open in all his statements. He never has in- 
 tended to bring any one into unforeseen difficulties. He 
 stated very plainly what he expected of his followers ; 
 he described the sacrifices they must make to please 
 him, and the troubles they must endure ; and when he 
 left them at last, he told them plainly that if they should 
 persevere in his service after he was gone, they must
 
 Ch. 5.] ALMOST A CHKISTIAV. 97 
 
 Entire surrender required. Real submission. 
 
 go on expecting to suffer, to bleed and to die in this 
 cause. 
 
 " Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that 
 he hath, he cannot be my disciple." How strong an ex- 
 pression! What an entire surrender of the individuals 
 addressed does it require ! And yet he says, " my yoke 
 is easy and my burden is light." How is this ? Does 
 not the first declaration imply that the service of Christ 
 is a hard service? And does not the latter imply that it is 
 easy ? There are two classes of passages in the Scrip- 
 tures which seem, on this point, to speak a different lan- 
 guage. But the explanation is this : It is hard for you 
 to come to Jesus Christ. Worldly pleasures beckon you 
 away. Dangers and difficulties frown upon you, and above 
 all the rest, pride, pride, that most unconquerable of 
 enemies, stands erect and says you must not take the atti- 
 tude of a humble Christian. Now all these obstacles you 
 must overcome. The world must be relinquished ; the 
 claims of even father and mother, if they interfere with 
 duty to God, must give way ; the trials which in a life of 
 piety will await you, must be boldly encountered, and 
 pride must yield. But when this is done the surrender 
 once made all is happy ; the yoke is easy, and the bur- 
 den is light. If the heart is really submissive to God, if 
 its own affections have indeed been crucified, and if God 
 really reigns there, peace comes ; and peace and happi- 
 ness will really reign, unless returning pride and world- 
 liness renew the struggle. The government of God in the 
 soul is a government which regulates, but does not en- 
 slave ; it diffuses over the heart unmirigled peace and 
 happiness. 
 
 Let all then distinctly understand that there is no be- 
 coming a disciple of Jesus Christ without real submis- 
 sion, and submission is no pleasant work for human na- 
 ture to perform. It is hard for us to acknowledge that 
 we have been wrong; to bow to a power which we have 
 5
 
 tW YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Oil. &. 
 
 Changing sides. Addresi to a young man. 
 
 long opposed, and thus publicly and openly to change 
 sides on a subject which divides the world. But it must 
 be done. Enmity to God, or uncompromising submission 
 to his will, is the only alternative. 
 
 It is right that this should be the only alternative. Just 
 look at the facts. The Creator of all has proclaimed as 
 (he law of his empire, that all beings should love him su- 
 premely, and their fellows as themselves. We have al- 
 ways known that this was his law ; we know too that it 
 is reasonable in its nature, and most excellent in its ten 
 dency. No man can say that it is not exactly calculated 
 to diffuse universal happiness ; nor can any man deny 
 that its almost unceasing violation here has filled the 
 world with misery and crime. Now, excellent and rea- 
 sonable as this law is, there are millions in the human 
 family who have spent all their lives in the continued, un- 
 ceasing violation of it. They know that they never have, 
 for a single moment, loved God supremely, or loved 
 their neighbors as themselves. Now all of us who are, 
 or who have been in this state, have been plainly taking 
 fide against God* and against the general happiness. 
 We have been violating known duty, continuing in ac- 
 knowledged sin ; and the effect has not been confined to 
 ourselves ; the influence has extended. Our example has 
 been in favor of irreligion ; and as our sin has thus been 
 public, can we complain that God should require our ac- 
 knowledgment to be public too? No; submission to God 
 must be entire, unqualified, unreserved, or we cannot ex- 
 ptct God to receive it. 
 
 Dut let me be more particular. Perhaps some young 
 man who reads this is almost persuaded to be a Christian. 
 4Ie is still an irreligious man. I do not mean that he is op 
 posed to religion, but that he is without piety. Were I 
 to address such an one individually, I would say to him, 
 14 You, sir, are probably to remain twenty or thirty years 
 in the community of which you now form a part. These
 
 Ch. 5.] ALMOST A CHRISTIAN. 99 
 
 Good to be done. The unchristian parent. 
 
 years will be in the very prime of your ^ife. Your in- 
 fluence is now great ; it is increasing, and it must increase. 
 God has brought you into this sctme. Your original 
 powers and your education you owe to him. The habits 
 of industry and of integrity which you have acquired, 
 would not have been yours without his aid. He has held 
 you up and brought you forward ; and now, as the open- 
 ing prospects of usefulness and happiness lie before you, 
 he wishes you to come to him and to assist in the exe- 
 cution of his plans for the promotion of human happi- 
 ness. Will you come? There will be a great deal of 
 suffering which you can alleviate during the twenty years 
 that are before you, if you will set your heart upon al- 
 leviating suffering. There will be much vice which your 
 influence may prevent, if you will exert it aright. You 
 may be the means too of bringing many an unhappy sin- 
 ner to the Savior who died for him, if you will but come 
 and love that Savior yourself, and seek to promote his 
 cause." " But no," do you say ? " I have been, I acknow- 
 ledge, in the wrong, but I cannot bow to truth and duty, 
 and humble pride, abandon my ground, and stand be- 
 fore the world the acknowledged victim of folly and sin." 
 Then you cannot serve God. Unless you will do this, 
 you cannot be Christ's disciple. 
 
 Is there an unchristian parent who reads these pages 1 
 God has especial claims upon you in your family circle. 
 You are moulding the hearts of these children by your 
 influence, and the lineaments which your daily example 
 is calling forth here are probably to last. You arc do- 
 ing work for a very long futurity. You endeavor to pro- 
 mote the happiness of your children for this life, but God 
 wishes to make them happy forever, and he invites you 
 to come and co-operate with him in the noble design. 
 But you cannot co-operate with him until you join him. 
 If you have been against him thus far, you cannot join 
 him without submission. "But ah!" you say, "that
 
 100 TOtTIfO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 5 
 
 Submission hard. Tbe youth. 
 
 word submission ! It is hard to submit." I know it is 
 hard. For example, you have perhaps neglected family 
 prayer. You cannot be God's fnend and do your duty 
 fully till it is begun. You cannot join with him in pro- 
 moting the eternal happiness of your son or your daugh- 
 ter, till you are willing to make up your mind to bow be- 
 fore your Maker at the fireside altar for the first time, 
 And when you do it in a proper spirit, for the first time, 
 you acknowledge the guilt of past neglect, you take the 
 attitude of a humbled, altered man. This is submission, 
 and without it you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. 
 God asks you to do this, but his sole motive for asking 
 it is, probably, that he may make you a happy fellow- 
 worker with him. 
 
 Look at that youth, the favored object in the circle of 
 friends and companions in which he mores. His upright 
 character has commanded respect, and his amiable dispo- 
 sition has secured affection. His companions seek his so- 
 ciety they observe and imitate his example they catch 
 and adopt his opinions. He has never, now, said a word 
 againot religion. He complies respectfully with all its ex- 
 ternal observances, and in fine does all which he can do 
 without being personally humbled But how would he 
 shrink from having it whispered about in the circle in 
 which he moves, that he is anxious for the salvation of 
 Ins soul ! How unwilling would he be that it should be 
 known that he went to his pastor for personal religious 
 instruction, or that he had taken any step which should 
 admit before all that he had been himself, personally, a 
 guilty rebel against God, and that he wished to change 
 sides now, and do good as oper.ly and as publicly as he 
 had oefore done injury ! But O ! reflect ; you have taken 
 an open stand against God, and are you not willing to take 
 an open stand in his favor ? I know it is painful it is the 
 very crucifixion of the flesh ; but God cannot propose any 
 other terms than that those who have been open enemies
 
 Ch. 5] ALMOST A CHRISTIAN, 101 
 
 Submission necessary. Why it is so difficult to become a Christian 
 
 should become open friends, and no generous mind can 
 ask any easier conditions. 
 
 Indeed sometimes it has appeared to me, that if ano- 
 ther mode of entering the kingdom of heaven had been 
 proposed, we should see, ourselves, its impropriety.. 
 Suppose the Savior were to say to a sinner thus : " You 
 have been my enemy, I know. In the controversy which 
 has existed between God and his revolted subjects, you 
 have taken the wrong side. You have been known to be 
 without piety, and for many long years you have been 
 exerting an influence against God, and against the hap- 
 piness of the creation. But I am ready to forgive you, if 
 you will return to me now. And as publicly giving up in 
 such a controversy is always painful to the pride of the 
 human heart, I will excuse you from this. You may come 
 secretly and be my friend, to save yon the mortification 
 of publicly changing sides in a question on which your 
 opinions and your conduct have long been known." 
 
 To this, a spirit of any nobleness or generosity would 
 reply " If I have been in the wrong, and I freely acknow- 
 ledge that I have, I choose openly to avow it. My re- 
 cantation shall be known as extensively as my sin. I 
 will not come and make my peace secretly with God, and 
 leave my example to go on alluring, as it has done, 
 others to live in sia. If pride remonstrates, I will cut it 
 <lown ; and if my comrades deride my change, I will bear 
 their reproaches. They cannot injure me as much as my 
 ungodly example and influence has injured them." 
 
 Whether however the sinner sees the necessity of his 
 being really humbled before he is forgiven, or not Gotl 
 gees it every holy being sees it ; and JehovalVs determi- 
 nation is fixed. We must submit, or we cannot be par- 
 
 dovicd 
 
 DC you not now, my reader, see what is the reason 
 why you cannot be a Christian? You say you wish to, 
 but cannot, and in nine out of ten of such cases the dif-
 
 102 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 5. 
 
 The jailor's submission. Subject dismissed. 
 
 ficulty is, you are not cordially willing to give up all to 
 God. Pride is not yet humbled, or the world is not yet 
 surrendered, and until it is, you cannot expect peace. 
 You know you have been wrong and you wish now to 
 be right ; but this cannot be without an open change, 
 and this you shrink from. The jailor who came trem- 
 bling to know what he must do to be saved, was told to 
 repent and be baptized immediately. How humiliating ! 
 to appear the next morning a spectacle to the whole 
 community, a stern public officer bowed down to sub- 
 mission through the influence of the very prisoners 
 committed to his charge. Yet he was willing to encoun- 
 ter it. And you if you can just consent to yield to 
 yield every thing throw down every weapon, and give 
 up every refuge, and come now to the Savior, bearing 
 your cross that is, bringing life, and reputation, and all 
 you hold dear, and placing it at his supreme disposal, 
 you may depend upon forgiveness and peace. But while 
 your heart is full of reservations, while the world re- 
 tains its hold and pride is unsubdued, and you are thus 
 unwilling openly and decidedly to take the right side, is 
 it unjust or unkind in God to consider you as upon the 
 wrong one? Far be it from me to advocate ostentation 
 in piety. The humble retiring Christian, who communes 
 with his own heart and with God, is in the best road to 
 growth in grace, and to usefulness ; but every one 
 ought to be willing, and, if he is really penitent, will be 
 willing, that the part he takes in this great question 
 should be known. 
 
 I now dismiss this subject, not to resume it again in this 
 volume. Knowing, as I did, that there would undoubt- 
 edly be many among the readers of this book who can 
 only be called almost Christians, I could not avoid de- 
 voting a chapter or two to them. I have now explained 
 as distinctly as I have been able to do it, the submission 
 of the heart which is necessary in becoming a Christian,
 
 Ch. 6.] DIFFICULTIES IN IlELIGION. lOo 
 
 Perplexities. Difficulties in Religion 
 
 and what are the difficulties in the way. I should evince 
 but a slight knowledge of the human heart if I were not 
 to expect that many who read this will still remain only 
 almost Christians. I must here, however, take my final 
 leave of them, and invite the others those who arc 
 willing now cordially to take the Savior as their portion, 
 to go on with me through the remaining chapters of the 
 book, which I shall devote entirely to those who are al- 
 together Christians, 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 
 ' The secret things belong unto the Lord our God. 
 
 The Young Christian, conscientiously desiring to know 
 and to -do his duty, is, at the outset of his course, per- 
 plexed by a multitude of difficulties which are more or 
 Jess remotely -connected with the subject of religion, and 
 which will arise to his view. These difficulties in many 
 cases cannot be removed. The embarrassing perplexity, 
 however, which arises from them, always can, and it is 
 to this subject that I wish to devote the present chapter. 
 Mv plan will be in the first place to endeavor thoroughly 
 to convince all who read it, that difficulties must be ex- 
 pected difficulties too which they cannot entirely sur- 
 mount ; and in the second place to explain and illustrate 
 the spirit with which they must be met. 
 
 It is characteristic of the human mind not to be will- 
 ing to wait long in suspense^ on any question presented 
 to it for decison. When any new question or new sub- 
 ject comes before us, we grasp hastily at the little infor- 
 mation in regard to it within our immediate reach, and
 
 104 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 0. 
 
 Mistake*. Story of the Chinese and the map 
 
 then hurry to a decision. We are not often willing to 
 wait to consider whether the subject is fairly within the 
 grasp of our powers, and whether all the facts which 
 are important to a proper consideration of it are before 
 us. We decide at once. It is not pleasant to be in sus- 
 pense. Suspense implies ignorance, and to admit igno 
 ranee, is humiliating. 
 
 Hence most persons have a settled belief upon almost 
 every question which has been brought before them. In 
 expressing their opinions they mention things which they 
 believe, and things 'which they do not believe ; but very few 
 people have a third class of questions which they ac- 
 knowledge to be beyond their grasp, so that in regard to 
 them they can neither believe nor disbelieve, but must re- 
 main in suspense. Now this is the secret of nine-tenths 
 of the difference of opinion, and of the sharp disputes by 
 which this world is made so noisy a scene. Men jump at 
 conclusions before they distinctly understand the pre- 
 mises, and as each one sees only a part of what he 
 ought to see before forming his opinion, it is not sur- 
 prising that each should see a different part, and should 
 consequently be led to different results. They then fall 
 into a dispute, each presenting his own partial view, and 
 shutting his eyes lo that exhibited by his opponent. 
 
 Some of the mistakes which men thus fall into are 
 melancholy; others only ludicrous. Some European 
 traveler showed a map of the world to a Chinese philo- 
 sopher. The philosopher looked at it a few moments, 
 and then turned with proud and haughty look and said 
 to the by-standers, " This map is entirely wrong ; the 
 English know nothing of geography. They have got 
 China out upon one side of the world, whereas it is, in 
 fact, exactly in the middle." 
 
 Multitudes of amusing stories are related by travellers 
 of the mistakes and misconceptions and false reasonings 
 of semi-barbarous people, about the subjects of European
 
 t3h. 6.] DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 105 
 
 Difficulties in ail subjett*. Astronomical difficulties 
 
 science and philosophy. They go to reasoning at once, 
 and fall into the grossest errors but still they have much 
 more confidence in their silly speculations, than in any 
 evidence which their minds are capable of receiving. 
 
 But you will perhaps ask me whether I mean to com- 
 pare the readers of this book with such savages. Yes; 
 the human mind, in its tendencies, is every where the 
 same. The truths which relate to the world of spirits 
 are, to us, what European science is to a South Sea Isl- 
 ander. Our minds experience the same difficulty in grasp- 
 ing them, and we hurry to the same wild speculations and 
 false conclusions, 
 
 It is not surprising that the truths contained in a reve- 
 lation from heaven should be beyond our grasp. We 
 cannot even fairly grasp the truths relating to the mere 
 physical motions of this earth. We know, for instance> 
 that the distinction downward is only toward the earth, 
 Now let your imagination extend half round the globe. 
 Think of the people who are standing upon it, exactly 
 opposite to ourselves, and try to realize that downward 
 is toward the earth there. You believe it, I know ; but 
 can you, in the expressive pi.rasc of children, make it 
 seem so ? 
 
 Again you know, if you believe that the earth revolves, 
 that the room you arc in, revolves with it, and that con- 
 sequently it was, six hours ago, in a position the reverse 
 of what it now is, so that the floor was in a direction 
 corresponding to that of the walls now. Now can you, 
 by any mental effort, realize this ? Or will you acknow- 
 ledge that even this simple astronomical subject is beyond 
 your grasp? 
 
 Once more. Suppose the earth, and sun, and stars 
 were all annihilated, and one small ball existed alone in 
 space. You can imagine this state of things for a mo* 
 rnent. Now there would be, as you well know, if you 
 have the slightest aslronomical knowledge, no down o 
 
 5*
 
 106 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6 
 
 Difficulties in religion to be expected. Difficulties described. 
 
 up in such case, for there would be no central body to 
 attract. ^iuw when you fancy this ba?l, thus floating in 
 mpty space, can you realize that there would be no ten- 
 dency in it to move in one direction rather than another ? 
 You may believe, on authority, that it would not move, 
 but fix your mind upon it for a moment, and then look off 
 from it, first in one direction, then in another, until you 
 have looked in every direction, and can you make all these 
 seem the same ? No, we cannot divest ourselves of the 
 impression that one of these is more properly up, and the 
 other more properly down, though the slightest astrono- 
 mical knowledge will convince us that this impression is 
 a mere delusion. Even this simple and unquestionable 
 truth is beyond the grasp of the human mind, at least un- 
 f .il after it has, by very long contemplation on such sub- 
 jects, divested itself of the prejudices of the senses. 
 
 Is it surprising then, that when a revelation comes to 
 us from a world which is entirely unseen and unknown, 
 describing to us in some degree God's character and the 
 principles of his government, there should be many tilings 
 in it which we cannot now understand ? No. There are, 
 and from the nature of the case must be, a thousand dif- 
 ficulties insuperable to us at present. Now if we do not 
 cordially feel and admit this, we shall waste much time 
 in needless perplexity. My object, in this chapter, is to 
 convince all who read it, that they must expect to find dif- 
 ficulties, insuperable difficulties in the various aspects of 
 religious truth, and to try to persuade you to admit this, 
 and to repose quietly in acknowledged ignorance, in those 
 cases where the human mind cannot know. The difficul- 
 ties are never questions of practical duty, and sometimes 
 arc very remotely connected with any religious truth. 
 Some of them I shall however describe, not with the de- 
 sign of explaining them, because I purposely collect such 
 as I believe cannot be explained satisfactorily to young 
 persons, but with the design of bringing all cordially to
 
 Ch. 6.] DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 107 
 
 First difficulty. Attempt to avoid it 
 
 feel that they must be ignorant, and that they may as well 
 acknowledge their ignorance at or.ce. 
 
 First difficulty. It is a common opinion that God ex- 
 isted before the creation of the world, alone and unem- 
 ployed from eternity. Now the difficulty is this : Ho(v 
 could a being who was infinite in benevolence and power 
 waste all that time, when it might have been employed 
 in making millions and millions happy ? The creation 
 was not far from six thousand years ago, and six thou- 
 sand years, compared with the eternity beyond, are no- 
 thing. So that it follows that almost the whole of the 
 existence of a benevolent and omnipotent Being, who de- 
 lights in doing good and promoting happiness, has been 
 spent in doing nothing. 
 
 Perhaps some one will make a feeble effort to escape 
 from the difficulty by supposing, what is very probably 
 true, that other worlds were created long before this. 
 But let such an one consider, that however remote the first 
 creation may have been, there is beyond it, so far as we 
 can see, an eternity of solitude and inaction. 
 
 Remember I say, so far as we can sec, for I am far 
 from believing that Jehovah has ever wasted time. I know 
 nothing about it ; I can see and reason just far enough to 
 perceive that the whole subject is beyond my grasp, and 
 I leave it, contented not to know, and not to pretend to 
 know any thing about it. 
 
 After reading these remarks at one time to an assem- 
 bly of young persons, several of them gathered aroun'I 
 me, and attempted to show that there was in fact no diffi 
 culty in this first case. 
 
 u Why," said I, " what explanation have you ?" 
 
 " I think," was the reply, " that God might have been 
 creating worlds from all eternity, and thus never have 
 been unemployed." 
 
 " If that had been the case," replied I, " would or would 
 not some one of these worlds have been eternal ?" 
 
 ' Yr., sir," th^vall answered witli one voice.
 
 108 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6 
 
 Conversation. Second difficulty 
 
 " Then you suppose that some of these worlds were 
 eternal and others not. The first which were created had 
 no beginning ; but after a time, according to this hypo- 
 thesis, Jehovah began to create them at definite periods. 
 This is evidently absurd. Beside, those which were eter- 
 nal must have existed as long as God has existed; and if 
 you admit that, it seems that you must admit that they 
 are independent of God ; for if they have existed forever, 
 they could not have been created." 
 
 One of the party, attempted to avoid this by saying, 
 that though the whole scries of creations has been eternal, 
 yet that every particular creation may have been at some 
 definite point of time ; so that each one world has had but 
 a limited existence, though the whole series has been 
 eternal. 
 
 "But," said I, " can you conceive clearly conceive 
 of an eternal series of creations of matter, without be- 
 lieving that some matter itself is eternal? And if you 
 suppose matter itself to be eternal, can you understand 
 how God can have created that which has existed as long 
 as he has himself?" 
 
 This was the substance of the conversation, which 
 however, in all its details, occupied half an hour. And I 
 believe all who engaged in it cordially acknowledged that 
 the whole subject was entirely beyond the grasp of their 
 minds. 
 
 As this book may fall into the hands of some theologi- 
 cal scholar, I beg that he will bear in mind that I do not 
 present this subject as one that would perplex him, but 
 as one which must perplex the young. I maintain that 
 whatever trained metaphysicians may understand, or 
 fancy that they can understand, it is entirely beyond the 
 teach of such minds as those for whom this book is in- 
 tended. 
 
 Second difficulty. When in a still and cloudless sum- 
 mer evening you have looked among the stars of the sky,
 
 Ch. C.] DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION 109 
 
 Extent of the creation. A star, a great blazing sun 
 
 you have often wondered at the almost boundless extent 
 of the creation. That faint star winch twinkles so feebly 
 that you almost fear that the next gentle breeze will ex- 
 tinguish it, or that the next light cloud will sweep it away, 
 has burned with the same feeble but inextinguishable 
 beam ever since the creation. The sun has blazed around 
 the heavens storms have agitated and wrecked the 
 skies the moon has waxed and waned over it ; but it 
 burns on the same. It may be obscured by some com- 
 motion of the elements for a time ; but when cloud and 
 storm have passed away, you will find it shining on un- 
 changed, in the same place, and with the same brightness, 
 and with precisely the same hue which it exhibited before 
 the flood. 
 
 It is a great blazing sun, burning at its immense dis- 
 tance with inconceivable brightness and glory, probably 
 surrounded by many worlds whose millions of inhabit- 
 ants are cheered by its rays. Now, as you all well know, 
 every star which twinkles in the sky, and thousands 01 
 others which the telescope alone brings to view, are pro- 
 bably thus surrounded by life and intelligence and hap- 
 piness in ten thousand forms. Stand now in a summer 
 evening under the open sky, and with these views esti- 
 mate as largely as you please the extent of the creation. 
 However widely you may in imagination expand ils boun- 
 daries, still it seems to human reason that it must have a 
 limit. Now go with me in imagination to that limit. Let 
 us take our station at the remotest star, and look upon 
 the one side into the regions which God has filled with 
 intelligence and happiness ; and on the other sitle into 
 the far wider regions of gloomy darkness and solitude 
 that lie beyond. Make the circle of the habitable uni- 
 verse as large as you will how much more extensive, 
 according to any ideas of space which we can form, must 
 be the dreary waste beyond ! The regions which God 
 has filled by his efforts and plans dwindle to a little fer-
 
 110 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 
 
 ThirJ difficulty. Existence of suffering 
 
 tile island in the midst of a boundless ocean. But why 
 is this? Who can explain or understand how a Being, 
 boundless in power and desirous of promoting the great- 
 est possible amount of enjoyment, can leave so immense 
 a portion unoccupied, and confine all his efforts to a re* 
 gion which, though immense to our conceptions, is, after 
 all, but a little spot, a mere point, compared with the 
 boundless expanse around? 
 
 Now, I by no means believe that there is such an im- 
 mense void as my reasoning seems to prove there must 
 be. My object is to show that in these subjects which are 
 beyond our grasp, we may reason plausibly, and only 
 plunge ourselves in difficulties without end. Therefore 
 on such subjects I distrust all reasoning. I never reason, 
 except for the purpose of showing how utterly the sub- 
 ject is beyond our grasp; and in regard to such questions, 
 I have no opinion ; I believe nothing, and disbelieve 
 nothing. 
 
 Third difficulty. The existence of suffering. It seems 
 to me that the human mind is utterly incapable of ex- 
 plaining how suffering can find its way into any world 
 which is under the control of a benevolent and an om- 
 nipotent God. If he is benevolent, he will desire to avoid 
 all suffering; and if he is omnipotent, he will be able to do 
 it. Now this reasoning seems to be a perfect moral de- 
 monstration ; no person can reply 4o it. Some one may 
 faintly say, that the suffering we witness is the means of 
 producing a higher general good ; and then I have only 
 to ask, But why could not an omnipotent Being secure 
 the higher good without the suffering? And it is a ques- 
 tion which it seems to me no man can answer. The only 
 rational course which we can take is to say, sincerely and 
 cordially, we do not know. We are just commencing our 
 existence, just beginning to think and to rrason about 
 our Creator's plans, and we must expect to find hundreds 
 of subjects which we cannot understand.
 
 Cll. 6.J DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 1J1 
 
 The existence of suffering inexplicable. The pirate condemned to die. 
 
 Fourth difficulty. Human accountability. Instead of 
 calling this a difficulty, I ought to call it a cluster of diffi- 
 culties ; for unanswerable questions may be raised without 
 end out of this subject. 
 
 Look at yonder gloomy procession. In the cart there 
 sits a man who has been convicted of piracy and murder 
 upon the high seas, and he is condemned to die. Now 
 that man was taught from his youth to be a robber and 
 a murderer ; he was trained up to blood ; conscience did 
 doubtless remonstrate ; there was a law written on his 
 heart which condemned him ; but he was urged on by his 
 companions, and perhaps by his very father, to stifle its 
 voice. Had he been born and brought up in a Christian 
 land with a kind Christian parent, and surrounded by the 
 influences of the Bible, and the church, and the Sabbath 
 school, he would undoubtedly never have committed the 
 deed. Shall he then be executed for a crime which, had 
 he been in our circumstances, he would not have com- 
 mitted ; and which his very judge perhaps would have 
 been guilty of, had he been exposed to the temptations 
 which overwhelmed the prisoner? 
 
 In a multitude of books on metaphysics, the following 
 train of reasoning is presented. The human mind, as it 
 comes from the hand of the Creator, is endued with cer- 
 tain susceptibilities to be affected by external objects. For 
 instance, an injury awakens resentment in every mind. 
 The heart is so constituted, that when the youngest child 
 receives an injury which it can understand, a feeling of 
 resentment comes up in his breast. It need not have 
 been so. We might unquestionably have been so formed 
 that mere compassion for the guilt of the individual who 
 had inflicted it, or a simple desire to remove the suffering, 
 or any other feeling whatever, might rise. But God de- 
 cider, when he formed our minds, what should be their 
 tendencies. 
 
 He has not only decided upon the constitutional ten-
 
 112 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 
 
 Accountability. Foreknowledge 
 
 dencies of the mind, but has arranged all the circumstances 
 to which each individual is to be exposed; and these, so 
 far as we can see, constitute the whole which affects the 
 formation of chacacter the original tendencies and the 
 circumstances of life by which they are developed or re- 
 strained. God has therefore the whole control in the 
 formation of the character of every individual. 
 
 This seems, at least to a great many minds, perfect 
 demonstration ; there is no evading it ; and it brings us 
 at once to that greatest of all questions in physics or me- 
 taphysics, in the whole circle of human inquiry a ques- 
 tion which has caused more disputes, destroyed more 
 Christian peace of mind, given rise to more vain systems 
 formed by philosophical attempts to evade the difficulty, 
 than almost any other question whatever : How can man 
 be accountable, when God has had such entire control in 
 the formation of his character? 
 
 1 know that some among my readers will think that I 
 make the difficulty greater than it is. They will think 
 they can see much to lighten it, and will perhips deny 
 some of my assumptions. Of such an o*ne I would sim- 
 ply ask, were he before me after having heard all he 
 should have to say on the subject "Can you, sir, after 
 all, honestly say that you understand, clearly understand, 
 how man can be fully accountable, and yet his heart be 
 as much under divine control as you suppose it is ? Eve- 
 ry honest man will acknowledge that he is often, in hia 
 thoughts on this subject, lost in perplexity, and forced to 
 admit the narrow limit of the human powers. 
 
 But again. No one denies that God foreknows perfect- 
 ly every thing that happens. Now suppose a father were 
 to say to his child, " My son, you are going to a scene of 
 temptation to-day, you will be exposed to some injury, 
 and will be in danger of using some harsh and resentful 
 words. Now I wish you to be careful. Bear injury pa- 
 tiently, and do not use opprobrious language in return.'*
 
 Cll. 6.] DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 113 
 
 Story of father and son. God foreknows all things. 
 
 All this would be very well ; but suppose that in addi- 
 tion the father were to say, " My son, I have contrived 
 to ascertain what you -will say, and I have written here 
 upon this paper every word you will utter to-day." 
 
 " Every word you think 1 shall speak, you mean," 
 says the boy. 
 
 "No," says the father, "every word you will speak; 
 they are all written exactly. I have by some mysterious 
 means ascertained them, and here they are. And it is 
 absolutely certain that you will speak every thing which 
 is written here, and not a syllable beside." 
 
 Could any boy after such a statement, go away believ- 
 ing what his father had said, and yet feeling that he him- 
 self could be, notwithstanding, free to act and speak that 
 day as he pleased ?* 
 
 Now God knows, as all will acknowledge, every thing 
 which will take place, just as certainly as if it were writ- 
 ten. The mere fact of expressing it in language wouM 
 make no difference. We may consider our future con- 
 duct to be as clearly known, and as certain, as if our his- 
 tories were minutely written ; and where is the man (with 
 perhaps the exception of a few who have made metaphy- 
 sical philosophy a study for years) who will not acknow- 
 ledge that this truth, which nobody will deny, throws a 
 little perplexity over his mind when he looks at that 
 boundless moral freedom and entire accountability which 
 the Bible and human consciousness both attribute to man. 
 
 * Let it he remembered that I am writing for Iheyoung, and am enu- 
 merating difficulties insuperable to them. A mind long accustomed to 
 the accuracy of metaphysical inquiries will see that the antecedent 
 certainty of any act proves only the greatness of th-? intellect which 
 can foresee it. it has nothing to do with the freedom of the moral 
 agent by which it is performed. If any one supposes that there is no 
 great difficulty for the young in this subject, let him try to convince an 
 intelligent boy, that, under such circumstances as are above described, 
 he could be free to speak gently or angrily, solely according to his 
 own fres will.
 
 114 YOCNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6. 
 
 Imaginary conversation with an Infidel. Sixth difficulty. 
 
 Fifth difficulty. It is common to prove the existence 
 of God from his works in the following manner : We see 
 created objects ; they must have had a cause, for nothing 
 can arise out of nothing. There must have been, there- 
 fore, some great first cause, which we call God. 
 
 Now this reasoning is very plausible ; but suppose the 
 infidel to whom you present it should say, " But what 
 brought God into existence?" 
 
 You answer, " He is uncaused." 
 
 " Very well," he replies, " then he came from nothing; 
 eo that it seems something can come from nothing." 
 
 " No," you reply, " he existed from eternity." 
 
 '* And I suppose," replies the Atheist, " that the world 
 has existed uncaused from all eternity ; and why is not my 
 supposition as good as yours ? There are no more marks 
 of design in the structure of this earth, than there are in 
 the nicely balanced and adjusted powers and attributes of 
 Jehovah." 
 
 Now this does not shake my confidence in the being 
 of a God. Notwithstanding the difficulty of reasoning with 
 an infidel who is determined not to be convinced, the 
 proofs from marks of design are conclusive to every un- 
 biassed mind. We know there is a God every man knows 
 there is; though they who are resolved to break his laws, 
 sometimes vainly seek shelter in a denial of his existence : 
 like the foolish child who, when at midnight the thunder- 
 storm rages in the skies, buries his face in his pillow, 
 nnd fancies that he finds protection from the forked light- 
 ning by just shutting his eyes to its glare. No ; it only 
 shakes my confidence in all abstract reasonings upon sub- 
 jects which are beyond my grasp. 
 
 Sixth difficulty. How can God really answer prayer 
 without in fact miraculously interrupting the course of 
 nature? That God does answer prayer by an exertion of 
 his power in cases to which human influence does not 
 reach, seems evident from the following passage : "The
 
 Ch. G.j DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 115 
 
 Answering prayer. Cane supposed. 
 
 effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth 
 much. Elias was a man subject to like passions as we 
 are, and he prayed earnestly that it might not rain, and 
 it rained not on the earth by the space of three years and 
 six months. And he prayed again, and the heaven gave 
 rain, and the earth brought forth her fruit." James, 5:16, 
 17, 18. Now if the natural effect of prayer as an exer- 
 cise of the heart were all, this illustration would be alto- 
 gether inappropriate. It must teach that the prayers of 
 men will have an influence with Jehovah, so that he shall 
 order, differently from what he otherwise would do, 
 events beyond human control. Now how can this in fact 
 be done without a miracle? A miracle is nothing more 
 than an interruption of the ordinary course of nature. 
 Now if the ordinary course of nature would in any case 
 bring us what we ask, it is plain we do not owe it to God's 
 answering prayer. If the regular course of nature would 
 not bring it, then it seems that God cannot grant the 
 request without interrupting more or less that course, 
 and this is a miracle. This reasoning appears simple 
 enough, and it is difficult to see how the conclusion can 
 be avoided. 
 
 But to make the point plainer, let me suppose a case. 
 A mother, whose son is sick in a foreign port, asks for 
 prayers in a seaman's chapel, that he may be restored to 
 health and returned in safety. The young man is per- 
 haps ten thousand miles from home. The prayer can 
 have no power to put in operation any earthly cause 
 which can reach him. If it reaches him at all, it must bo 
 through the medium of the Creator. 
 
 Now we are compelled to believe, if we believe the 
 Bible, that the prayer will in all ordinary cases have an 
 influence. The efficacy of prayer, in such cases as this, 
 is so universally taught in the Bible, that we cannot doubt 
 it and yet retain that volume as our guide. But how can 
 God answer this prayer without, in reality, interfering
 
 116 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 5 
 
 The sick son. Miraculous interference in answering prayer. 
 
 miraculously with the laws of nature? If the young man 
 would have recovered without it, then his restoration 
 cannot very honestly be said to be in answer to prayer. 
 If he recovers, when, without the prayer, he would have 
 died, then it seems very plain that God must interfere 
 somewhere to interrupt what would have been the ordi- 
 nary course of nature; he must arrest supernaturally 
 the progress of the disease, or give to medicine an effi- 
 cacy which, without his special interference, it would 
 not have possessed ; or suggest to his physician a course 
 of treatment which the ordinary laws of thought would 
 not have presented to his mind; either of which, accord- 
 ing to any philosophical definition, is a miracle. 
 
 Now undoubtedly God, in some secret way that we 
 cannot now understand, can, without disturbing the laws 
 of nature, grant our requests. The difficulty is merely 
 one to our limited powers; but to these powers it is in- 
 surmountable. 
 
 I might go on with such an enumeration to an inde 
 finite length; but I have, I hope, already brought up 
 points enough ; and let my reader remember that it is 
 not necessary for my purpose, that he should admit that 
 all these questions arc beyond the grasp of his mind. It 
 is enough for my present object, that each one will admit 
 that some of them arc. One will say that he can under- 
 Bland the subject of God's answering prayer ; another 
 will think there is no difficulty in regard to God's fore- 
 knowledge of human actions ; and thus every reader will 
 perhaps find some one of these which he thinks he un- 
 derstands. But will not all acknowledge that there are 
 Borne which he cannot understand? If so, he will cor- 
 dially fi>el that there are subjects connected with import- 
 ant religious truth, which are beyond the grasp of the 
 human mind, and this conviction is what I have been 
 endeavoring to establish. 
 
 The real difficulties which I have brought to view in the
 
 Ch. 6.] DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 117 
 
 Sources of difficulty. Algebra. The surd 
 
 preceding pages are few. They are only brought up 
 again and again in different forms, that they might be 
 more clearly seen. Eternal duration ; infinite space; the 
 nature of moral agency; these are the fountains of per- 
 plexity from which, in various way*, I have drawn in this 
 chapter. They are subjects which the human mind can- 
 not grasp, and they involve in difficulty every proposi- 
 tion of which they form an element. You may remove 
 the difficulty from one part of the ground to the other, 
 you may conceal it by sophistry, you may obscure it by 
 declamation ; but, after all that you have done, it will re- 
 main a difficulty still, and the acute and candid mind will 
 see its true character through all the forms in which you 
 may attempt to disguise it. The disputes and the theo- 
 rizing with which the theological world is filled on the 
 subject of moral agency for example, the vain attempts 
 to form some philosophical theory which will explain the 
 subject, remind me of the labors of a school-boy endeavor' 
 ing to solve an equation containing one irrational term, 
 He transposes the troublesome surd from one side to the 
 other, he multiplies and divides it, he adds to it and 
 subtracts from it, he tries involution and evolution upon 
 * it ; but, notwithstanding every metamorphosis, it remains 
 a surd still ; and though he may have lost sight of it him- 
 self by throwing it into some complicated multinomial 
 expression, the practised mathematician will see, by a 
 glance of the eye, that an insuperable difficulty is there. 
 So these great moral subjects contain intrinsic and in- 
 surmountable difficulties, which it is most philosophical to 
 acknowledge, not to deny or conceal. We ought to be 
 willing to remain in a measure ignorant on such subjects, 
 if we can only distinctly know our duty. It is indeed best 
 in ordinary cases to look into the subject, to examine it 
 carefully, so as to find where the difficulty is see what 
 firm ground we have all around it, and let. the region of 
 uncertainty and ignorance be circumscribed by a definite
 
 1 18 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6. 
 
 Distinction between theoretical and practical difficulties. 
 
 boundary. But when this is done, look calmly upon the 
 surface of the deep which you know you cannot sound, 
 and acknowledge the limit of your powers with a humble 
 and quiet spirit. 
 
 In order to avoid that mental anxiety which the con- 
 templation of insurmountable difficulty is calculated to 
 awaken, it is well to make a broad and constant distinc- 
 tion between a theoretical and practical question. The 
 inquiry what duty is, is in every case a practical question. 
 The principles upon which that duty is required form of- 
 ten a mere question of theory into which it is of no im- 
 portance that we should enter. Shall the Sabbath com- 
 mence on Saturday evening or on Sunday morning ? 
 That is a practical difficulty. Your decision of it will af- 
 fect your practice at once. "Why did God appoint one 
 day in seven, rather than one in six, or one in eight, for 
 holy time ?" That is just as plainly theoretical. Now al- 
 most every question relating to the reasons which influ- 
 ence the Creator in his dealings with men every one in 
 regard to the essence of his character, the constitution of 
 man as a moral being, and the ground of his obligations 
 to God, the principles by which the magnitude and the 
 duration of future punishments are fixed these are all 
 theoretical questions. If we believe the p-lain declara- 
 tions of the Bible in regard to ll\e facts on these sub- 
 jects, those facts will indeed influence our conduct, but 
 we may safely leave the theory to Him who has the re- 
 sponsibility of reigning in the universe. 
 
 Take for instance the question of future punishment. 
 There is a great deal of speculation on what ought and 
 what ought not to be done with impenitent sinners who 
 continue in sin during their period of probation. But 
 what reasonable man, who will reflect a moment, can ima- 
 gine that any human mind can take in such a view of 
 God's administration as to enable it really to grasp this 
 question ( What powers can comprehend so fully the na
 
 Ch. 6.] DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 119 
 
 Punishment of the enemies of God. Scripture difficulties. 
 
 ture and the consequences of sin and punishment, not 
 for a few years only, but forever ; and not upon a few 
 minds only, but upon the universe, as to be able to form 
 any opinion at all in regard to the course which the 
 Supreme ought to take in the punishment of sin ? Why, 
 the noisy, riotous tenants of a crowded jail-room are far 
 more capable of discussing the principles of penal juris- 
 prudence than we are of forming any opinion, upon ab- 
 stract grounds, of the proper extent and duration of future 
 punishment. The jailor would say to his prisoners, if 
 they remonstrated with him on the severity of their sen- 
 tence, " The law decides this question ; we have nothing 
 to do with it; the law will be executed." And so, if a man 
 should attempt to reason with me, to prove, on abstract 
 grounds, that eternal or that limited punishment is the just 
 one; might I not say to him, " Sir, why do you perplex 
 me with the question of the punishment of the enemies of 
 God? I have not that punishment to assign. God says that 
 the wicked shall go away into everlasting punishment. Ho 
 has decided. I cannot stand on the eminence which ho 
 occupies, and see what led him to this decision. My only 
 duty is to believe what he says, and to escape as swiftly 
 as I can to the refuge from that storm." 
 
 Nine tenths of the difficulties which beset the paths 
 of young Christians would be avoided by such a spirit 
 as this by our taking God's decisions, and spending 
 our strength in performing the practical duties which 
 arise from them, and leaving the grounds of those de- 
 cisions with him. 
 
 This principle may be applied in a multitude of cases 
 in which Scripture declarations are a ground of doubt 
 and difficulty to Christians. " Work out your own sal- 
 vation with fear and trembling, for it is God that worketh 
 in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure." So 
 far as this text is considered in its practical aspects, 
 how plain and simple it is ; and yet how easy to lose
 
 120 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6. 
 
 Comparative power of God and man in the human heart. 
 
 ourselves in the theoretical speculations to which it may 
 give rise. The duties it requires, are plain and simple. 
 Make effort yourself with patient fidelity, but feel at the 
 same time a humble sense of your dependence upon 
 God. The theory i;pon which these two duties are found- 
 ed is lost in obscurity which the human mind cannot 
 penetrate. 
 
 The words " work out," &.c. seem to imply that the 
 power necessary to change the heart rests with man, 
 whils the latter part of the verse, " for it is God," &c. 
 seems to attribute it to God. How is this ? what degree 
 of agency has man himself in the production of those 
 holy feelings which the Bible represents as necessary to 
 salvation, and what part devolves upon the Creator? 
 This is a question which, as has been already remarked, 
 has come up in a thousand forms. It has been the foun- 
 dation of many a captious cavil, as well as of many an 
 honest doubt. If the Bible had taught us that man 
 alone had power over his conduct, so as to be entirely 
 independent of an over-ruling hand, we could understand 
 it. Or if it had maintained that God reigned in the hu- 
 man heart, and controlled its emotions and feelings to 
 such an extent as to free man from the responsibility, 
 this too would be plain. But it takes neither of these 
 grounds. In some passages it plainly teaches us that all 
 the responsibility of human conduct rests upon the indi- 
 vidual being who exhibits it. In other places we are in- 
 formed that the great God is supreme in the moral as in 
 the material world, and that he turns the hearts of men 
 as surely and as easily as the rivers of water. And these 
 two truths, so perplexing to philosophy, are brought, by 
 a moral daring- for which the Bible is remarkable, direct- 
 ly side by side in the passage before us. There is no 
 softening of language to obscure the distinctness of the 
 difficulty there are no terms of limitation to bring it 
 in within narrow bounds there is no interpretation to
 
 Ch. 6.] DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 121 
 
 Difficulty theoretical. None in practice. 
 
 explain, no qualifications to modify. But it stands fair 
 and legible, and unalterable, upon the pages of the word 
 of God, saying to us in language which we cannot mis- 
 understand you must make active and earnest efforts 
 yourselves in the pursuit of holiness and you must 
 still submit to the power that rules in your heart, and 
 look for assistance to God, who works in you to will 
 and to do, 
 
 It ought however to be said again and again, that the 
 difficulty is not a practical, but a theoretical one. There 
 is no difficulty in making the efforts required by the for- 
 mer part of the passage, and at the same time in feeling 
 the dependence on God required in the latter. The dif- 
 ficulty is in understanding the principle upon which the 
 two are founded. It seems to me that this is a very fun- 
 damental point. Persons seeking, or thinking that they 
 are seeking to enter the kingdom of heaven, are often 
 encumbered with these very difficulties. They cannot 
 understand the comparative influence which God and 
 man have over the human heart, and hence they remain 
 at a stand, not knowing what to do. They forget that 
 the difficulty, great as it is, is one of speculation, not of 
 action, and therefore they ought not to waste a thought 
 upon it, until at least they have made peace with God. 
 Two separate duties are required. We can understand 
 them well enough and they are not inconsistent with 
 each other. Exert yourselves to the utmost in seeking 
 salvation. What difficulty is there in this? Place all 
 your hope of success in God. What difficulty is there 
 in this ? And what difficulty is there in making exertion 
 ourselves, and feeling reliance on God at the same time? 
 There is none. It has been done a thousand times. It 
 is doing by thousands now. It can be done by all. But 
 we cannot understand, it may be said, the principle 
 upon which these two duties are enjoined. True, we 
 cannot understand it. The theory is involved in dark- 
 
 6
 
 122 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6. 
 
 Objects of this chapter. 1. Inquirers. Disobedient school-boy. 
 
 ness ; in which any who choose may easily lose them- 
 selves. But the duties are plain. God has enjoined 
 them, and, as dutiful children, we ought to feel that if 
 he clearly tells us what we are to do, he may properly 
 conceal in many cases the reasons of his requirements. 
 
 There are three or four very common evils, which, by 
 taking up the subject of this chapter so formally, I have 
 been wishing to remove. I will mention them. 
 
 1. The useless perplexity of religious inquirers. A 
 young person, perhaps one of my readers, is almost per- 
 suaded to be a Christian. You reflect upon your lost con- 
 dition as a sinner, and feel desolate and unhappy. You 
 think of God's goodness to you, and are half inclined to 
 come to him. Instead, however, of thinking only of your 
 duty, and spending all your strength in resisting tempta- 
 tion, and in commencing a life of practical piety, you im- 
 mediately sieze upon some theoretical difficulty connect- 
 ed with theology and trouble yourself about that. Per- 
 haps you cannot understand how God influences the hu- 
 man heart, or how man can be accountable if the Holy 
 Spirit alone sanctifies. "How can I work out my own 
 salvation," you say, "if it is God who worketh in me to 
 will and to do?" Or perhaps you perplex your head 
 about the magnitude or duration of future punishment, 
 or the number who will be saved, as though the admi- 
 nistration of Jehovah's government would come upon your 
 shoulders if you became a Christian, and you must there- 
 fore understand thoroughly its principles before you in- 
 cur such a responsibility. How absurd ! Can you not 
 trust God to manage his own empire, at least until after 
 you have come yourself fully over to his side ? 
 
 Suppose a child were t.o show a disobedient and rebel- 
 lious spirit in school, and should be called upon by his 
 teacher to reform, and should, after pausing a moment, 
 begin to say, " I ought to conduct differently, I know, and
 
 CH. 6.] DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGIOfr. 123 
 
 Present duty neglected by speculating on what may never take place. 
 
 I think seriously of returning to my duty. But there are 
 some things about it which I do not understand." 
 
 " What things ?" says the teacher. 
 
 " Why," says the boy, "I do not see what I should do 
 if you and my father were to command me to do oppo- 
 site things. I do not clearly understand whom I ought 
 to obey." 
 
 " Do you not know," replies 'he teacher, " that you now 
 disobey me in cases where your father and myself both 
 wish you to obey ? Come and do your duty in these. 
 You have nothing to do with such a question as you men- 
 tion. Come and do your duty." 
 
 " But," says the boy, " there is another great difficul- 
 ty, which I never could understand. Suppose my father 
 or you should command me to do something wrong ; then 
 I should be bound to obey my father, and also bound not 
 to do what is wrong. Now I cannot understand what I 
 ought to do in such a case." 
 
 Thus he goes on. Instead of returning immediately to 
 the right path, becoming a dutiful son and a docile pupil 
 at once, in the thousand plain cases which are every day 
 occurring, he looks every way in search of difficulties 
 with which he hopes to perplex his teacher and excuse 
 his neglect of duty. 
 
 Speculating inquirer, are you not doing the same ? 
 when it is most plainly your duty to begin to love God 
 and serve him at once in the thousand plain instances 
 which occur daily, instead of doing it with all your heart, 
 trusting in God that he will do right, do you not search 
 through the whole administration of his government for 
 fancied difficulties difficulties to your feeble powers 
 feeble originally, but rendered feebler still by your con- 
 tinuance in sin ? With these difficulties you embarrass 
 yourself, and strive to perplex your minister, or your 
 Sabbath school teacher, or your parent, and thus find a 
 momentary respite from the reproaches of a wounded
 
 i4 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6. 
 
 2. Perplexitici of Christians. Way to avoid them. 
 
 spirit by carrying the war away from your own conscience, 
 which is the proper field, into your pastor's or your pa- 
 rent's intellect. While the argument is going on here, 
 your sense of guilt subsides, conscience is seared, and you 
 fall back to coldness and hardness of heart. Now why 
 will you thus waste your time and your moral strength 
 on questions in regard to which you have no responsibil- 
 ity, instead of walking in the plain path of duty, which 
 lies open before you ? 
 
 2. Useless perplexities of a Christian. In bringing 
 op to view so plainly the insuperable difficulties con- 
 nected with religious truth, I have been hoping to divert 
 the minds of experienced Christians from being perplexed 
 and embarrassed by them. Ouce make up your mind, 
 full/ and cordially, that there are depths which the 
 sounding line of your intellect will not reach, and yon 
 will repose in the co.nviction that you do not jnd cannot 
 now know, with a peace of mind which you cannot in 
 any other way secure. How many persons pei-plex them- 
 selves again and again, and go on perplexing themselves 
 all through life in fruitless endeavors to understand tho- 
 roughly the precise and exact relation which Jesus Christ 
 bears to the Father. The Bible gives us, clearly, and in 
 simple and definite language, all about the Savior which 
 it is of practical importance for us to know. The Word 
 was God, and the Word became fiesh, or man. Now just 
 be willing to stop here. " But no," says some one who 
 loves his Savior, and wishes to understand his character, 
 " I want to have clear ideas on this subject ; I want to 
 know precisely what relation he sustained to the Father 
 before he became man. Was he in all respects identical? 
 or was he a different being, or a different person ; and 
 what is the difference between a person and a being? 
 When he became man, I want to know precisely how the 
 two natures came together." 
 
 "You want to know; but how will you ascertain?
 
 Cll. 6.] DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 1$5 
 
 Plausible reasoning sometimes unsafe. Scnolars in Geometry. 
 
 Does the Bible tell you? It tells you that your Savior 
 was God, and that he became man. If you rest upon the 
 Bible, you must stop here. Will you trust to your own 
 speculations ? Will you build up inferences upon what 
 the Bible states ; and think, if you are cautious in your 
 reasoning, you can be safe in your conclusions? You 
 cannot be safe in your conclusions. No mind can be 
 trusted a moment to draw conclusions from well esta- 
 blished premises on a subject which it does not fully 
 grasp, 
 
 If you doubt this, just make the fallowing experiment. 
 Undertake to teach the elements of geometry to a class 
 of intelligent young people ; and as they go on from 
 truth to truth, lead them into conversation, induce them 
 to apply the active energies of their minds to the subject, 
 in reasoning themselves from the truths which their text- 
 book explains, and you will soon be convinced how far 
 the human mind can be trusted in its inferences on a 
 subject which is beyond its grasp. Your pupils will 
 bring you apparent contradictions, arising, as they think 
 they can show, from the truths established ; and will de- 
 monstrate, most satisfactorily to themselves, the most ab- 
 surd propositions. In one case, an intelligent scholar in 
 a class in college attempted to demonstrate the absurdity 
 of the famous forty-seventh. He drew his diagram, and 
 wrote out his demonstration, and showed it to his class; 
 find it was long before any of them could detect the fal- 
 lacy. The mathematical reader will understand this, and 
 all may understand, that, in this case, the pupil made out 
 a chain of reasoning perfectly satisfactory to his own 
 mind, which however led to absurdity and falsehood. 
 
 You say, perhaps, " Well, this was because he had 
 just begun the study; he knew scarcely any thing about 
 it. Such mistakes would only be made by the merest 
 beginners." 
 
 That is exactly what I wish you to say ; and to admit
 
 128 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6 
 
 Drawing inferences. Story of the knights and the statue. 
 
 the same thing in regard to ourselves, as students of reli- 
 gious truth. We are mere beginners ; we know almost 
 nothing of such subjects as God, eternity, and the consti- 
 tution of mind. The moment therefore we leave the 
 plain propositions of the Bible, which are all that are ne- 
 cessary for us to understand, and go to drawing infe- 
 rences, we involve ourselves in absurdity and falsehood, 
 no matter how directly and inevitably our inferences 
 seem to follow. Whenever I hear a man attempting to 
 prove, from the nature of the case, that the Word could 
 not have been God, and afterward have become flesh, 
 or that God cannot reign in the heart, as the Bible says 
 he does, and yet leave man free and accountable, I al- 
 ways think of the college sophomore endeavoring by his 
 own blundering reasoning to upset the proposition of 
 Pythagoras. 
 
 These subjects, which are too difficult in their very 
 nature for our powers, are the source of very many of 
 the unhappy controversies which agitate the church. The 
 mind is not capable of grasping fully the whole truth. 
 Each side seizes a part, and, building its own inferences 
 upon these partial premises, they soon find that their 
 own opinions come into collision with those of their 
 neighbors. 
 
 Moralists tell the following story, which very happily 
 illustrates this species of controversy : In the days of 
 knight errantry, when individual adventurers rode about 
 the world, seeking employment in their profession, which 
 was that of the sword, two strong and warlike knights, 
 coming from opposite directions, met each other at a 
 place where a statue was erected. On the arm of the sta- 
 tue was a shield, one side of which was of iron, the other 
 of brass, and as our two heroes reined up their steeds, 
 the statue was upon the side of the road, between them, 
 in such a manner that the shield presented its surface of 
 brass to the one, and of iron to the other. They imme-
 
 Ch. 6.] DIFFICULTIES IN RELIGION. 127 
 
 The shield of brass and iron. One kind of controversy 
 
 diately fell into conversation in regard to the structure 
 before them, when one, incidentally alluding to the iron 
 shield, the other corrected him, by remarking that it was 
 of brass. The knight upon the iron side of course did 
 not receive the correction : he maintained that he was 
 right ; and, after carrying on the controversy for a short 
 time by harsh language, they gradually grew angry, and 
 soon drew their swords. A long and furious combat en- 
 sued ; and when at last both were exhausted, unhorsed, 
 and lying wounded upon the ground, they found that the 
 whole cause of their trouble was, that they could not see 
 both sides of a shield at a time. 
 
 Now religious truth is sometimes such a shield, with 
 various aspects, and the human mind cannot clearly see 
 all at a time. Two Christian knights, clad in strong 
 armor, come up to some such subject as moral agency, 
 and view it from opposite stations. One looks at the 
 power which man has over his heart, and, laying his 
 foundation there, he builds up his theory upon that 
 alone. Another looks upon the divine power in the hu- 
 man heart, and, laying his own separate foundation, 
 builds up his theory. The human mind is incapable, in 
 fact, of grasping the subject of understanding how man 
 an be free and accountable, and yet be so much under 
 the control of God as the Bible represents. Our Chris- 
 tian soldiers, however, do not consider this. Each takes 
 his own view, and carries it out so far as to interfere 
 with that of the other. They converse about it they 
 talk more and more warmly then a long controversy en- 
 sues if the)' have influence over others, their dispute 
 agitates the church, and divides brethren from brethren. 
 And why ? Why, just because our Creator has so form- 
 ed us that we cannot, from one point of view, see both 
 sides of the shield at the same time. The combatants, 
 after a long battle, are both unhorsed and wounded ,
 
 128 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6. 
 
 Difficulties of children. Children's question*. 
 
 their usefulness and their Christian character is injured 
 or destroyed. 
 
 Now what is the true course for us to take in regard 
 to such a subject? Simply this. Look at our depen- 
 dence on God for a change of heart and for the exercise 
 of right feeling, just as the Bible presents this subject, 
 and go cordially and fully just as far as the Bible goes, 
 which is a great way. Fix in your heart that feeling ol 
 dependence and humility which this view is calculated 
 to give. Then look at the other aspect of this subject, 
 the active power of man, and go here just as far as the 
 Bible goes, and carefully learn the lesson of diligence 
 which it teaches. Suppose you cannot find where the 
 two come together, be willing to be ignorant of a theory 
 which God has not revealed. 
 
 It has been my design in presenting this subject, to 
 convince Christians that they cannot understand every 
 thing connected with Christian theology, and to try to 
 induce them to repose willingly and peacefully in a 
 sense of ignorance fully realized and frankly acknow- 
 ledged. 
 
 3. Difficulties of children. I have discussed this sub 
 ject too with direct reference to children, for the sake 
 of trying to guard you against two faults. One is, com- 
 ing to your parents or teachers with questions, and ex- 
 pecting that they can in all cases give a satisfactory an- 
 swer. They cannot. They do not know. The wisest 
 parent, the highest intellect, is incapable of answering the 
 questions which the youngest child can ask in regard to 
 the truths of Christianity. Do not expect it then. You 
 may ask questions freely, but when the answers are not 
 perfectly satisfactory to you, consider the subject as be- 
 yond the grasp of your present powers. Be satisfied if 
 you can understand the principles of duty, and spend your 
 moral strength in endeavoring to be as faithful as possible 
 there.
 
 Ch. 6.] DIFFICULTIES IN CHRISTIANITY. 139 
 
 Difficulties of parents and teachers. The school-boy's question. 
 
 There is one other suggestion which I wish to make 
 to you. When you carry questions or difficulties of any 
 kind to your parents or teachers, be very careful to be 
 actuated by a sincere desire to learn, instead of coming 
 as young persons very often do, with a secret desire to 
 display their own acuteness and discrimination in seeing 
 the difficulty. How often have young persons brought 
 questions to me, when it has been perfecly evident that 
 their whole object was not to be taught, but to show me 
 their own shrewdness and dexterity. They listen in such 
 cases to what I say, not to be taught by it, but to think 
 what they can reply to it, and bring objection upon ob- 
 jection with a spirit which refuses to be satisfied. Be 
 careful to avoid this. Ask for the sake of learning-. Lis- 
 ten with a predisposition to be satisfied with the answer, 
 and never enter into argument, and take your side, and 
 dispute with your parent or your teacher, with a view to 
 show your dexterity. If you have this spirit and exer- 
 cise it, an intelligent parent will always detect it. 
 
 4. Dijfictf'eifs of parents and teachers, I wish fo 
 have this discussion the means of helping parents and 
 teachers, and older brothers and sisters, out of one of 
 their most common difficulties I mean, that of answer- 
 ing questions brought to ihem by the young. Learn to 
 say, " I do not know." If you really will learn to say 
 this frankly and openly, it will help you out of a vast 
 many troubles. 
 
 You are a Sabbath school teacher, I will imagine. A 
 bright looking boy, whose vanity has been fanned by flat- 
 tery, says to you before his class, 
 
 " There is one thing in the lesson I do not understand. 
 It says God made the earth first, and afterward the 
 sun. Now the sun stands still, and the earth and all the 
 olanets move round it. It seems to me, therefore, that 
 ne would have been more likely to have created the sun 
 
 6* '
 
 130 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6. 
 
 Pride in asking questions. Importance of a humble spirit. 
 
 first, for that is the largest and is in the middle, and after- 
 ward the planets." 
 
 As he says this, you see a half smile of self-complacency 
 upon his countenance as he looks round upon his class- 
 mates, to observe how they receive this astonishing dis- 
 play of youthful acumen. If now you attempt any ex- 
 planation, he does not follow you with any desire to have 
 the difficulty removed. He either is absorbed in think- 
 ing how shrewdly he discovered and expressed the diffi- 
 culty, or else, if he listens to your reply, it is to find some- 
 thing in it upon which he can hang a new question, or 
 prolong the difficulty. He feels a sort of pride in not 
 having his question easily answered. He cannot be in- 
 structed while in this state of mind. 
 
 " What then would you say to a boy in such a case ?" 
 you will ask. 
 
 I would say this to him : " I do not understand that 
 very well myself. I know nothing about the creation 
 but what that chapter tells me. You can think about it, 
 and perhaps some explanation will occur to you. In the 
 mean time it is not very necessary for us to know. It is 
 not necessary for you to understand exactly how God 
 made the world, in order to enable you to be a good boy 
 next week." 
 
 And thus universally I would inculcate the importance 
 of a humble, docile spirit, which will disarm every theo- 
 retical difficulty of its power to perplex us, or to disturb 
 our peace.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 " God who at sundry times and in divers manners, spake in tims 
 past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath, in these last dajs, spoken 
 unto os by his Son." 
 
 The first inquiry which meets us in entering upon the 
 consideration of tins subject is, " What sort of evidence 
 are we to expect?" The only proper answer is, that 
 sort of evidence which men require to produce convic- 
 tion and to control the conduct in other cases. The hu- 
 man mind is so constituted that men are governed by a 
 certain kind and degree of evidence in all the concerns 
 of life a kind and a degree which is adapted to the cir- 
 cumstances in which we are placed here. This evidence, 
 however, almost always falls very far short of demon- 
 stration, or absolute certainty. Still it is enough to con- 
 trol the conduct. By the influence of it a man will em- 
 balk in the most momentous enterprises, and he is often 
 induced by it to abandon his most favorite plans. Still 
 it is very far short of demonstration, or absolute certain- 
 ty. For example, a merchant receives in his counting- 
 room a newspaper which marks the prices of some spe- 
 cies of goods at a foreign port as very high. He imme- 
 diately determines to purchase a quantity, and to send a 
 cargo there ; but suppose, as he is making arrangements 
 for this purpose, his clerk should say to him, " Perhaps 
 this information may not be correct. The correspondent 
 of the editor may have made a false statement for some 
 fraudulent purpose, or the communication may have been 
 forged ; or some evil-minded person having the article in 
 question for sale, may have contrived by stealth to alter 
 the types, so as to cause the paper to make a false report, 
 at least in some of the copies."
 
 132 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch ? 
 
 The doubting clerk. The unexpected letter. 
 
 Now in such a case would the merchant be influenced 
 in the slightest degree by such a sceptical spirit as this? 
 Would he attempt to reply to these suppositions, and to 
 show that the channel of communication between the dis- 
 tant port and his own counting-room could not have been 
 broken in upon by fraud somewhere in its course, so as 
 to bring a false statement to him ? He could not show 
 this. His only reply must be, if he should reply at 
 all, " The evidence of this printed sheet is not perfect 
 demonstration, but it is just such evidence in kind and 
 degree as I act upon in all my business ; and it is enough. 
 Were I to pause with the spirit of your present objec- 
 tions, and refuse to act whenever such doubts as those 
 you have presented might be entertained, I might close 
 my business at once, and spend life in inaction. 1 could 
 not, in one case in ten thousand, get the evidence which 
 would satisfy such a spirit." 
 
 Again : You are a parent, I suppose ; you have a son 
 traveling at a distance from home, and you receive some 
 day a letter from the post-office in a strange hand-writing, 
 and signed by a name you have never heard, informing 
 you that your son has been taken sick at one of the vil- 
 lages on his route, and that he is lying dangerously ill at 
 the house of the writer, and has requested that his father 
 might be informed of his condition and urged to come 
 and see him before he dies. 
 
 Where now is the father who in such a case would say 
 to himself, " Stop, this may be a deception ; some one 
 may have forged this letter to impose upon me. Before 
 I take this journey I must write to some responsible man 
 in that village to ascertain the facts." 
 
 No ; instead of looking with suspicion upon the letter, 
 scrutinizing it carefully to find marks of counterfeiting, 
 lie would not even read it a second time. As soon as he 
 had caught a glimpse of its contents, he would throw it 
 hastily aside, and urging the arrangements for his depar-
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY 133 
 
 The sick child. Men act from reasonable evidence. 
 
 ture to the utmost, he would hasten away, saying, " Let 
 me go as soon as possible to my dying son." 
 
 I will state one more case, though perhaps it is so evi- 
 dent, upon a moment's reflection, that men do not wait for 
 perfect certainty in the evidence upon which they act, 
 that I have already stated too many. 
 
 Your child is sick, and as he lies tossing in a burning 
 fever on his bed, the physician comes in to visit him. He 
 looks for a few minutes at the patient, examines the 
 symptoms, and then hastily writes an almost illegible 
 prescription, whose irregular and abbreviated characters 
 are entirely unintelligible to all but professional eyes. 
 You give this prescription to a messenger perhaps to 
 some one whom you do not know and he carries it to 
 the apothecary, who, from the indiscriminate multitude 
 of jars, and drawers, and boxes, filled with every powerful 
 medicine, and corroding acid, and deadly poison, selects 
 a little here and a little there, with which, talking per- 
 haps all the time to those around him, he compounds a 
 remedy for your son. The messenger brings it to the 
 sick chamber, and as he puts it into your hands, do you 
 think of stopping to consider the possibility of a mis- 
 take ? How easily might the physician, by substituting 
 one barbarous Latin name for another, or by making one 
 little character too few or too many, have so altered the 
 ingredients, or the proportions of the mixture, as to con- 
 vert that which waS intended to be a remedy, to an active 
 and fatal poison. How easily might the apothecary, by 
 using the wrong weight, or mistaking one white powder 
 for another precisely similar in appearance, or by giving 
 your messenger the parcel intended for another customer, 
 send you, not a remedy which would allay the fever and 
 bring repose to the restless child, but an irritating sti- 
 mulus, which should urge on to double fury the raging 
 of the disease, or terminate it at once by sudden death. 
 
 How possible are these, but who stops to consider
 
 134 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Evidences of Christianity, historical, internal and experimental. 
 
 them ? How absurd would it be to consider them ! You 
 administer the remedy with unhesitating confidence, and 
 in a few days the returning health of your child shows 
 that it is wise for you to act, even in cases of life and 
 death, on reasonable evidence, without waiting for the 
 absolute certainty of moral demonstration. 
 
 Now this is exactly the case with the subject of the 
 Christian religion. It comes purporting to be a message 
 from heaven, and it brings with it just such a kind of 
 evidence as men act upon in all their other concerns. 
 The evidence is abundant ; at the same time, however, 
 any one who dislikes the truths or the requirements of 
 this Gospel, may easily, like the sceptical clerk in the 
 case above mentioned, make objections and difficulties 
 innumerable. A man may be an infidel if he pleases. 
 There is no such irresistible weight of argument that the 
 mind is absolutely forced to admit it, as it is to believe 
 that two and three make five. In regard to this latter 
 truth, such is the nature of the human mind, that there 
 is not, and there cannot be an individual who can doubt 
 it. In regard to Christianity however, as with all other 
 truths of a moral nature which regulate the moral con- 
 duct of mankind, there is no such irresistible evidence. 
 The light is clear, if a man is willing' to sec ; but it is 
 not so vividly intense as to force itself through his eye- 
 lids, if he chooses to close them. Any one may walk in 
 darkness if he will. 
 
 The evidences of Christianity are usually considered 
 as of two kinds, historical and internal. There may 
 properly be added a third, which I shall call experi- 
 mental. These three kinds are entirely distinct in their 
 nature. 
 
 1. If we look back upon the history of Christianity, 
 we find it was introduced into the world under very re- 
 markable circumstances. Miracles were performed, and
 
 Ch. 7.J EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 136 
 
 Illustration. The Phosphorus. 
 
 future events foretold, in attestation of its divine origin, 
 and the founder was restored to life after being crucified 
 by his enemies. These, with the various circumstances 
 connected with them, constitute the historical evidence 
 of Christianity. 
 
 2. If now we examine the book itself, its truths, its 
 doctrines, its spirit, we find that it is exactly such in its 
 nature and tendency as we should expect a message from 
 Jehovah to such beings as we, would be. This is the 
 internal evidence. 
 
 3. And if we look upon the effects which the Bible pro- 
 duces all around us upon the guilt and misery of society, 
 wherever it is faithfully and properly applied, we find 
 it efficient for the purposes for which it was sent. It 
 comes to cure the diseases of sin and it does cure them. 
 It is intended to lead men to abandon vice and crime, 
 and to bring them to God and it does bring them by 
 hundreds and thousands. If we make the experiment 
 with it, we find that it succeeds in accomplishing its ob- 
 jects. This we may call the experimental evidence. 
 
 These three kinds of evidence are so entirely distinct 
 in" their nature, that they apply to other subjects. You 
 have a substance which you suppose is phosphorus. For 
 what reason? Why, in the first place, a boy in whom 
 you place confidence brought it for you from the che- 
 mist's, who said it was phosphorus. This is the histori- 
 cal evidence : it relates to the history of the article be- 
 fore it came into your possession. In the second place, 
 you examine it, and it looks like phosphorus. Its color, 
 consistence and form all agree. This is internal evi- 
 dence : it results from internal examination. In the third 
 place, you try it. It burns with a most bright and vivid 
 flame. This last may be called experimental evidence ; 
 and it ought to be noticed that this last is the best of the 
 three. No matter what grounds of doubt and hesitation 
 there may be in regard to (he first and second kinds of
 
 136 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Historical Evidence. The Seal. 
 
 evidence, if the article simply proves its properties on 
 trial. If any one should say to you, " I have some rea- 
 son to suspect that your messenger was not honest; he 
 may have brought something else ;" or " This does not 
 look exactly like real phosphorus ; it is too dark or too 
 hard ;" your reply would be, " Sir, there can be no pos- 
 sible doubt of it. Just see how it burns !" 
 
 Just so with the evidences of Christianity. It is 
 interesting to look into the historical evidences that it 
 is a revelation from heaven, and to contemplate also the 
 internal indications of its origin ; but after all, the great 
 evidence on which it is best for Christians, especially 
 young Christians, to rely for the divine authority of the 
 Bible, is its present universal and irresistible power in 
 changing character, and saving from suffering and sin. 
 
 I. HISTORICAL EVIDENCE. 
 
 If the Creator should intend to send a communication 
 of his will to his creatures, we might have supposed that 
 he would, at the time of his making it, accompany the 
 revelation with something or other which should be a 
 proof that it really came from him. Monarchs have al- 
 ways had some way of authenticating their communica- 
 tions with their subjects, or with distant officers. This 
 is the origin of the use of seals. The monarch at home 
 possesses a seal of a peculiar character. When he sends 
 any communication to a distance, he impresses this seal 
 upon the wax connected with the parchment upon which 
 the letter is written. This gives it authority. No one else 
 possessing such a seal, it is plain that no one can give the 
 impression of it, and a seal of this kind is very difficult 
 to be counterfeited. Various other devices have been re- 
 sorted to by persons in authority to authenticate their 
 communications. 
 
 In the same manner we must have expected that Jeho-
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 137 
 
 Miracles. Examining witnesses. 
 
 vah, when he sends a message to men, will have some 
 way of convincing us that it really comes from him. 
 There are so many bad men in the world who are willing 
 to deceive mankind, that we could not possibly tell, 
 when a pretended revelation comes to us, whether it was 
 really a revelation from heaven or a design of wicked 
 men, unless God should set some marks upon it, or ac- 
 company it with some indications which bad men could 
 not imitate. 
 
 The Bible professes to have been accompanied by such 
 marks. They are the power of working miracles and fore- 
 telling future events, possessed by those who brought 
 the various messages it contains. It is plain that man, 
 without divine assistance, could have had no such power. 
 If this power then really accompanied those who were 
 the instruments of introducing" the Christian religion in- 
 to the world, we may safely conclude that it was given 
 them by God, and as he would never give this power to 
 sanction imposture, the message brought must be from 
 him. 
 
 The way then to ascertain whether these miracles wer 
 actually performed, is like that of ascertaining all other 
 matters of fact, by calling upon those who witnessed them 
 for their testimony. 
 
 The manner in which these witnesses are to be exa- 
 mined, is similar to that pursued in ordinary courts of 
 justice. It is similar, I mean, in its principles, not in its 
 forms. I know of nothing which shows more convincing- 
 ly the satisfactory nature of this evidence, than a compa- 
 rison of it with that usually relied on in courts of justice. 
 In order to exhibit the former then distinctly, I shall 
 minutely describe the course pursued, and to make my 
 description more definite, I shall select a particular case. 
 
 I was once Avalking in the streets of a large city, in 
 which I was a stranger, looking around for some striking 
 exhibitions of human character or efforts, when I saw se-
 
 138 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 The court. The courtroom. The prisoner. 
 
 veral persons, of apparently low rank in life, standing be- 
 fore the door of what was apparently some public building. 
 I thought it was probably a court-house, and that these 
 were the men who had been called as witnesses, and that 
 they were waiting for their turn to testify. As courts 
 are always open to the public, I concluded to go in and 
 hear some of the causes. I walked up the steps and en- 
 tered a spacious hall, and at the foot of a flight of stairs 
 saw a little painted sign, saying that the court-room was 
 above. I passed up and pushed open the light baize door, 
 which admitted me to the room itself. 
 
 At the end at which I entered there were two rows of 
 seats, one row on each side of an aisle which led up through 
 the centre. Th>ese seats seemed to be for spectators ; for 
 those on one side were nearly filled with women, and those 
 on the other by men. I advanced up the aisle until I 
 nearly reached the centre of the room, and then took my 
 seat among the spectators, where I could distinctly hear 
 and see all that passed. Before me, at the farther end 
 of the room, sat the judge, in a sort of desk on an eleva- 
 ted platform, and in front of him was another desk, 
 lower, which was occupied by the clerk, whose business 
 it was to make a record of all the causes that were tried. 
 There was an area in front of the judge, in which were 
 seats for the various lawyers ; and in boxes at the sides 
 were seats for the jury, who were to hear the evidence, 
 and decide what facts were proved. On one side of the 
 room was a door made of iron grating, with sharp points 
 upon the top, which led, I supposed, to an apartment 
 where the prisoners were kept. 
 
 Not long after I had taken my seat, the clerk said that 
 the next cause was the trial of O. B. for housebreaking. 
 The judge commanded an officer to bring the prisoner 
 into court. The officer went to the iron door I have 
 described, unlocked it, and brought out of the room 
 into which it opened, a prisoner ; he looked guilty
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 139 
 
 IIi. accusation and trial. Testimony of the owner. 
 
 and ashamed ; his face was pale not as though he was 
 afraid, but as if his constitution had been impaired by 
 vice. They brought him into the middle of the room, 
 and placed him in a sort of pew with high sides, and 
 shut him in. He leaned against the front of it, looked 
 at the judge, and began to listen to his trial. 
 
 The clerk read the accusation. It was, that he had 
 broken open an unoccupied house once or twice, and 
 taken from it articles belonging to the owner of the 
 house. The judge asked him if he pleaded guilty, or not 
 guilty. He said, not guilty. The judge then asked the 
 jury at the side to listen to the evidence, so that they 
 might be prepared to decide whether this man did break 
 open the house or not. 
 
 Men, not accustomed to speak in public assemblies, 
 could not easily give their testimony in such a case, so 
 that it would be fully understood on all the important 
 points. In fact, very few know fully what the important 
 points are. Hence it is proper that there should be law- 
 yers present, who can ask questions, and thus examine 
 the witnesses in such a manner as to bring out fully all 
 the facts in the case. There is one lawyer appointed by 
 the government, whose business it is to bring to view 
 all the facts which indicate the prisoner's guilt ; and ano- 
 ther appointed by the prisoner, who takes care that no 
 thing is omitted or lost sight of which tends to show his 
 innocence. When the prisoner has not appointed any 
 counsel, the judge appoints some one for him ; this wae 
 done in the case before us. 
 
 The first witness called was the owner of the house, 
 It is necessary that ea<:h witness should be a man of 
 good character, and that he should testify only to what 
 he saw or heard. No one is permitted to tell what some 
 one else told him ; for stories are very likely to be alter- 
 ed in repetition ; so that, even in a complicated case, each 
 man goes only so far as his own personal knowledge ex-
 
 140 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Testimony of the watchman. Lawyer's question. Watchman's story. 
 
 tends. And, in order to be sure that the jury shall have 
 his own story, he is obliged to come personally into 
 court, and tell the story in presence of all. The owner 
 of this house was probably a man of business ; and a 
 great deal of valuable time would have been saved if he 
 had been permitted to write down his account and send 
 it in.. But no ; every witness, where it is possible, must 
 actually come into court and present his evidence with 
 his own voice. This remark it is important to remem- 
 ber, as the principle will come to view when we consi- 
 der the other case. 
 
 The witness testified, that he owned a certain house ; 
 that he moved out of it, and locked it up, leaving some 
 articles in an upper chamber ; that one day he went in 
 and found that the house had been entered, I believe by 
 a window, and that the chamber-door had been broken 
 open, and some of the articles taken away. He said that 
 he then employed a watchman to sleep in the house, and 
 to try to catch the thief. 
 
 Here he had to stop ; for, although he knew how the 
 watchman succeeded, he was not permitted to tell, for he 
 did not see it. No man testifies except to what he has 
 seen or heard. 
 
 The watchman was next called. The lawyer for the 
 government asked him, 
 
 " Were you employed by the owner of this house to 
 watch for a thief in it ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " What did he tell you when he engaged you?" 
 
 " He told me that his house had been broken open, 
 and he wished me to watch for the thief." 
 
 "Did you do it?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well, relate to the jury what occurred that night." 
 
 "I watched several nights. For some nights nothing 
 occurred. All was quiet till morning.'*
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 141 
 
 The Prisoner convicted. Points secured on trial 
 
 " In what room did you stay ?" 
 
 " In the room under the chamber from which the arti- 
 cles had been stolen." 
 
 " Well, go on with your account." 
 
 " At last, on the 15th of June, as I was then watching, 
 about three o'clock in the morning I heard a noise. Some 
 one was coming softly up stairs. He went up into the 
 room over my head, and after remaining a few minutes 
 there, he began to come down. I immediately went out 
 into the entry and seized him. and took him to the watch- 
 house. The next morning he was put in prison." 
 
 The lawyer then pointed to the prisoner at the bar, and 
 asked if that was the man. The witness said it was. 
 
 The judge then asked the counsel for the prisoner 
 if he had any questions to ask, and he did ask one or 
 two, but they were not material. The jury then consult- 
 ed together, and all agreed that the prisoner was proved 
 guilty ; and the judge ordered him to be sent back to the 
 prison till he should determine what punishment must be 
 assigned. 
 
 This is substantially the way in which all trials are. 
 conducted. Three or four points are considered very 
 necessary. 1. That the witnesses should be of good cha- 
 racter. . 2. That they should have actually witnessed 
 what they describe. And, 3. That the precise account 
 which they themselves give, should come into court. 
 These points the judge or the lawyers secure. The lat- 
 ter they obtain by having the witness himself always 
 come, if it is possible, even if he has to leave most im- 
 portant business for this purpose. If from sickness, or 
 any other similar cause, he cannot come, his testimony is 
 taken down in writing and signed by himself, and that 
 paper, the very one which he signed, must be brought 
 into court and read there. This is called a deposition. 
 The second point is secured by not allowing any man 
 to. go any farther in his testimony than he himself isaw
 
 142 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Three points to be attended to. Irruption of the barbarians 
 
 or heard. So that sometimes, when the case is compli- 
 cated, a very large number of witnesses are called before 
 the whole case is presented to the jury. The first point 
 they secure by inquiring into the character of the wit- 
 nesses. If any man can be proved to be unworthy of 
 credit, his testimony is set aside. 
 
 Now all these points must be looked at in examining 
 the evidence of the Christian miracles. I alter the ar- 
 rangement, however, placing them now in the order in 
 which it is most convenient to examine them. 
 
 1. We must ascertain that we have the exact account 
 given by the witnesses themselves. 
 
 2. We must ascertain that they had distinct opportuni- 
 ties to witness what they describe. 
 
 3. We must have evidence that they are credible ; 
 that is, that they are honest men, and that their word 
 can be relied upon. 
 
 These three points I shall examine in order in refer- 
 ence to the Christian miracles. The witnesses are the 
 four evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John ; and the 
 first inquiry, according to the list above presented, is to 
 determine whether we have exactly the account which 
 they themselves give. Witnesses are commonly called 
 into court to tell their own story, and then there can be 
 no mistake. If that is impossible, as I remarked above, 
 their deposition is taken with certain forms, and the very 
 paper they originally signed is brought and read in court. 
 But neither of these courses can be taken here. For, in 
 the iirst place, the witnesses have been for a long time 
 dead, so that they rannot come forward to give their tes- 
 timony ; and though they did write a full account at the 
 time, yet it was so many years ago that no writing could 
 remain to the present period. Time has entirely destroy- 
 ed all vestiges of the writings of those days. 
 
 I presume all my readers are aware, that not long after 
 the time of our Savior the barbarians from the north, in
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 143 
 
 Dark ages. Old manuscripts. 
 
 innumerable hordes, began to pour down upon the Ro- 
 man empire, until at last they subverted and destroyed it. 
 Very many of these barbarians became nominal Chris- 
 tians and preserved some copies of the Bible, and in fact 
 they saved many extensive and valuable libraries of ma- 
 nuscripts in rolls, (the art of printing not being then 
 known,) but they destroyed most of the institutions and 
 the accumulated property of civilized life, and brought a 
 long period of ignorance and semi-barbarism, called the 
 dark ages, upon the world. After some time, however, 
 there began to be in various parts of Europe a gradual 
 improvement. The monks in the various convents hav- 
 ing no other employment, began to explore the old libra- 
 ries and to study the books. They made themselves ac- 
 quainted with the languages in which they were written, 
 and when the art of printing was invented they published 
 them. In consequence however of the immense number 
 of manuscripts collected in some of the libraries, a long 
 time elapsed before they were fully explored, and even 
 now the work is not absolutely completed. New writings 
 are occasionally brought to light and published. The dif- 
 ficulty of deciphering such old, worn out, faded, and al- 
 most illegible parchment rolls, is very great. 
 
 A great deal of interest was felt at the very first by 
 these explorers, to find the oldest copies of the Bible, or 
 of any parts of the Bible. They wished to have the most 
 accurate and authentic copy possible ; and the more an- 
 cient the copy, the more probable it was that it was taken 
 directly from the original, and consequently the more it 
 was to be depended upon. If they could have found a 
 manuscript which was evidently the very copy origi- 
 nally written by the author himself, it would have been 
 considered invaluable. 
 
 The number of manuscripts of the whole or of parts 
 of the Hebrew Bible, thus found, and now preserved in 
 various libraries of Europe, is more than four hundred ;
 
 144 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Genuineness of the Scriptures. Quotations. Illustration. 
 
 and of the Greek Testament, not far from one hundred 
 and fifty. They are scattered all over Europe, and are 
 preserved in the libraries with great care. The oldest of 
 them however was written several hundred years after 
 the death of Christ, so that we now cannot ever have the 
 manuscripts actually written by the original witnesses. 
 The two methods usually relied on therefore in courts of 
 justice, for being sure that the actual story of the wit- 
 ness himself is presented in court, fail in this case. We 
 must resort therefore to another method equally certain, 
 but different in form. 
 
 The evidence relied upon to prove that the books we 
 have now, or rather the ancient manuscripts in the libra- 
 ries in Europe from which they are translated, are really 
 the same with the accounts originally written by the wit- 
 nesses themselves, is this : Immediately after they were 
 written, a great many other Christian writers, very much 
 interested in these accounts, began to quote them in their 
 own letters and books. They quoted them much more 
 'copiously than it is customary to quote now, because the 
 art of printing puts every important book within the reach 
 of all who are interested in it. Then, the original ac- 
 counts were only in manuscript, and consequently could 
 be seen and read only by a few. These few therefore in 
 their writings made frequent and copious extracts from 
 them ; and these extracts have come down to us sepa- 
 rately, and each one proves that the passage it contains, 
 which is in the account now, was in that account when 
 the quotation was made. 
 
 An imaginary instance will make this plain. The Vat- 
 ican manuscript, as it is called, that is, a very ancient 
 manuscript preserved in the library of the Vatican at 
 Rome, is supposed to have been written about four hun 
 dred years after Christ. It contains, we will suppose. 
 John's Gospel, just as we have it now in our Bibles. 
 This proves, that if the real original account which John
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 145 
 
 Use made of quotations. Faley's evidences. 
 
 gave was altered at all after he wrote it, it was altered 
 before that time. Now suppose a Christian at Antioch, 
 living two hundred years before the Vatican manuscript 
 was written, had been writing a book, and in it had men- 
 tioned John's Gospel, and had copied out a whole chap- 
 ter. This book he leaves at Antioch : it is copied there 
 again and again, and some copies are found there at the 
 revival of learning after the dark ages. Here we have 
 or>e chapter proved to have been in John's account two 
 hundred years earlier than the date of the Vatican ma- 
 nuscript. In the same manner another chapter might 
 have been quoted in another book kept at Alexandria, 
 another at Rome, <fcc. And the fact is, that these quota- 
 tions have been so numerous, that they have formed an. 
 uninterrupted succession of evidences, beginning but a 
 very short time after the original accounts were written, 
 and coming down to modern times. Every chapter and 
 verse is not indeed confirmed in this way, but every thing 
 in the least degree important is. All the material facts, 
 and every particular in regard to which there could be 
 any necessity for this evidence, are furnished with it. 
 Learned men have taken a great deal of pains to explore 
 and collect this mass ^f evidence in favor of the genu- 
 ineness of the sacred books. These quotations have been 
 most carefully examined and republished ; so that all who 
 are inclined to go into an examination of them can do so. 
 Dr. Paley, in his evidences of Christianity, has presented 
 enough to satisfy any mind of sufficient attainments <o 
 appreciate such an argument. 
 
 I say, of sufficient attainment, for it requires not a 
 little. There are very few, excepting professed scholars, 
 who can have time to go fully enough into an examina- 
 tion of this subject to form an independent judgment. I 
 have not attempted in the above remarks to present you 
 with the argument itself, but only to explain the nature 
 of it. As I remarked before, 1 do not think the historical 
 
 7
 
 140 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Necessity for proving the genuineness of the Scriptures. 
 
 argument is calculated to come with so much force to the 
 minds of Christians generally, as one of another kind, 
 which I shall presently exhibit. All ought however to 
 understand its nature, 
 
 We may consider, then, the fact, that these almost in- 
 numerable quotations from the writers of the New Tes- 
 tament, and translations from them, forming a series 
 which commenced soon after the writings first appeared, 
 and continuing in uninterrupted succession down to the 
 present time, as abundant evidence that the story we 
 now have, is the story originally given by the witnesses 
 themselves. This evidence does satisfy all who fully 
 examine it. And this is the first point in the investigation. 
 
 But the question will arise in the minds of many of my 
 readers, why is it necessary to prove so fully and for- 
 mally such a point as this ? Why is it necessary to show 
 so carefully that these are precisely, in all important re- 
 spects, the very accounts originally written by the wit- 
 nesses themselves? The answer is this. Unless this 
 point were very carefully and fully proved, we might 
 have supposed that the prevailing belief of the truth of 
 the Christian miracles, and the general circulation of our 
 present books, might have arisen in this way. Suppose 
 that, eighteen hundred years ago, a good man, named 
 Jesus Christ, had been dissatisfied with the prevailing 
 errors and superstitions, and had taught a purer system 
 of religious and moral duty. His followers become 
 strongly attached to him. They repeat to one another 
 his instructions, follow him from place to place, and 
 soon attract the attention of the authorities of the coun- 
 try. Like Socrates, he is persecuted by his enemies, and 
 put to death. After his death, his disciples make greater 
 and greater efforts to promote his principles. They re- 
 late, with some exaggeration, the incidents of his life. 
 His benevolence and kindness to the sick and to the 
 afflicted is gradually, as the stories are repeated again
 
 Ch. ?.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 147 
 
 The original reco"ds remain. 
 
 and again, magnified to the exertion of miraculous 
 power. One extraordinary narrative after another gra- 
 dually gains credit and ci> dilation. No one intends to 
 deceive, but, according to the universal tendency hi such 
 cases, even where stories that strongly interest the feel- 
 ings are circulated among good men, the accounts gra- 
 dually and insensibly assume a marvellous and miracu- 
 lous air, ind after a time, when years have elapsed, and 
 no method of ascertaining the truth remains, these ex- 
 aggerated and false stories are committed to writing, and 
 these writings come down to us. This supposition might 
 very plausibly have been made. But the evidence af- 
 forded by the series of quotations I have above described 
 cuts it off' altogether. That long and uninterrupted 
 series carries us irresistibly back to the very time when 
 the events occurred. There is no time left for exag- 
 geration and misrepresentation. We prove that the ac- 
 counts which we now have were written on the spot 
 that they were in circulation, and exposed to rigid scru- 
 tiny at the very time in which the events themselves took 
 place and we are thus compelled to believe that the 
 original records, made at the time, have been preserved 
 unaltered to the present day. 
 
 " But does this," you will ask, " prove that the ac- 
 counts are true . ? " Most certainly not. We have not 
 yet attempted to prove them true. We have not yet 
 come to the examination of the evidence itself at all. 
 The original witnesses, if we admit that these accourta 
 were written by them, may have been mistaken or 
 they may have been false witnesses. We have said 
 nothing yet on these points. The reader must bear 
 in mind what is the precise point now up. It is simply 
 to show that the accounts we have now, whatever they 
 may contain, are the very accounts which the witnesses 
 themselves wrote. The depositions are properly authen- 
 ticated ; not, indeed, by the common legal forms seal
 
 148 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 The second poijit. Opportunities of knowing. House-breaker's trial 
 
 and signature and witness but by abundant evidence 
 and evidence of exactly the kind which is always most 
 relied on, and entirely relied on, in all other cases, where 
 the examination of very ancient documents comes up, 
 This point being thus settled, we are now prepared to 
 examine the evidence itself, in reference to the other 
 points I have mentioned. As it is very desirable, in order 
 to have clear views of any argument, that a distinct view 
 of its parts should be kept in mind, the reader is re- 
 quested to look back to page 143, for an enumeration 
 of the points to be examined, and he will recollect that 
 we have yet discussed only the first, and proceed now to 
 the second. 
 
 2. We must ascertain that the writers of these ac- 
 counts had distinct opportunities to witness what they 
 describe. 
 
 Now, in regard to thig, their own testimony is to be 
 taken. It is common to ask witnesses on the stand, in 
 a court of justice, about the opportunities they had of 
 knowing certainly, or the possibility that they might be 
 mistaken, and they give their own account of the situa- 
 tion in which they were placed. This account is ad- 
 mitted and believed, like all their other testimony, unless 
 something appears which shows that the witness is not 
 to be trusted, and then all his statements are abandoned 
 together. 
 
 I noticed in the trial above described, that the counsel 
 for the prisoner was particular on this point. He asked 
 the witness, after he had told all the story about his de- 
 tecting the man in the chamber, as follows : 
 
 " But are you sure that that (pointing to the prisoner) 
 was the man ?" 
 
 " Yes, perfectly sure. I could aot be mistaken, for I 
 took him at once to the watch-hose." 
 
 This was decisive ; it proved that the witness had a 
 most excellent opportunity to know what he described.
 
 Oil. 7] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 149 
 
 Sacred writers could not have been mistaken. 
 
 and that there was no possibility of mistake. Suppose, 
 however, that the thief had been active enough to have 
 run down stairs and escaped, allowing the witness only a 
 glimpse of his person, and the next day the witness had 
 met a man in the street whom he supposed was the same, 
 and had procured his arrest and trial, the jury would in 
 this case have placed far less confidence in his testimony, 
 eren if they knew that he was a very honest man and 
 intended to tell the truth. The difficulty would have 
 been the want of a full and unquestionable opportunity 
 to know what the truth was. 
 
 In the same manner, if there is any thing which might 
 operate to produce delusion, a jury would receive testi- 
 mony with great hesitation. For example, suppose a 
 witness should testify that he saw some supernatural ap- 
 pearance in going through a dark wood by night. Few 
 would believe him, however honest a man he might be, 
 on account of the great danger of being deceived in going 
 through a scene full of irregular objects, such as the va- 
 rieties of vegetation, the broken rocks, the whitened 
 trunks of decaying trees, and going through too at night, 
 when all forms are vague and indeterminate, and easily 
 modified by the imagination or the fears. Again, an ho- 
 nest man, one in whose word I place great confidence, 
 may tell me of a cure for rheumatism. He says he haa 
 tried it, and it always does great good. I receive his 
 testimony with great doubt, because he cannot probably, 
 with the little experience he has, know how much the be- 
 nefit he experienced was owing to the supposed remedy, 
 and how much to other causes. If the same man should 
 come home from Boston, and say that the State House 
 was burnt that he saw it all in flames or any other ex- 
 traordinary fact, far more extraordinary than the effica- 
 cy of a remedy for rheumatism, I should believe him, if 
 it was only a case where he had distinct and unqucstiona-
 
 160 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Proofs that sacred writers could not have been mistaken. 
 
 ble opportunity to observe, and where no room was left 
 for mistake or delusion. 
 
 Now if we examine the miracles which our Savior per- 
 formed, and the opportunity which the disciples had of 
 witnessing them, we shall see that there could not have 
 been a mistake. Remember, however, that I am not now 
 saying that their story must be true. I am only here 
 showing that they could not have been mistaken. They 
 must have known whether what they were saying was 
 true or not. The case could not be like that of a man 
 telling a ghost story, something which he thinks is true, 
 but which is in reality not so. The things done, were 
 done in open day. They were done in presence of mul- 
 titudes ; and they were of such a nature that those who 
 witnessed them could not be deceived : healing what are 
 called incurable diseases ; feeding multitudes with a small 
 supply of food ; walking on the sea ; rising from the 
 grave, after remaining upon the cross till Roman soldiers 
 were satisfied that life was gone. Who could be a better 
 judge of death than a Roman soldier 1 These, and a mul- 
 titude of similar things, might be given as proofs that 
 these witnesses could not be mistaken in what they de- 
 scribed. They knew whether they were true or not. And 
 consequently if the third point, that is their honesty,should 
 be proved, we must believe what they say. If they had 
 informed us only of a few miraculous events, and those 
 seen by a few people, or of such a character as to render 
 the witnesses peculiarly liable to be deceived, we mijrht 
 have admitted their honesty, but denied the truth of their 
 statements. As it is, however, we cannot do this. 
 
 Not only were the facts themselves of so open and pub- 
 lic a character that there could not be any mistake about 
 them, but the writers of our accounts were eye-witwsses 
 of them. They did not obtain a knowledge of them by 
 hearsay or report : they wrote what they themselves 
 saw and heard. It is noticeable that they themselves
 
 Cll. ?.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 151 
 
 They were eye-witnesses. Third point. 
 
 placed peculiar stress upon this circumstance. Luke be- 
 gins his gospel by saying, " It seemed good to me> having- 
 hud perfect understanding of all things from the first, to 
 write unto thee." John, at the close of his book, distinct- 
 ly records the fact, that the writer of Ike account was one 
 of the principal actors in the scenes he describes ; Pe- 
 ter, in his defence of himself before the Jewish authori- 
 ties, says lie cannot but speak the things he has seen and 
 heard ; and perhaps the most striking of all is, that when 
 the apostles came together to elect one to take the place 
 of Judas, they restricted themselves in their selection to 
 those who had been, from the beginning, witnesses of 
 the whole. "Wherefore," was the proposition, " of these 
 men which have companied with us all the time that the 
 Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the 
 baptism of John unto that same day that he was taken up 
 from us, must one be ordained to be a witness with us of 
 his resurrection." These men understood the laws of 
 the human mind in regard to believing testimony. They 
 knew well what was necessary to make out a case, and 
 they secured iL 
 
 We have now explained how the two first points in owr 
 chain of reasoning are established, and we may considfv 
 it as certain, in the first place, that though our witnesses 
 are not living, and consequently cannot present us their 
 testimony in person, and although so long a time has 
 elapsed, that their original writings are worn out and 
 destroyed, yet that there is abundant evidence that we 
 have the real account which they delivered ; and, in the 
 second place, that they could not be mistaken in the facts 
 to which they give their testimony, as they were eye- 
 witnesses of them, and the facts are of such a nature 
 fhat there could be no delusion. There is no possible 
 way now, after these two points are established, by which 
 their testimony can be set aside, except by the supposi
 
 J62 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Third point. Their style of writing. Impartiality. 
 
 tion that they were impostors. This brings us to our 
 third and last pornt, mentioned on page 143. 
 
 3. We must have evidence that our witnesses are cre- 
 dible; i. e. that they are honest men, and that their word 
 can be relied upon. 
 
 The evidence on this point is, if possible, more com- 
 plete and more absolutely unquestionable than upon either 
 of the others ; the honest and candid manner in which 
 they relate their story is evidence ; it is plain, straight 
 forward, and simple. Their writings have exactly the air 
 and tone of men conscious that they are telling the truth, 
 but aware that it will be regarded with very different 
 feelings by their readers. They narrate, frankly and 
 fully, the events in which they or their companions were 
 to blame ; and they do nothing more in regard to the 
 guilt of their enemies. There are no palliating or exte- 
 nuating statements or expressions on the one side, nor 
 any disposition to apply epithets of odium or exaggera- 
 tion upon the other. The story is simply told, and left 
 to work its own way. 
 
 How differently do men act in other cases ! How easily 
 can you tell upon which side the writer is, when he gives 
 an account of circumstances relating to a contest between' 
 two individuals or two parties! Open to any history of 
 the battle of Waterloo, or of the campaign in Russia, 
 and how long can you doubt whether the author is a 
 friend or an enemy of Napoleon? Now turn to St. John's 
 account of the trial and crucifixion of the Savior a most 
 unparalleled scene of cruel suffering and there is not 
 a harsh epithet, and scarcely an expression of displea- 
 sure, on the part of the writer, from the beginning to 
 the end of it ; you would scarcely know what was his 
 opinion. Take, for instance, the account of the prefer- 
 ence of Barabbas by the Jews. Another writer would 
 have said, " The Jews were so bent on the destruction 
 of their innocent and helpless victim, that when Pilate
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY, 1 o'l 
 
 Bui-abbas chosen and Christ rejected. 
 
 proposed to release him, in accordance with their cus- 
 tom of having a prisoner annually set at liberty on the 
 day of their great festival, they chose a base malefactor 
 in his stead ; they preferred that a robber, justly con- 
 demned for his crimes, should be let loo.se upon society, 
 rather than that the meek and lowly Jesus should again 
 go forth to do good to all." But what does John say * 
 There is no attempt in his account to make a display of 
 the guilt of the Jews no effort to throw odium upon 
 them no exaggeration no coloring. " Will ye," says 
 Pilate, " that I release unto you the king of the Jews ? 
 Then cried they all again, saying Not this man, but 
 Barabbas. Now, Barabbas was a robber." 
 
 In the same spirit is the whole account not only the 
 narrative of this writer, but all the writers of the New 
 Testament : it breathes a spirit of calm, composed dig- 
 nity, which scarcely any thing can equal. In the midst 
 of one of the greatest moral excitements which the world 
 has ever seen, and writing upon the very subject of that 
 excitement, and themselves the very objects of it, they 
 exhibit a self-possession and a composure almost with- 
 out a parallel. Exposed to most extraordinary persecu* 
 tion and consequent suffering, they never revile or re- 
 tort upon their oppressors. It is impossible to avoid the 
 conclusion, when reading the chapters of the New Tes- 
 tament, that the writers understood and felt the moral 
 sublimity of the position they were occupying. They 
 seem to have felt that they were speaking, not to a few 
 thousand cotemporaries in Judea, but to countless mil- 
 lions of human beings, scattered over the earth, or com- 
 ing up, generation after generation, to read their story, 
 to the end of time. They rise entirely above all the in- 
 fluences then pressing so strongly upon them, and in 
 calm and fearless independence offer their testimony. 
 They could not have done this it is not in human na- 
 ture to have done it- had they not been sustained by this 
 
 7*
 
 154 YOUNG CHHISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Elevated views. They were disinterested. Our Savior's farewell 
 
 consideration, viz. : They knew that they were telling 
 THE TRUTH on the most momentous subject evei pre- 
 sented to men, and THAT THEY WERE TELLING IT TO THE 
 
 WHOLE WORLD. 
 
 Another proof of their honesty is, that they were en- 
 tirely disinterested ; or rather, they were interested to 
 conceal the truth, not to tell it. Their testimony brought 
 them nothing, and could bring them nothing but reproach, 
 and suffering, and death. They saw this in the history of 
 the Savior, and, instead of endeavoring to keep them un- 
 conscious of the sufferings that awaited them, he plainly 
 and frankly foretold all, just before he left them. He told 
 them in the most affecting manner the communication 
 he made is recorded in the futeenth and sixteenth chapters 
 of the Gospel according to St. John all that should be- 
 fall them. " You must not expect," said he, in substance, 
 " i> find the world more kind to you than it has been to 
 me. They have persecuted me, and they will persecute 
 you. They will put you out of the synagogues, and who- 
 soever killeth you will think he doeth God service. I tell 
 you these things beforehand, so that when the time shall 
 come, you will remember that I told you, and be com- 
 forted then. I wish you to understand the dangers and 
 trials that await you. You must not, however, be de- 
 jected or discouraged because I have told you these 
 things. It is necessary for me to go away, and it is ne- 
 cessary for you to encounter these evils. But it is only 
 for a little time. The years will pass away swiftly, and 
 when you have done your duty here, you shall come to 
 me again, and find a perpetual home with me and my 
 Father in a happier world." 
 
 Such was the substance of this part of our Savior's 
 farewell addrcsr His disciples listened to it in sadness, 
 but thry did not shrink from their duty. A very few 
 hours after hearing these last words of their Master in 
 tl.eir place of retirement, they found themselves gazing
 
 Ch. *7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 1">? 
 
 Interested witnesses. 
 
 In terror, and at a distance, at that dreadful throng which 
 was pouring out of the gates of Jerusalem to see thvii 
 beloved Master struggling upon the cross. They were 
 overwhelmed by this scene : but terror triumphed only 
 for a time. Immediately after the Savior's ascension, 
 we find them assembled, making calmly, but with fixed 
 determination, their arrangements for future efforts, and 
 waiting for the command from above one hundred and 
 twenty in an upper chamber, planning a campaign 
 against the world ! They knew, they must have known, 
 that they themselves went forward to suffering and to 
 death. They went forwatd, however. They told then 
 story. They suffered and died. Must they not have 
 been honest men? 
 
 The way in which men are interested is always to 
 be looked at in judging of their testimony. If a jury- 
 man is interested in the result of a trial, he is set aside 
 he cannot judge impartially. If a witness is interested 
 at all, his testimony is received with a great deal of cau- 
 tion, or else absolutely rejected. And whenever a case 
 is of such a nature that all those who were witnesses of 
 the facts are interested on one side or on the other, it i 
 extremely difficult to ascertain the truth. A very strik- 
 ing example of this is furnished by the circumstances of 
 the battle of Lexington, at the commencement of the 
 American Revolution. Each of the parties, anticipating 
 a struggle, and desirous of being prepared for it, had 
 made efforts to get as much of the arms and ammunition 
 of the country as possible into its own hands, and the 
 British General in Boston, understanding that there was 
 at Concord a supply of military stores, conceived the 
 design of sending a party in the night to Concord to ob- 
 tain it. He kept his design, or rather tried to keep it, 
 secret. Late in the evening, the troops embarked in 
 boats on the west side of the peninsula on which Boston 
 is built, and sailed across the cove to the main land
 
 166 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Battle of Lexington. Parliament and Congress. 
 
 This was done in silence, and it was hoped in secrecy. 
 The Americans however, in some way, heard of the plan. 
 The country was alarmed ; men rode on horseback at 
 midnight from town to town, ringing the bells and call- 
 ing out the inhabitants, and by three o'clock in the morn- 
 ing a number of troops were collected at Lexington to 
 oppose the progress of the British detachment. 
 
 Now, neither party wished to begin the contest. Like 
 two boys eager for a quarrel, each wished to throw the 
 odium of striking the first blow upon the other. This 
 difficulty is however usually soon surmounted, and in this 
 case the musketry was soon speaking distinctly on both 
 sides. After a momentary conflict the Americans were 
 dispersed, and the British moved on to the place of their 
 destination. 
 
 Now, after all this was over, there arose the question, 
 not in itself very important, one would think, but yet 
 made so by those concerned at the time, " Who began 
 this affray? Who fired first?" To determine this point, 
 the American Congress are said to have instituted a for- 
 mal inquiry. They examined witnesses who were on the 
 spot and saw the whole, and they found abundant and 
 satisfactory evidence that the British soldiers fired first, 
 and that the Americans did not discharge their pieces 
 until they were compelled to do it in self-defence. The 
 British Parliament entered into a similar inquiry, and 
 they came to an equally satisfactory conclusion only it 
 happened to be exactly the reverse of the other. They 
 examined witnesses who were on the spot and saw the 
 whole, and they found abundant evidence that the Ame- 
 rican soldiers fired first, and that the Britisli dftl not dis- 
 charge their pieces until they were compelled to do it in 
 self-defence. No.v, the reason for this disagreement un- 
 questionably was, that each nation examined only its own 
 soldiers, and the soldiers on both sides were interested 
 Suppose now, that there had been in the American army
 
 Ch. ?.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 157 
 
 Points proved. Argument from prophecy. 
 
 a considerable number who admitted that the first guns 
 were fired from their own ranks. Suppose that, in con- 
 sequence of this their testimony, they brought upon 
 themselves the dislike of the whole army, and, to a great 
 extent, of the nation at large how strong would have 
 been the reliance placed upon such testimony ! " There 
 .cannot be a doubt," the British would have said, " that 
 you fired upon us first half of your own troops say so." 
 This would have been a very fair inference. When men 
 bear testimony contrary to their own interests or feel- 
 ings, they are generally believed. 
 
 We have thus abundant evidence that the original pro- 
 pagators of the Gospel were honest men, and this com- 
 pletes the three positions necessary to prove that the 
 Christian miracles were actually performed. 
 
 1. We are sure that the witnesses are honest men. 
 
 2. The facts are of such a nature, that the witnesses 
 could not have been deceived in them. 
 
 3. It is proved that we have exactly the account which 
 they themselves gave. 
 
 The miracles being once proved, the divine authority 
 of the religion is proved ; for no man can imagine that 
 the Deity would exert his power in producing miracu- 
 lous effects to give authority to a message which he did 
 not send. 
 
 There is one other independent head of the external 
 .evidences of Christianity : it is the argument from pro- 
 phecy. They who brought the communication which is 
 offered to us as a message from heaven, said that they 
 were endued with the power, not only of working mira- 
 cles, but of foretelling future events. In some cases, 
 human sagacity can foresee what is future, and even dis- 
 k tant. They however professed to exercise this power in 
 cases to which no human skill or foresight could have 
 extended. Such a power as this is evidently miraculous,
 
 IBS YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. t. 
 
 The Savior foretold. Prophecies. Destruction of Jerusalem; 
 
 and they who possessed it must have received it from 
 the Creator. 
 
 One or two examples will clearly illustrate the nature 
 of this argument. A great number of the prophets who 
 appeared in the early years of the sacred history, fore- 
 told the coming of a Savior. Precisely what sort of a 
 Savior he was to be, was not distinctly foretold at least 
 not so distinctly as to remove all misconceptions on the 
 subject. So certain is it however that such prophecies 
 were uttered, and generally published, that there pre- 
 vailed throughout the Jewish nation, and even to some 
 extent in neighboring countries, a general expectation 
 that an extraordinary personage was to appear. We have 
 evidence enough of this not merely from the Scriptures 
 themselves, but from a multitude of other writings, which 
 appeared at that time, and which have come (town to us 
 by separate and independent channels. There can be no 
 question in the mind of any one who will examine the 
 subject, that the coming of Christ was predicted with so 
 much distinctness as to produce an almost universal ex- 
 pectation of the appearance of some very extraordinary 
 personage ; and the event corresponded with the pre- 
 diction. A most extraordinary personage appeared ; the 
 most extraordinary, as all will acknowledge Christiana 
 and infidels that ever appeared upon the earth. 
 
 Our Savior's prediction of the destruction of Jerusa- 
 lem is another example. The scene was described with 
 astonishing minuteness and accuracy, sixty or seventy 
 years before it took place and there was, at the time of 
 the prediction, no reason whatever, so far as human fore- 
 sight could extend, to expect such a catastrophe. 
 
 Now, to examine fully this species of argument, seve- 
 ral points ought to receive special attention. First, we 
 must ascertain that the prophecy was really anterior to 
 the event which is alleged to have occurred in fulfillment 
 of it. This now, in regard to writings and facts so an-
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 159 
 
 False prophecies. Subject difficult. 
 
 cient as those of the Scriptures, is a peculiarly difficult 
 task. Secondly, that the event is such an one as human 
 foresight could not have foreseen. Thirdly, that there 
 were not, in similar writings, a multitude of other pro- 
 phecies -which failed, and that those only have been pre- 
 served which have apparently succeeded. Among the 
 ignorant and vulgar, nothing is more common than a 
 belief in the powers of fortune-tellers, or of the prophe- 
 tic meaning of signs and dreams. The reason why this 
 imposture retains its ascendency is, that the few suc- 
 cessful cases are remembered and talked about, and the 
 cases of failure are neglected and forgotten. If a per- 
 son predicts at random in regard to common events, he 
 must sometimes be successful, and if his votaries will 
 forget the unsuccessful attempts, he may soon have the 
 reputation of a conjurer. Now, we must ascertain that 
 the prophecies of the Bible are not of this character, i. e. 
 a few lucky predictions among a multitude of failures. 
 Fourthly, we must ascertain that the events themselves 
 were not under the control of men in such a way as to 
 enable those who were interested in the success of the 
 prophecy to bring about the corresponding result. 
 
 Now to examine thoroughly all these points, so as really 
 to form an independent judgment upon them, and to take 
 nothing upon trust, requires, in some instances, no little 
 nun..'!)' of mind, and in others, no little scholarship and 
 laborious research. The young must almost entirely 
 take this argument upon trust. I can only explain its 
 nature, and thus prepare you to read more understand- 
 ingly other works on this subject. Those who have gone 
 into it most thoroughly, as ib the case with all the histo- 
 rical e-idences of Christianity, have been most convinced 
 of the firmness of the ground. The most profound scho- 
 lars in all Christian nations, if they have given the subject 
 due attention, have been most decided in their belief of 
 the Christian religion.
 
 \60 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7 
 
 Were the Christian witnesses believed ? Contest with Paganism 
 
 This completes the view which I intended to give o 
 ihe historical argument. It would require a volume K> 
 present the argument itself in all its detail. My design 
 has been to give a clear idea of the nature of this kind of 
 reasoning, not to present all the facts upon which the va- 
 rious pillars of the argument are founded. And here ', 
 might rest this part of my subject, were it not that then 
 is one consideration which corroborates very much tin 
 conclusion to which we have come. The question very 
 naturally arises, "Was this story believed at the time? 
 It seems to be a plain case, that the disciples of Christ 
 made out very decisive evidence of their divine commis- 
 sion ; but the people who lived at that time, and upon the 
 spot, had a much better opportunity of judging in this 
 case than we have. Now, did they believe this ac- 
 count?" 
 
 This is a fair question. It is always asked in similar 
 cases. A merchant will ask, " Is the report believed 
 which was circulated on 'Change to-day ?" " Was ii ge- 
 nerally believed in London that such or such an event 
 would take place ?" And this belief or disbelief on tho 
 part of those who have the best opportunities of knowing, 
 is sometimes regarded as the strongest evidence which 
 can be procured. It is right, therefore, to ask whether 
 the extraordinary story of the Christians was believed by 
 those who were upon the spot to discover error or im- 
 posture, if any was to be found. 
 
 The answer is, it was believed. The story spread with 
 a rapidity to which no other revolution in the public mind 
 can afford a parallel. When the hundred and twenty as- 
 sembled in their upper room, paganism was enjoying un- 
 disturbed and unquestioned possession of the whole Ro- 
 man empire. Paganism reigned in every crowded city 
 and in every distant province. Her temples crowned a 
 thousand summits ; and the multitude, whose interests 
 were identified with the support of her rights, might at
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 161 
 
 Power of truth. Internal evidence. Unity of the Scriptures. 
 
 any time arm themselves with all the power of the Cae- 
 sars to resist the encroachments of truth. A hundred 
 and twenty, with the story of a crucified Galilean rising 
 from the dead, came forth to attack this mighty fabric ; 
 and they prevailed. Opprobrium and ridicule, gentle 
 persuasion and stern menaces ; imprisonment, fire and 
 sword ; torture and death, tried all their powers in vain. 
 And by what means did the fearless assailants in this 
 most unequal war prevail against such an array as this ? 
 Why, simply by reiterating the declaration, Jesus Christ 
 did rise from the grave ; and you ought to repent and be- 
 lieve on him. And they conquered. " The truth is great, 
 and it will prevail," said a Roman writer. He could not 
 have found an example like this. The simple declaration 
 of a number of competent witnesses, after a most ener- 
 getic struggle, prevails over one of the greatest civil and 
 military powers which the world has ever seen. Yes ; 
 the story was believed. It spread with unexampled ra- 
 pidity, and revolutionized the moral world. 
 
 But we must pass to the second species of evidence we 
 have enumerated. 
 
 II. INTERNAL EVIDENCE. 
 
 This evidence consists of an examination of the con- 
 tents of the Bible, to see whether the declarations it con- 
 tains are such as we may suppose would really come from 
 our Maker. We ought to enter upon such an examina- 
 tion, however, with great caution ; for if the book is real- 
 ly a message from Heaven, we are to receive it, whatever 
 it may contain. It is not for us to decide what our Ma- 
 ker ought, and what he ought not, to communicate to us. 
 It is interesting however to examine the contents of the 
 Scriptures, to see the indications, with which the volume 
 is filled, that it is from God. Some of these indications I 
 hall mention. 
 
 1. The remarkable simplicity of its whole design. It
 
 162 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 The Bible a number of books. Its single object. 
 
 seems to have one simple and single object from the be- 
 ginning to the end ; and this is very remarkable, if we 
 consider how many distinct authors it has, and in how 
 distant periods it was written. The Bible is not a book, 
 but a library. It consists of a large number of books en- 
 tirely separate and distinct, bound up together. The 
 times at which the various parts were written are scat- 
 tered over a period of fflecn hundred years. The au- 
 thors are numerous. It would be a very interesting ex- 
 ercise for young persons to attempt to make out an ac- 
 curate list of them. They are of every variety of cha- 
 racter and standing learned and unlearned, rich and 
 poor, kings, poets, generals. There is every variety in 
 the character of the authors and of the style ; and yet one 
 single, simple design is kept in view from the beginning 
 to the end, with a steadiness which is astonishing. But 
 what is that object? It may be stated thus : 
 
 The Bible is a history of the redemption of our race by 
 Jesus Christ, and it is nothing more. From the begin- 
 ning to the end of it, with a very few, if any exceptions, it 
 is nothing but that. Open at Genesis and follow on, 
 chapter after chapter, and book after book, until you 
 come to the final benediction in the last chapter of Reve- 
 lation, it all bears upon this. Now if this book was plan- 
 ned by the Supreme, and if he superintended its execu- 
 tion during the fifteen centuries it was in progress, all 
 this is easily accounted for. Nothing else can account 
 for it. 
 
 But I must show more fully that this is the single and 
 simple aim of the Scriptures. Lot us briefly review its 
 contents. It begins by explaining simply and clearly the 
 creation of the world, and God's design in creating it 
 His intention was to have had a happy community to 
 tenant it, who should be united in each other, and united 
 to him ; forming one family of undivided hearts and aims, 
 1] interested in the common welfare, and all looking to
 
 Cll. 7.J EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 163 
 
 The Bible a history of Christ. 
 
 him as to the common bond of union and the common 
 source of happiness. " Thou shall love the Lord thy 
 God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself," 
 was unquestionably the law originally written on the 
 human heart. 
 
 Men sinned, however ; they broke God's law, and the 
 Bible then describes the consequences of sin, in bringing 
 suffering upon the human family. The earth was filled 
 with violence. One dreadful experiment was tried, by 
 the flood, of the power of punishment retribution to 
 bring men back to duty, but they who escaped the flood 
 escaped only to go on in sin. 
 
 It is noticeable that, in one of the very first chapters of 
 the Bible the coming of the Savior is foretold, and from 
 that time the sacred history marks out and follows with 
 minute accuracy the line of succession which is to con- 
 duct us to that Savior. There were a vast many nations 
 on the earth, or existing in embryo, at the time when the 
 Israelites were in Egypt, whose history is far more im- 
 portant, in every respect but one, than is the history 
 of the Jews. There were the Egyptians, the Assyrians, 
 and the Persians. The sacred history neglects them all, 
 and turns its whole attention to a body of Egyptian 
 slaves; and why? Why it was because among these 
 slaves there was the ancestor of the coming Messiah. 
 
 The Bible represents Jehovah as conducting this na- 
 tion by his own hand to a country which was to be their 
 home, in order that he might preserve them separate from 
 the rest of mankind, and make them the keepers of his 
 communications with men. A great deal of the Old Tes- 
 tament history is occupied in giving us an account of the 
 particular institutions established among this people, 
 and of the circumstances of their own private history. 
 In regard to their institutions, there seem to have been 
 two distinct objects. One was to preserve them separate 
 from the idolatrous nations around, in order that the wor
 
 164 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Sacrifices. Meaning of sacrifices. 
 
 ship of the true God might be the better preserved. The 
 other object, perhaps more important, was effected by the 
 institution of sacrifices; of this I shall presently speak 
 more fully. This Jewish nation, however, in its institu- 
 tions and history, is followed by the sacred writers, who 
 keep all the time as close as possible to the line of suc- 
 cession leading to Jesus Christ. The coming Savior is 
 often alluded to, especially whenever any great crisis oc- 
 curring in their history furnishes an occasion upon which 
 God makes to some leading individual a distinct commu- 
 nication in regard to his plans. 
 
 It is remarkable, how large a number of the indivi- 
 duals whose lives are given in the Old Testament, were 
 the ancestors of Christ, and how steadily there is kept 
 in view the future coining of the Son of God. 
 
 I have mentioned sacrifices. The design of Jehovah 
 in establishing these rites so early, and taking such ef- 
 fectual precautions to secure their observance, seems to 
 have been this : to familiarize the minds of men to the 
 idea, that there must be something more than penitence to 
 atone for sin. We are all much more ready to admit this 
 in reference to any other government than to the divine. 
 Many a father sees the inefficacy of pardon, merely up 
 on the ground of sorrow and confession, to restrain his 
 sons from sin ; and many a politician will admit the folly 
 of such a course in civil society, who yet think that God 
 may govern his dominions on such a principle. In all 
 God's dealings, however, with man, he has taken other 
 ground. Sacrifices were instituted so early, that they have 
 spread to almost every people under the sun. Wherever 
 you go to the most distant heathen nation to the most 
 barbarous tribe or to the remotest island of the ocean, 
 you will find almost all prepared, by the very customs 
 which have been handed down from the time of Noah, 
 to admit the necessity, that there must be retributive suf- 
 fering where there has been sin. God required the Jews,
 
 Ch. 7.J EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 166 
 
 Their moral influence. 
 
 when they had done wrong, to bring an offering ; not to 
 lead them to suppose that the sufferings of bulls and 
 goats could take away sin, but that some atonement was 
 necessary. The effect upon their minds was undoubtedly 
 this : A man having committed some sin ; instead cf 
 merely confessing his guilt, and expecting forgiveness as 
 a matter of course, came with the innocent dove, or the 
 harmless lamb, and offered it in sacrifice ; and when he 
 did it, if he did it in the right spirit, he un-questionably 
 felt that his sin had done an injury to the government of 
 God, which he, himself, could not repair. He could not 
 come back to innocence alone. The ceremony must have 
 had a most powerful influence in producing a practical 
 conviction that sin, once committed, could not be recall- 
 ed by the individual who had committed it, but must in- 
 volve consequences beyond his control. That is precise- 
 ly the conviction necessary to enable us to avail our c e]ves 
 of the redemption of Christ. It is exactly the p-repara- 
 tion of heart to lead us to him. We have sinned, and the 
 evil we have done it is out of our power to remedy. We 
 may stop sinning, but the evil influence of our past guilt 
 must be checked by some other agency far more power- 
 ful than any penitence of onrs. The Jews, then, by com- 
 ing habitually to the sacrifices of their law, had this 
 feeling thoroughly wrought into all their thoughts and 
 feelings on the subject of sin and pardon. When they 
 came with sincere penitence to offer the sacrifice requir- 
 ed by the law, and with such a feeling as I have described, 
 they were undoubtedly forgiven through the mediation 
 of a far greater sacrifice, which was only represented by 
 the dove or the lamb. 
 
 If we thus look at the Jewish history and institutions, 
 and see their spirit and design, \ve shall see that they ali 
 point to Christ. One single object is aimed at in all. 
 After the history is brought down to the return from the 
 captivity, it is suddenly concluded and why? Because
 
 166 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 7. 
 
 Conclusion of the book. 
 
 ;ill is now ready for the coming of Christ. There is a 
 chasm of some hundred years, not because the events of 
 that time are less interesting than of the preceding to 
 the eye of the mere scholar or political historian, they 
 are more so but because they do not bear at all upon the 
 great event, the redemption of mankind by Jesus Christ 
 to which the whole Bible tends. The nation from which 
 the promised Savior is to come, is followed in its va- 
 rious difficulties and adventures, until it becomes finally 
 established in the country where the Messiah is to ap- 
 pear, and then left. There could not be a stronger proof 
 that the Bible has the history of Christ for its great object, 
 or that that object is kept steadily in view. 
 
 As we draw toward the developement of the drama, 
 however, the story becomes more minute, and the inte- 
 rest increases. The great Redeemer at length appears. 
 \Ve have, from four separate writers, a narrative of his 
 life ; we have a simple account of the first efforts to spread 
 the news of salvation through him ; we have a few of the 
 writings of some of those who originally received his in 
 structions, and then a revelation of the future in some 
 respects clear and distinct in the awful pictures of scenes 
 to come which it draws, and in others dark, and as yet un- 
 intelligible to us closes the volume. 
 
 There is something deeply sublime in the language with 
 which this final conclusion of the sacred volume is announc- 
 ed. Perhaps it was intended to apply particularly to the 
 book of Revelation itself, but we can scarcely read it with- 
 out the conviction, that the writer felt that he was bringing 
 to a close a series of communications from heaven which 
 had been making for fifteen hundred years. The great 
 subject of the whole was now fairly presented to man- 
 kind. The nature and the effects of sin, the way of sal- 
 vation, and the future scenes through which we are all 
 to pass, had been described, and he closes with the invi- 
 tation O how cordially is it expressed " And the Spirii
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 167 
 
 Appropriate language. Advent of the Savior. Its time and place 
 
 and the bride say, Come, and let him that heareth say 
 Come ;" that is, spread the invitation far and wide. Let 
 every one that heareth it repeat the sound. " Let him that 
 is athirst come, and whosoever will, let him partake of the 
 water of life freely." 
 
 And then he says and how appropriate for the last 
 language of the Bible ! 
 
 " I testify unto every man that heareth the words of the 
 prophecy of this book, if any man shall add unto these 
 things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written 
 in this book ; and if any man shall take away from the 
 words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away 
 his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, 
 and from the things which are written in this book." 
 
 Yes, the plan and object of the Bible is single and simple 
 from beginning to end. Amidst all that endless variety 
 which makes it an inexhaustible mine of interest and in- 
 struction, the great ultimate design is never lost sight of 
 or forgotten. That design is the redemption of a lost 
 world by th.e Son of God; a design which is surely great 
 enough for God to announce to his creatures. 
 
 There is something interesting in the time and place se- 
 lected for the advent of the Savior. This earth being a 
 globe, of course has not, that is, its surface has not any 
 geographical centre ; but if we take into view its moral 
 and political condition and history, it has some parts far 
 more suitable to be radiant points from which any extra- 
 ordinary message from heaven is to be disseminated than 
 others It would be difficult to find a place more suita- 
 ble for such a purpose than the very country chosen by 
 Jehovah as the scene of the sufferings and death of Christ. 
 Look upon the map. and yoa find that the land of Canaan 
 is situated upon the eastern coast of the Mediterranean 
 sea ; and if you look east, west, north, and south, at the 
 various connexions of this spot, you will find that no other 
 on earth will compare with it for the purpose for which
 
 168 TOCNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7 
 
 The Mediterranean soa. Interesting associations. 
 
 it was selected. Egypt and the other regions of Africa 
 on the south, are balanced by Syria and the Caucasian 
 countries on the north. There were the Persian and 
 Assyrian empires on the cast, and there were the Grecian 
 and Roman empires on the west. India and China, with 
 their immense multitudes, are upon one side, and modern 
 France, and England, and Germany, with their vast poli- 
 tical power, upon the other. Then look upon the Medi- 
 terranean sea, on the borders of which Canaan lies, 
 bathing as it does the shores of three quarters of the 
 globe, and bearing upon its bosom almost every ship that 
 sailed for the first five thousand years of the earth's his- 
 tory. Palestine is a most remarkable spot for such a pur 
 pose. If no such communication had ever been made from 
 heaven, and the earth had remained in darkness and pa- 
 ganism to the present day. its history having remained, 
 in other respects, the same as it has been ; and we had 
 looked over it to find the best station for an embassy 
 from above, Judca would have been the very spot. We 
 should have pointed to the Levant, and said, here is the 
 moral centre of the world. If a missionary from heaven 
 is to be sent, let him be stationed here. 
 
 It is astonishing how much of the interesting history 
 of the human race has had for its scene the shores of the 
 Mediterranean. Egypt is there. There is Greece. Xerx- 
 es, Darius, Solomon, Caesar, Hannibal, knew no extended 
 sea but the Mediterranean. The mighty armies of Persia, 
 and the smaller, but invincible bands of the Grecians, 
 passed its tributaries. Pompey fled across it the fleets 
 of Rome and Carthage sustained their deadly struggles 
 npon its waters ; and, until the discovery of the passage 
 round the Cape of Good Hope, the commerce of the 
 world passed through the ports of the Mediterranean. If 
 we go back to ancient ages, we find the Phenician sai- 
 lors the first who ventured upon the unstable element 
 slowly and fearfully steering their little barks along the
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 169 
 
 Character of God. 
 
 shores of this sea ; and if we come down to modern 
 times, we see the men of war of every nation proudly 
 ploughing its waves, or riding at anchor in its harbors. 
 There is not a region upon the face of the earth so asso- 
 ciated with the recollection of all that is interesting in 
 the history of our race, as the shores of the Mediterra- 
 nean sea ; nor a place more likely to be chosen by the 
 Creator as the spot where he would establish his com- 
 munication with men, than the land of Judea. 
 
 The time selected is as worthy of notice as the place ; 
 I irean now, the time of the advent of the Messiah. The 
 world had been the scene of war and bloodshed for many 
 centuries empire after empire had arisen upon the ruins 
 of the preceding, none however obtaining a very gene- 
 ral sway; at last the Roman power obtained universal 
 ascendancy and all was at peace. A very considerable 
 degree of civilization and knowledge prevailed over a 
 great part of the then known world ; and every thing 
 was favorable to the announcement and rapid spread of 
 a message from heaven, provided that the message itself 
 should come properly authenticated. The message did 
 come, and it was properly authenticated ; and the pecu- 
 liar suitableness of the time and place selected was seen 
 in the very rapid spread of the Gospel over almost half 
 the globe, 
 
 There is another topic of internal evidence of the truth 
 of Christianity. The character and administration of 
 God, as exhibited in the Bible, correspond precisely with 
 the same character and administration as exhibited in the 
 light of nature. They both exhibit God as most benevo- 
 lent in his character, but most decided and efficient in 
 his government. In both, we find him providing most 
 fully for the happiness of his creatures ; but in both we 
 see him frowning upon sin with an awful severity of 
 judgment. This is a fundamental point, and it ought to 
 
 8
 
 170 VOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll. t. 
 
 Language of nature ; Of the Bible. The sufferer in the hospital. 
 
 be fully understood. Let us look then at God as he re- 
 veals himself in his providence, compared with the views 
 of him which the Bible presents. 
 
 i See yonder child, beginning life with streams of en- 
 joyment coming in at every sense ; he is so formed that 
 every thing he has to do is a source of delight he has 
 an eye ; God has contrived it most ingeniously, to be the 
 means by which pleasure comes in every moment to 
 him he has an ear, so intricately formed that no ana- 
 tomist or physiologist has yet been able to understand 
 its mysteries. God has so planned it, that he take. 3 in 
 with delight the sounds which float around him. How 
 many times, and in how many ways, does he find enjoy- 
 ment by its instrumentality! The tones of conversa- 
 tion the evening song of his mother the hum of the 
 insect the noise of the storm the rumbling of distant 
 thunder; for how many different lut delightful emo- 
 tions has the Creator provided ! So with all the other 
 senses ; and now, after you have examined in this way 
 the whole structure, body and mind, of this being, follow 
 1. m out to a summer's walk, and see how a benevolent 
 Creator pours upon him, from all the scenery of nature, 
 an almost overwhelming tide of delight. God smiles 
 upon him in the aspect of the blue heavens, in the ver- 
 dure of the fields, in the balmy breath of air upon his 
 cheek and in the very powers and faculties themselves, 
 which he has so formed that every motion is delight, 
 and every pulsatioVi a thrill of pleasure. Such a revela- 
 tion does nature make to us of the character of God, and 
 of his feelings toward his creatures ; and the Bible cor- 
 responds " God is love." 
 
 But nature speaks to us sometimes in another tone. 
 Let this child grow up, and abandon himself to vice and 
 crime, and after the lapse of a few years let us see him 
 Again. How changed will be the scene ! To see him, you 
 must follow me to the hospital-room of an alms-house ;
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES Of CHRISTIANITY. 171 
 
 The awful misery which vice sometimes brings upon its votaries. 
 
 for he has given himself up to vice, and endured suffering 
 as a vagabond in the streets, until society can no longer 
 endure to witness his misery, and they send him to an asy- 
 lum out of their sight, in mercy both to themselves and 
 to him. He lies upon his bed of straw in uninterrupted 
 agony his bones are gnaweJ, and his flesh corroded 
 by disease every motion is torment, every pulsation is 
 agony ; for the God who has so formed the human con- 
 stitution, that in innocence, and in the health which ge- 
 nerally attends it, all is happiness and peace, has yet 
 so formed it, that vice can bring upon it sufferings awful 
 sufferings, of which no one but the miserable victim can 
 conceive. I once saw in an alms-house, a sufferer whose 
 picture has been in my imagination while writing the 
 above. I have used general terms in my description. I 
 might have given a much more detailed and vivid pic- 
 ture of his condition, but it was too shocking. Were my 
 readers to see the scene, even through the medium of a 
 description of ordinary clearness, the image of it would 
 haunt them day and night. As I stood by the side of this 
 man, and reflected that God had brought him into that 
 condition, and that God was holding him there, and pro- 
 bably would hold him in the same awful suffering while 
 life should remain, I could not help saying to myself, 
 "With how efficient and decided a moral Governor have 
 we to do !" No man would have held this miserable being 
 in his sufferings a moment : the superintendent of the 
 nospital would have released him instantly, if it had been 
 in his power ; but God had the powep, and he held the 
 guilty breaker of his law under the dreadful weight of its 
 penalty. Man shrinks from witnessing suffering, even 
 where it is necessary to inflict it : but this feeling will 
 not measure, and it has no power to limit God's dreadful 
 energy in the punishment of sin. All nature tells us so, 
 and the language that the Bible uses is the same " God 
 is a consuming fire." Our feelings can no more content-
 
 172 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7 
 
 Jehovah just, as well as merciful. Butler's Analogy. 
 
 plate with composure, as our hearts are now constituted, 
 the judgments which the Bible denounces against the 
 wicked in another world, than they can the agonies of 
 delirium tremens, or the gnawings of the diseases with 
 which God overwhelms the dissipated and the vile. la 
 both cases there is a severity whose justice we must ad- 
 mit, but whose consequences we cannot calmly follow. 
 If any one thinks thai I describe the character of God 
 in too dark and gloomy colors, I have only to say, 
 that all nature and all revelation unite in painting God in 
 the most dark and gloomy colors possible, as he exhibits 
 himself toward those who peisist in breaking his law. 
 He is love to his friend", but he is a consuming fire to 
 his foes ; and every one ojght to go to the judgment, ex- 
 pecting to find a Monarch thus decided and efficient in 
 the execution of his laws, presiding there. 
 
 "The Lord reigr.eth, let the eari'i rejoice" says the 
 Psalmist ; and again he says, " The Lord reigneth, let 
 the people tremble." We have abundant evidence, both 
 in nature and revelation, that we must rejoice with trem- 
 bling, under the government of God ; for that govern- 
 ment is most efficient and decided against sin and we 
 are sinners. 
 
 There are many other points of correspondence be- 
 tween the character and administration of God, as de- 
 scribed in the Bible, and as exhibited in the constitution 
 of nature ; but I must not stop now to describe them. 
 Butler, in an admirable work usually called Butler's Ana- 
 Jogy, has explored this ground fully ; and I would re- 
 commend to all my readers who tuke an interest in this 
 subject, to obtain and study that work. I say study it, 
 for it is not a work to be merely read, in the ordinary 
 sense of that term ; it must be most thoroughly studied, 
 and studied too by minds in no inconsiderable degree 
 mature, in order to be fully nppreciatcd. 
 
 I have endeavored, by thus mentioning several points
 
 Cll. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 173 
 
 HI. Experimental evidence. 
 
 in which evidence may be found in favor of the truth of 
 the Scriptures, from an examination of their contents, to 
 illustrate the nature of the Internal Evidence. I have not 
 designed to present the argument fully.* Having accom- 
 plished, however, the purpose intended, I now proceed to 
 the third head I proposed. 
 
 III. EXPERIMENTAL EVIDENCE. 
 
 The Experimental Evidence of the truth of Christia 
 nity is its moral power over the human heart. This is 
 the most convincing of all. It is direct. There is no la- 
 borious examination of witnesses to bring the truth to us 
 no groping in the dimness of antient times, and strain 
 ing the sight to ascertain the forms of objects and the cha- 
 racters of occurrences there. All is before us. We can 
 see distinctly, for the proof is near. We can examine it 
 minutely and leisurely, for it is constantly recurring. 
 
 I have remarked, that I considered this species of evi- 
 dence far more calculated to make a strong impression 
 upon the mind than either of the two preceding heads I 
 have described, on account of the difficulty, on the part 
 of those whose lives are not devoted to literary pursuits, 
 of looking back eighteen hundred years, and judging, 
 with confidence, of evidence in regard to events that oc- 
 curred then. But I have often heard it remarked, by men 
 amply qualified to investigate such subjects, that the 
 power of the Bible, as they have often seen it exerted, in 
 elevating to virtue and to happiness some miserable vic- 
 tim of vice and crime, has made a far stronger impression 
 upon them, in favor of its divine origin, than any exami- 
 
 * I would recommend to those of my readers who are interested in 
 this part of my subject, the examination of the following works: Chal- 
 raer's Evidences of Christianity; Paley's do. ; Alexander's do. ; Les- 
 lie's Short Method with Deists Paley's Horae Paulinae; Butler's 
 Analogy.
 
 174 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 7. 
 
 Case of sickness supposed. Medicine. Proof of it 
 
 nation of the labored arguments of learned men. Now 
 this must be so, not only in the case of Christianity, but 
 in all similar cases. 
 
 Suppose that some dreadful plague should break out 
 in London, and after raging for many months, suspend- 
 ing all business, driving away from the city all who 
 could fly, and carrying consternation and death into all 
 the families that should remain, suppose that, after all 
 this, the news should arrive, that in some distant part of 
 the earth a remedy had been discovered for the disease. 
 We will imagine it to have been in China. Perhaps the 
 same disease had broken out in former times at Canton, 
 and some plant growing in that vicinity had been found 
 to be a specific against it : it would cure the sick and pro- 
 tect the healthy. The government of Great Britain con- 
 cludes to send a ship to China to obtain a supply of the 
 remedy. After waiting the proper time for the voyage, a 
 telegraph announces the arrival of the ship on her return. 
 She sails up the Thames, comes to anchor, and soon the 
 remedy for which they have all waited so anxiously is in 
 full circulation about the city. Now, what will interest the 
 people of London most in such a case ? Will it be an ex- 
 amination of the officers of that skip, in order to satisfy 
 themselves that they are not imposing some spurious ar- 
 ticle on the nation ? Will they lay aside the remedy itself, 
 and allow the sick to die, and the well to be attacked, 
 while they examine the proof that this ship has actually 
 been to China, and that her supercargo was really faithful 
 in obtaining the identical article for which he was sent ? 
 No all such inquiries, if they are made at all, would be 
 left to the few official agents by whom the ship had been 
 employed. The mass of the population would turn them- 
 selves to the remedy itself, with the eager question, 
 "Will this medicine cure?" And, notwithstanding any 
 scepticism or opposition of a few who might be interest- 
 ed in sustaining some other mode of treatment, the im-
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 17B 
 
 The Mother. 
 
 ported remedy, if found successful upon trial, would 
 soon be in universal use among the sick all over the city. 
 
 Now, shall a man who is still under the power and do- 
 minion of sin, with this great remedy (which has saved, 
 and is continually saving thousands all around him,) en- 
 tirely within his reach, shall he waste his time in specu- 
 lations and inquiries in regard to the manner in which 
 Christianity came into the world, instead of flying to it 
 at once as the remedy for all his sin and suffering ? No : 
 come at once and try the remedy. It restores others to 
 health and happiness, and it will restore you. Come and 
 be saved by it, and then you may inquire at your leisure 
 how it came into the world. 
 
 In regard to the case supposed above, I have spoken 
 of the scepticism or opposition of those who might be in- 
 terested in some other mode of treatment. Suppose one 
 of these men, interested in the continuance of the disease, 
 and inhuman enough to desire on this account to perpe- 
 tuate the misery of his fellows, should come into some 
 wretched tenement in a crowded part of the city, and 
 should find there one or two inmates under all the 
 power of the disease. They are children. The mother 
 has been away to some public office from which the re- 
 medy is distributed to the poor, and has obtained a sup- 
 ply for her dying boys. As she comes to their bedside, 
 and begins with trembling joy to administer it, her hand 
 is arrested by the visiter, who says to her, " Stop ; how 
 do you know that this is a real remedy for this disease. 
 I believe it is all an imposition. That ship never came 
 from China. I believe the captain and crew united in an 
 attempt to impose upon the community ; at any rate, you 
 have yet no evidence to the contrary. You have not ex- 
 amined her papers you have seen no official documents 
 you have heard no witnesses. If you are wise you 
 Trill look into this subject a little before you place your
 
 176 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 The mother and her sick sons. The unbeliever. 
 
 confidence in a remedy which will probably, after all, 
 prove only imposture and delusion." 
 
 What would be the reply ? The mother, if she should 
 stop to say any thing, would say this : 
 
 " I have not time to examine any documents or wit- 
 nesses ; my children are dying. Beside, this medicine 
 has cured hundreds in this city, and is curing hundreds 
 more. Nay, I was myself sick, and it cured rne. That is 
 the evidence I rely upon. I believe it will save them, 
 and there is nothing else to try." 
 
 That is in substance what she would say, and they who 
 wish to be saved from sin should say the same. You suf- 
 fer now under this disease, and you must suffer more 
 hereafter, and nothing but Christianity pretends to be 
 able to save. It is successful, wherever it is tried. Now 
 suppose an infidel, or a vicious man, interested in perpe- 
 tuating sin in this world, and inhuman enough to be will- 
 ing that the sufferings of sin should continue to burden 
 his fellows, should come and say to you, " This religion 
 is delusion it is all an imposture." You need not go 
 with him into any examination of documents and witness- 
 es ; you ought only to say, " Christianity saves others, 
 and makes them virtuous and happy and I hope it will 
 save me." 
 
 But I must present more distinctly the evidence thai 
 Christianity has power to rescue from sin, and that it 
 exhibits this power now in the world. " And now how 
 shall I show this 1" thought I, when I first began to re- 
 flect on the way in which I should treat this part of my 
 subject. " How shall I present most clearly and vividly 
 to the young, the moral power of Christianity ?" I thought 
 first of the elevated rank in knowledge, in civilization, to 
 which all Christian nations hai! attained, and concluded to 
 show, if I could, that the passions and sins of men always, 
 when left to themselves, loaded communities with a bur- 
 den which kept the mind from expanding and the arts of life
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 177 
 
 Power of Christianity. Particular cae. 
 
 from flourishing, and bound down the whole in barbarism 
 or in subjection to despotic power. Among the thousands 
 of nations which this earth has seen, there have not been 
 more than half a dozen exceptions to this. Christianity 
 controls these passions, and purifies communities to such 
 an extent that mind is free ; and then the energies with 
 which God has provided them freely expand. Religion 
 has taken off the pressure which had imprisoned them ; 
 and thus Christian nations have arisen to a rank, and 
 power, and freedom, which no other communities have 
 ever attained. There is not a savage Christian nation 
 on the globe. A savage Christian ! It is a contradiction 
 in terms. 
 
 But I thought that such general views and statements 
 were not calculated to produce so distinct and clear an 
 impression upon the mind, especially upo.n the young; 
 and then I thought that I might point my readers to par- 
 ticular cases which have occurred, undoubtedly, within 
 the observation of every one. There is not a village in 
 our land where are not to be seen some of the triumphs 
 of the Gospel. There is a vicious man reclaimed, or a 
 careless, selfish, ungovernable young man made humble, 
 and faithful, and docile, by the power of the Bible. Such 
 cases are within the observation of every one ; and if each 
 one of my readers would look at some such case which 
 has occurred within his own immediate reach, and exa- 
 mine all its circumstances, he would find in it an over- 
 whelming proof that the Bible is indeed a remedy for sin. 
 But the difficulty is, that such cases are so common that 
 they lo?e all their power to impress us. The cases of reform 
 from vice and sin, now continually taking place in every 
 truly Christian country, would be regarded with admira- 
 tion, were they solitary ; but they are common, very com- 
 mon, and thus produce a comparatively faint impression. 
 
 But to show distinctly the efficacy of this remedy for 
 sin, I shall point you to its operation in particular cases. 
 
 8*
 
 178 roUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 State Prison. Old and new system of discipline. 
 
 And in choosing the cases to present, I have selected 
 some where the disease had indeed made great progress, 
 but which are in other respects very common. They are 
 both cases of convicts in a State Prison. I might per- 
 haps have selected narrations far more interesting and 
 striking in their attendant circumstances, but I have cho- 
 sen to present those which may be taken as a fair speci- 
 men of the ordinary effects of the Bible in saving from 
 sin. My object is utility, and it is therefore far better to 
 secure sound logic than to bring forward a romantic 
 story. 
 
 The reason I take the cases of convicts is, because I 
 am now considering Christianity in regard to its power 
 to heal the disease, sin ; of course, the more violent the 
 form of the disease, the more clear is the exhibition of 
 power in the remedy which cures it. The prisons of our 
 country may be considered as hospitals, moral hospitajs, 
 where those whose diseases have become so violent and 
 malignant that it is no longer safe to allow them to go at 
 large in society, are shut up, so that they can injure no 
 one, at least for a time. It has been, and is now the prac- 
 tice in many countries, to shut up these miserable victims 
 together, and leave them to themselves. Of course they 
 grew worse and worse. The practice is as absurd as it 
 would be to send a hundred patients, in all the stages of 
 fever, consumption, and plague, into one great crowded 
 hospital together, with no physician, no medicine, and 
 no attendants but turnkeys, and there to leave them, each 
 one by the unobstructed intercommunication conveying 
 his own peculiar infection to all the rest ; the whole ex- 
 posed to every cause that can aggravate disease, and thus 
 forming one living mass of pestilence and corruption. 
 Such have been a great many prisons, and those who en- 
 tered them came out far worse than they went in. 
 
 Some philanthropists formed, some years ago, the plan 
 of visiting these prisons, and carrying the Bible there,
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 179 
 
 Stories of the convicts. The disobedient son. 
 
 believing that its moral power would be great enough to 
 cure even those desperate cases of disease and it has 
 succeeded. A vast number of the most abandoned men 
 have been entirely reformed by it. I do not mean that 
 they have pretended to be reformed while in the prison, 
 but have proved themselves reformed by their good con- 
 duct after having been restored to society, when the time 
 of their imprisonment had expired. 
 
 The account of the first case I shall mention was ta- 
 ken down from the individual's own lips. There is no- 
 thing extraordinary in it, except that he was a very bad 
 man. I give the account in his own language, except that 
 I have in one or two instances inserted a few words to 
 make the sense more clear, and I have omitted some of 
 the very frank confessions of his vices and crimes, which 
 could not be properly introduced into this book. 
 
 THE FIRST CONVICT'S STORY. 
 
 " When I had been in prison about eighteen months 
 I began to think of my past ways, and to see that I had 
 sinned against God to think about dying, and where I 
 should go vhen I die and appear before God. When I 
 first came here, I did not think any thing about dying ; 
 I rtad no just idea of the Holy Scriptures, and did not 
 know any thing of the Lord. I first began to think about 
 my former life when I had been here about eighteen 
 months. Once I went off from all my friends, and never 
 let any of them know where I was going. I led one of 
 my brothers away, and it was the means of his death. Af- 
 ter 1 lost my brother I went home again, and my father 
 blamed me for leading him away. I had been two years 
 from home, and my parents said that I was the means of 
 my brother's death. They tried to make me steady, and 
 get me work at home then ; but I wouldn't be steady more 
 than a few months before I went off again. My father told
 
 180 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch 7 
 
 Conversation. 
 
 me I was fitting myself for State's Prison. I went away 
 however, and it was only about two months before I com- 
 mitted my crime and was put into jail. That was the 
 first time I ever saw the inside of Prison. I often used to 
 think of my brother after I came into the prison. A great 
 many nights I used to see a black coffin placed before 
 me, and hear a voice telling me I must go soon and fol- 
 low him. I not only thought of these things, but all my 
 wicked thoughts and all my actions were presented before 
 me what I had done and how I had walked in the sight 
 of the Lord. I used to be a very vicious man, and all the 
 places where I had been would appear before me. And 
 I used to be a violent blasphemer too, and a riotous per- 
 son ; and I saw a sign which said, this is the road adul- 
 terous persons and blasphemers go. 
 
 " After I had thought about my wicked life, I felt that I 
 had incurred the holy displeasure of the Lord, and de- 
 served all that he could inflict upon me. I thought that I 
 could not suffer too much. I could then see the hand of 
 the Lord, how it had followed me in every place where 
 I had been. I found that it was the law of the Lord 
 that brought me here for sins which I had committed 
 against God, and not against my fellow-men." Here the 
 gentleman who was visiting him asked him, 
 " How does your heart appear to you now ?" 
 " My heart appears at times set upon evil ; but then 
 again, sometimes I feel that I shall get to heaven ; and 
 then again, I feel very much discouraged. Whenever 
 wicked thoughts arise in my heart, I sometimes feel that 
 the Lord has given me up. Then again, there is some- 
 thing to enliven my feelings, and all my wicked thoughts 
 go away ; my worldly thoughts will be drawn away, and 
 my mind will be on heavenly things. I did not know 
 what it meant when my heart used to burn within me, 
 until I asked my teacher in Srbbath School, if man's heart 
 would be warm when he ha'V right feelings of heart."
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY, 181 
 
 His struggles with sin. The story true. 
 
 " Do you find temptation to sin now ?" asked the gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " What do you do ?" 
 
 "I trust in the Lord." 
 
 "Do you yield to your evil passions and lusts now?" 
 
 "I have, sometimes. I feel now that the Lord will 
 keep me from them. There is nothing that causes me to 
 grieve so as that very thing." 
 
 "Does it take away your happiness?" 
 
 " It did for a time." 
 
 ' What security can you have, that when you go out, 
 you will not do just as you have done?" 
 
 " All my hope is in the Lord. I rely upon the mercy 
 of the Lord to keep me. Of myself, I can do nothing ; 
 I rely upon the mercy of the Lord. 
 
 "Was you a drunken man?" 
 
 " I have been intoxicated a number of times, but 1 was 
 never much given to it." 
 
 In the course of the conversation the convict said : 
 
 " I want to ask if, after men have repented of their 
 sins, there will ever be times when they will give up to 
 their lusts ?" 
 
 " It is a very bad sign if they do," replied the gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " Once, when I was greatly tempted, I wept before ilie 
 Lord night after night, and there was a man appeared to 
 me in the room, and said to me, " Thy sins are pardon- 
 ed ;" and since that I have been no more tempted, and I 
 think it was to show rne that I had trusted too much to 
 my own heart. I thought I had been so long without 
 any temptation that I was fairly weaned. I thought so ; 
 but then I was tempted, and now I know I trusted more 
 to my own heart than I did to the Lord." 
 
 Such was the substance of the conversation, taken 
 down by the gentleman on the spot, and copied by me,
 
 182 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Second story. Nature of ardent spirit. 
 
 for this book, from his original record. And I beg that 
 my readers will not forget that my object in presenting 
 it, is not to offer them a remarkable or an interesting sto- 
 ry. There is nothing remarkable in it, and, excepting 
 for the purpose of my argument, nothing particularly in- 
 teresting. It is, however, a remarkably fair specimen of 
 the ordinary operation of religious truth, in convicting 
 of sin and bringing man back to his duty. 
 
 But I must postpone the comments upon this story 
 which I intend to make, until I have given the second 
 narrative. The reason why I present two is, because no 
 one that I could obtain exhibits, so fully as I could wish, 
 all the important points I wish to bring to view. 
 
 SECOND CONVICT'S STORY. 
 
 There lived in one of tne middle states some years 
 ago, a man whom I shall call W. I suppress his real 
 name. His character was bad, and he lived with another 
 man whose character was worse than his own. 
 
 His employer having some quarrel with another man, 
 wanted W. to kill him. He endeavored for five or six 
 months to induce him to do it, but he did not succeed. 
 W. however showed a degree of indecision about it 
 which encouraged his wicked employer to persevere. A 
 good man would have refused an application like that in 
 such terms and in such a manner that it never would have 
 been renewed. 
 
 The employer however understood his character, and, 
 like all other bad men who endeavor to induce others to 
 commit crime, he knew of an agent which would effec- 
 tually assist him to prevail upon W. to do the fatal deed. 
 That agent was ardent spirit the universal stimulus to 
 crime. He accordingly gave it to him, not in such quan- 
 tities as completely to intoxicate him, but moderately, 
 only enough to destroy what little conscience he had.
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 183 
 
 W.'s crime. Learning to read in prison. First lesson. 
 
 and yet leave him, in a considerable degree, the posses- 
 sion of his faculties. 
 
 After he had drank the rum, he went and laid down 
 to sleep in the skirts of a wood, where they expected to 
 commit the murder. In a little while another man, who 
 had been employed to assist in this work, came and woke 
 him up, and said to him, " If we mean to do any thing, 
 we had better do it now." W. accordingly rose, and they 
 went together. When they came to their victim, W. shot 
 at him, and then his accomplice took the gun and beat 
 him over the head till he was dead. 
 
 Two persons were hung for this crime, and W. was 
 sentenced to the State prison for a long time. The man 
 whom they had killed was a very bad man ; but as W. 
 afterward said, that was no cloak for him. 
 
 When W. came to the prison, he was very ignorant ; 
 he did not know his own age accurately, and he could 
 not read. There was in that prison, however, a very faith- 
 ful chaplain, who knowing that the Bible alone could be 
 the means of reforming the miserable convicts, always 
 placed that book before them immediately. When they 
 could not read, he used to teach them. I have been told 
 that this course has been taken to teach them ; the first 
 lesson was the first word in the Bible 7-77. 
 
 " That word is In," the teacher would say to the 
 prisoner in his cell " Can you see how many letters 
 there are in it?" 
 
 " Two," the prisoner would reply, after examining it. 
 
 " Yes," answers the teacher : " The first letter is 
 called f; the second, n. These letters are very common 
 in the Bible, and in all reading; see if you can find ano- 
 ther n anywhere on this page." 
 
 The prisoner then would look very attentively along 
 the lines until he found the letter required. If he made 
 a mistake, and found an m or an r instead, the teacher 
 would explain the difference, and call his attention more
 
 184 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Effects of the Bible upon W. Sins against God. 
 
 fully to the true form of the n. He would also explain the 
 difference between the capital and small t, and show his 
 pupil that he must expect to find the small i, generally. 
 He would then leave him, asking him to find as many of 
 these letters as he could before the teacher should come 
 again. The next lesson would be the next word, the; 
 and thus the pupil would go on slowly, spelling his way, 
 until he had learned to read for himself. 
 
 The attempt to learn to read was proposed to W. and 
 he commenced it; and although considerably advanced 
 in life, he made no little progress in his work. He was 
 soon able to read considerably; and as the truths of the 
 word of God came home to his mind they produced their 
 usual effects there ; they led him to see his sins, and to 
 feel them ; and they led him to come to the Savior for 
 pardon. His whole character was changed ; but I must 
 allow him to describe this change in his own words. 
 
 These words were taken down by the same gentleman 
 whom I have mentioned before. He visited him in pri- 
 son, and after first conversing with him in regard to the 
 crime for which he had been committed, asked him, 
 
 " Well, W. how do this and all your other sins now 
 appear to you?" 
 
 *' Very great," said he ; " but this does not appear so 
 great as all my other sins against God cursing and 
 swearing, and getting drunk. When I first began to re- 
 flect in my cell, I saw my sins so great that I felt I could 
 not be forgiven. I was sitting down one day at my work 
 in the prison, and the chaplain came along and asked me 
 my crime. I told him. 
 
 " That,' said he, ' is one of the greatest crimes ; but 
 then you may remember David's sin, and he was for- 
 given. Let your crime be as great as it will, pray to 
 God, and put your trust in him, and you shall find rest to 
 your soul.' 
 
 " He told me also, that if I could not read, he would
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 185 
 
 W.'s mental suffering. 
 
 visit me in my cell, and put me in the way. I shall ever 
 love him while God gives me breath ; I shall love the 
 chaplain, for he put me in the way to obtain the salvation 
 of my soul ; he made me promise him faithfully that I 
 would go to God, and try to find mercy; and yet, mas- 
 ter, I had doubt in my heart my sins were so heavy 
 whether I should be forgiven. The chaplain soon left 
 me, and I went into my cell and poured out my heart 
 to God to have mercy on me. The more I prayed the 
 more miserable I grew. Heavier and heavier were my 
 sins. 
 
 " The next day Mr. B. came along, and I asked him to 
 read a chapter to me; and, as God would have it, he 
 turned to the 55th chapter of Isaiah. It said, "Every 
 one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that 
 hath no money, come ye, buy wine and milk without 
 price." He read along to where the Prophet says, "Let 
 the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his 
 thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and he will 
 have mercy upon him, and to our God, for he will abun- 
 dantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, 
 neither are your ways my ways, saiih the Lord. For a 
 the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways 
 higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your 
 thoughts." 
 
 " I found this gave me great encouragement to go on 
 to pray, to see if I could find relief from all my troubles 
 the load of sin that was on my heart. I thought and 
 prayed, and the more I prayed the more wretched 1 
 grew the heavier my sins appeared to be. 
 
 " A night or two after that the chaplain came to my 
 cell and asked me how I felt. I told him my sins were 
 greater than I could bear so guilty so heavy. He ask- 
 ed me if I thought praying would make my sins any less, 
 I gave him no answer. He soon left me, and I went again 
 to prayer. I was almost fit to expire. In all my sorrows
 
 186 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch 7. 
 
 His prayer. His way of finding the 61st Psalm. 
 
 I had not a right sorrow. My sorrow was because I had 
 sinned against man. 
 
 " The Sunday following, just after I had carried my 
 dinner into my cell, I put my dinner down, and I went 
 to prayer. I rose, and just as I rose from my prayer the 
 Chaplain was at the door. ' We are all guilty creatures,' 
 he said to me, 'and we cannot be saved except God, for 
 Christ's sake, will save us. If we pray and go to God, 
 we must go in the name of Jesus Christ ; if we expect to 
 be saved, we must be saved through the blood and right- 
 eousness of Jesus Christ.' Then I picked up encourage- 
 ment. 
 
 " ' The sins which you have committed,' he went on, 
 ' are against your fellow creatures, but they are much more 
 against God.' Now I never knew before that they were 
 against God. When the chaplain left me I went to 
 prayer again. I could eat nothing that day. I did not 
 eat a mouthful. 
 
 " I recollected at that time that a minister had told me, 
 whenever I had a chapter read, to have the 51st Psalm. 
 I could not see any body to get to read it, and how to 
 find it I did not know, and the Sunday following, before 
 the keeper unlocked the door, I rose up and I went to 
 prayer, and I prayed, ' O Lord, thou knowest I am igno- 
 rant, brought up in ignorance. Thou knowest my bring- 
 ing up. Nothing is too hard for thee to do. May it please 
 thee, O Lord, to show me that chapter that I may read it 
 with understanding.' I rose from prayer, and went to 
 ray Bible and took it up. I began at the first Psalm, and 
 turned over and counted every Psalm, and it appeared to 
 me that God was with me, and I counted right to the 51st 
 Psalm. I could read a little, and I begun to spell H-a-v-e 
 m-e-r-c-y &c. ; I looked over the Psalm and spelt it, and 
 read it, and then put the Bible down, and fell upon my 
 knees and prayed : 'Have mercy upon me; O God, ac- 
 cording unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 187 
 
 His relief. 
 
 my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from mine ini- 
 quities,and cleanse me from my sins, for my sin is ever be- 
 fore me. Against thee, thee only have I sinned, and done 
 this evil in thy sight ; that thou mightest be justified when 
 thou speakest, and clear when thou judgest.' 
 
 "When I came to the words, 'Deliver me from blood- 
 guiltiness,' I was struck dumb. I could not say any more 
 at that time. I fell upon my knees and prayed to God to 
 have mercy upon me, for Christ's sake. But I only grew 
 more and more miserable. The load of my sins was hea- 
 vier and heavier. 
 
 " All that I had ever done came plain and open in my 
 sight, and I was led to see that I must perish ; there was 
 no help for me ; all my sin was upon my own head.'' 
 
 Such is the miserable criminal's account of the suffer- 
 ing to which he was brought by the sense of guilt which 
 the Bible was the means of fastening upon his soul. He 
 continued in this state for some time, until at last, as he 
 himself describes it, one day, when he was praying in his 
 cell, his burden of guilt was removed. He felt that he 
 might hope for pardon through Jesus Christ. The reliei 
 which this feeling brought over his mind seems to have 
 been almost indescribable. Every thing wore a new as- 
 pect ; even the gloomy prison seemed a cheerful and 
 happy place. His expressions of joy would appear al- 
 most extravagant to any person not sufficiently acquaint- 
 ed with the human mind to understand how the whole as- 
 pect of external objects will be controlled by the emo- 
 tions which reign in the heart. W. concluded his narra- 
 tion in these words : 
 
 " And ever since that, master, this place where I have 
 been confined, has been to me more like a palace than a 
 prison every thing goes agreeable. I find I have a de- 
 eeitful heart, but Jesus tells me, if I lack knowledge he 
 will always lend, if I cast my care on Jesus and not for- 
 get to pray. It is my prayer morning and evening, that
 
 188 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Close of the convicts' stories. Charleston n State Prison. 
 
 I may hold out. If I die here, let me die, Lord, in thine 
 arms. I have great reason to bless this institution, and 
 every stone in it." 
 
 Now although it is not very common to obtain, in writ- 
 ing, accounts of changes of character among convicts so 
 full and minute as this, yet the cases themselves are very 
 common ; so common, that where a prison is regulated in 
 such a manner that the prisoners are not exposed to evil 
 influence from each other, and the Bible has the oppor- 
 tunity to try its power, the whole aspect of the prison is 
 changed. After I had written the above I was convers- 
 ing upon the subject of this chapter with a gentleman 
 much interested in the improvement of prisons, and he 
 asked me if I had ever visited the prison at Charlestown, 
 Massachusetts. I told him I had not. " If you will go 
 over with me, Sabbath morning," said he, " and visit the 
 Sabbath School formed there, you will see the moral 
 power of the Bible far more distinctly than you can by 
 any such single descriptions as these." 
 
 I of course gladly availed myself of the opportunist 
 to accompany him. We walked accordingly on Sabbath 
 morning, at the appointed hour, over one of those long 
 bridges which connect the Peninsula of Boston with the 
 main land. The prison is situated in Charlestown, on a 
 point of land near the Charles river. The yard extends 
 to the water's edge, to afford facilities for lading and un- 
 lading the boats which transport stone ; hammering stone 
 for building being the principal business at which the 
 convicts are employed. 
 
 When we reached the outer gate of the prison yard 
 we pushed it open, and on closing itself after we had en- 
 tered, it struck a bell, which gave notice to the keeper of 
 the inner gate that some one was coming. This inner 
 gate, made of strong iron bars, was opened for us, and 
 we passed up the steps of a large stone building, through
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 189 
 
 Old building. Crowded night rooms. Arms. Prison yard. 
 
 which lay our passage to the yard beyond. This build- 
 ing consists of one large central edifice, occupied by the 
 family of the warden and by some of the keepers, and 
 two extensive wings. In these wings the prisoners were 
 formerly confined, in rooms of moderate size ; many 
 convicts however being lodged in one room. This was 
 the old system of prison discipline, of which I have al- 
 ready spoken, and the prisoners almost invariably grew 
 worse instead of better under it. A young man, perhaps 
 just beginning a career of vice, or overcome for the first 
 time by some strong temptation, was placed during the 
 long hours of the night in one of these crowded rooms. 
 Of course he grew worse by such an exposure. Those 
 who had grown old in sin instructed him in all their 
 wicked arts. He became familiarized to infamy ; and 
 even while under sentence for one crime, often formed 
 plans for others, to be executed as soon as he should 
 escape into society again. The consequence was, that 
 these night rooms, in the wings of this great building, 
 were, as they were often called, schools of vice and 
 crime. 
 
 The first room we entered in this edifice seemed to be 
 a sort of an office, and a row of swords and guns, which 
 were arranged there ready to be used at a moment's no- 
 tice, proclaimed the intention of the keepers to resort to 
 the most decided measures if the prisoners should make 
 any attempt to escape. We passed through this room, 
 and one or two others, every narrow passage being 
 guarded by a formidable door of iron, which a turnkey 
 opened and shut for us as we passed. 
 
 We entered a spacious and beautiful yard in the rear 
 of this building. I say it was beautiful, because it struck 
 the eye most pleasantly by its expression of neatness and 
 industry. It was spacious, and extensive shops were 
 arranged aiound it, in which the convicts were accustom- 
 ed to work ; and upon the smooth and level floor, I had
 
 130 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Chapel. Prisoners going to Sabbath School. 
 
 almost said, of the area inclosed, were many large and 
 beautiful blocks of hammered granite, the fruits of the 
 prisoners' industry. 
 
 We walked across the yard and came to a long stone 
 building one story high, behind which rose another spa- 
 cious edifice of stone. In this last were the prisoners' 
 colls. lam not certain that I shall be able to convey to 
 my young readers a very accurate idea of the arrange- 
 ment and of the interior of these buildings, but I am very 
 desirous of doing so, as it will give them clearer ideas of 
 what I intend to present, in regard to the moral aspects 
 of such an institution as this. Will you not then make 
 an effort to picture distinctly to your minds what I am 
 describing? 
 
 The long low building which I have mentioned, had a 
 strong iron door in the centre, and from that door a pas- 
 sage-way extended across to the great new prison be- 
 yond. On one side of this passage-way was a large room 
 appropriated to preparing food for the prisoners, and on 
 the other side was the chapel. When we came up to the 
 iron door in the front of the building, we found several 
 gentlemen, who had come over from Boston to act as 
 teachers in the Sabbath School, waiting for admission. 
 They were waiting until the prisoners themselves should 
 have passed into the chapel ; for when we arrived, they 
 were coming in a long procession, from their cells in the 
 rear, into this building, each one bringing the tin vessel 
 from which he had eaten his breakfast, and laying it up- 
 on a sort of counter as he passed on into the chapel. We 
 could see this by looking through an opening in the iron 
 door. 
 
 When all the prisoners had gone into the chapel, the 
 outer door was opened by a keeper, and we all passed in; 
 the heavy door was swung to behind us, and its strong 
 bolt secured. We turned from the entry into that end of 
 the building which was used as a chapel. There was an
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES Of CHRISTIANITY 191 
 
 Asjiect of the School. Prisoners' dress. Exercises, 
 
 aisle passing up the centre, on each side of which were 
 seats half tilled with the convicts. The chaplain stood 
 in a pulpit at the farther end, and on each side of him 
 were the teachers, gentlemen from Boston, who had come 
 to assist these unhappy men to read and to understand 
 the word of God. 
 
 It was a most delightful May morning, and the whole 
 aspect of the room, as I looked over it from rny stand 
 near the chaplain, was that of cheerfulness and happiness, 
 not of gloom. The sun beamed in brightly at the win- 
 dows, and the walls of the room of the purest white, the 
 neat benches, and the nicely sanded floor, gave a most 
 pleasant aspect to the whole. 
 
 The congregation presented a singular and striking ap- 
 pearance. Had it not been for thei" dress I might have 
 forgotten that I was in a prison. But they were all dress- 
 ed in coarse clothes of two colors, one side o the body 
 being red, and the other of some different hue. This is 
 the uniform of crime. The object of it is, I suppose, not 
 to mortify them with a perpetual badge of disgrace, but to 
 expose any one who should by any means escape, to im- 
 mediate detection by the inhabitants of the country 
 around. 
 
 "Is it possible," thought I, as I looked over this most 
 interesting assembly, " that all these men have come vo- 
 luntarily this morning to read and study the word of 
 God 1" Yes, that was the fact. This exercise was entire- 
 ly voluntary ; and out of two or three hundred who had 
 been condemned for crime, about one half were accus- 
 tomed to come voluntarily on Sabbath morning to study 
 the book which proclaims from heaven free forgiveness 
 of every sin. 
 
 The chaplain opened the school with prayer. He then 
 explained to the teachers that the plan to be pursued was 
 simply to hear the prisoners read the Bible, and explain 
 it* contents to them He desired them to confine their con-
 
 192 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 A class. Conversation w'uli a convict. 
 
 versation strictly tu the business in hand, and requested 
 the prisoners not to ask, and the teachers not to answer 
 an} p questions relating to other subjects. He then distri- 
 buted the teachers around the room, giving each one a 
 small class. Three convicts fell to my charge. 
 
 I opened almost at random in the New Testament, and 
 let them read in rotation; and more apparently humble 
 and docile students of the Bible I never saw. They read 
 slowly and with hesitation, and I thought at first, with a 
 little embarrassment ; this however soon passed away, 
 and it was most interesting to watch the eager expres- 
 sion upon their countenances as the various truths which 
 were such glad tidings to them came to view. \Ve came 
 almost accidentally to the parables of the one sheep and 
 the one piece of money which was lost, Luke, 15, and it 
 seemed as if the whole chapter was written expressly for 
 prisoners. 
 
 One of these convicts, after expressing a strong inte- 
 rest in these parables, said that the Bible appeared like a 
 very different book to him now, from what it did in for- 
 mer times. 
 
 " How did it formerly appear to you ?" asked I 
 
 " O, I used to despise it. I used to wonder why so 
 much was made of the Bible. It seemed to me that I 
 could write as good a book myself." 
 
 " Well, are your views of it changed now >" 
 
 " O yes," said he, " I am now fully persuaded it is the 
 word of God." 
 
 44 What caused you to disbelieve formerly ? was it the 
 influence of bad company?" 
 
 " Why, sir, to be frank, it was ignorance. I had not 
 studied it. I had read it a little here and there, but not 
 attentively, or with a right spirit." 
 
 " What led you to change your views of it?" 
 
 " I did not change my views until I came to this insti- 
 tution. I had some days of solitary confinement when 1
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 193 
 
 Power of the Bible. Kefonnation of prisoners. 
 
 first came, with no book but the Bible ; and when I first 
 began to reflect, I recollected that a Christian family 
 whom I once lived with, seemed to enjoy more real, sub- 
 stantial happiness than any other persons I ever saw ; 
 and this led me to think there might possibly be some- 
 thing in religion. So 1 thought I would examine the Bible 
 in earnest, and I found it a very different book from what 
 I had supposed. I took a very strong interest in it, and 
 at last a minister preached a sermon here from the text, 
 ' What shall I do to inherit eternal life ?' and that I hope 
 led me to the Savior. I hope and trust that I have really 
 given my heart to God." 
 
 I told him that what he said gave me great pleasure, 
 and that I hoped he would persevere in Christian duty, 
 and find the Bible a source of happiness to him as long 
 as he should live. 
 
 " When I first came to this institution," he replied, " I 
 thought it was rather a hard case to be shut up here so 
 long. My time is however now almost out. In a few 
 weeks I shall go away; but if I have really been led to 
 see and forsake my sins, I shall never have any reason to 
 regret coming here." 
 
 The chaplain about this time gave notice that it was 
 time for the services to be closed, and I could not con- 
 verse .with my other scholars much. One of them told 
 me however that he had been brought up by pious pa- 
 rents, and had read the Bible when he was a child. "It 
 was however," said he, " only to please my parents. I 
 gave no heed to it. I have found it, since I came to this 
 institution, a very different book." 
 
 I afterward learned that there was as much reason as, 
 under the circumstances, there could be, to hope that all 
 4hree of these criminals had really repented of sin and 
 obtained peace with God, and that they would return to 
 society to be useful and happy while they live, and be 
 admitted to heaven when they die. 
 

 
 194 YOUNG CHRISTIAN, [Ch. 7. 
 
 Cases numerous. Temperance sermon. Marching to the cell*. 
 
 Such cases as these too are becoming very numerous 
 in prisons where the convicts are separated from each 
 other, and brought under the influence of the word of 
 God. Since this plan has been adopted in this very pri- 
 son, the results have been most decisive. The number of 
 prisoners, and especially of recommitments, is very much 
 reduced. The whole number of convicts, which was for- 
 merly 375, has been reduced under the operation of this 
 system to 236, and is now constantly reducing. 
 
 But I must proceed with the description of my visit : 
 At the close of the Sabbath school, the convicts who hao 
 attended it marched out, and presently returned with all 
 the other prisoners in a long procession, to attend public 
 worship ; they filled the chapel. The preacher addressed 
 them on the subject of temperance ; and as he explained 
 to them the nature of ardent spirit, and the consequences 
 of its use, they listened with the most eager and unin- 
 terrupted attention. Each had his Bible under his arm 
 his only companion in his solitary cell and it was evi- 
 dent, I thought, from the countenances of the whole as- 
 sembly, that in the horr of stillness and solitude it had 
 been at work upon the conscience of many a hardened 
 sinner there. It seemed impossible for a man to look 
 upon that assembly, understanding their circumstances, 
 and knowing how exclusively the Bible had been used 
 as the means of restoring them to moral health, and hovr 
 successful it had been, and yet doubt whether the book 
 was really from God. 
 
 After the meeting was closed the prisoners marched 
 by divisions in regular order, each under the care of a 
 keeper, back to the great building in the rear, which con- 
 tained their cells. As they passed through the entry, 
 each one took from the place where he had left it, the 
 tin vessel containing his evening meal, and they marched 
 in long procession to their silent and solitary lodgings. 
 We followed them into the building. Its construction is
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 195 
 
 Construction of the Prison. The buildings. 
 
 peculiar ; and as it is similar to those now almost uni- 
 versally built for prisoners, I shall describe it. 
 
 It contains a building within a building the outer one 
 being a mere shell, consisting of walls and a roof, with 
 rows of narrow grated windows in the sides. The inner 
 building is distinct and independent, with a passage seve- 
 ral feet wide all around between it and the outer walls. 
 This inner building is simply a block of cells, four or 
 five stories high, arranged back to back, so that the doors 
 open on each side into the passage-way I have already 
 described. The doors however, of the lower story only, 
 can be entered from the floor of the passage-way itself, 
 and to gain access to the others, long narrow galleries 
 supported by iron pillars, project from each story. A 
 staircase at one end leads the way to these. 
 
 There were no windows to the cells, except a grated 
 opening in the narrow but heavy iron door; and this, it 
 will be perceived, did not furnish an access to the open 
 air, for the outer building entirely enclosed the inner like 
 a case. Sufficient light however found its way through 
 the outer windows, and thence through the grated door, 
 to cheer the prisoner a little in his solitude, and to allow 
 him to read the pages of the word of God. 
 
 When we came into the passage-way below, the trains 
 of prisoners were passing along the galleries, and enter- 
 ing, one after another, their respective cells. Each one 
 closed after him the massive door, and there was some- 
 thing peculiarly solemn and impressive in the heavy 
 sound, produced in regular succession, as door after dooi 
 closed upon the unfortunate inmates. The keeper pass- 
 ed along after the prisoners of his division had entered 
 their cells, and locked them in, and after the last party- 
 colored dress had disappeared, and the last bolt sounded 
 to its place, the keepers one after another returned, and 
 all was silence and apparent solitude. 
 
 Though it was now the middle of a bright May after-
 
 196 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [CH. 7. 
 
 Construction of the cells. Armed keeper. 
 
 noon, it was but twilight within these walls the twilight 
 of a prison and so still, that one could hardly realize 
 that within the sound of his voice more than two hun- 
 dred criminals were confined. And yet they were with- 
 in the sound of one voice ; for the construction of these 
 buildings is such that every prisoner can hear the. chap- 
 lain when conducting religious services in the pasSage- 
 way. He stands there, not seeing an individual whom 
 he addresses nothing before him but the cold repulsive 
 aspect of the granite walls and floor, and pillars, doors 
 and locks of iron and reads the chapter, and offers the 
 evening prayer in the hearing of hundreds ; and each 
 prisoner, alone in his cell, seated upon his little bench, 
 hears through the grated window the voice of one unseen, 
 explaining to him the word of God, or guiding him in his 
 supplications for the forgiveness of his sins, and prepara- 
 tion for heaven. 
 
 As we stood contemplating this scene, one of the offi- 
 cers of the prison standing there, said to my companion, 
 
 " How different this is from what we used to see and 
 hear in the old prison !" 
 
 " Has there been," asked I, " a very iJerideu change 
 in the aspect of the prisoners since their removal to thii 
 building ?" 
 
 " O yes," said he, " every thing ij changed. Why, 
 when they occupied the old building and were locked up 
 several together in a room, there was nothing but cursing 
 anl swearing, and riot, -snd quarreling, and blasphemy, 
 'to be heard all night. How they would rave against re- 
 ligion and the Bible and ministers ! Nothing would have 
 tempted me to have staid in the prison if that state of 
 things had continued. Now it is a quiet and peaceful 
 family." 
 
 We passed outlast. A keeper, with a sword at his 
 side and a pistol at his belt, closed and locked the door 
 mfter us, and we passed through the yard, and through the
 
 Cll. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 The Bible the means. Analysis of the Convicts' stones. 
 
 great edifice which I first described, out beyond the pri- 
 son walls, and returned to our homes. 
 
 Now if there was any one thing which stood forth to 
 view in all this scene more distinctly and vividly than all 
 the rest, it was that these effects were the work of the 
 Bible. The very essence of the whole system is simply 
 to cut off the bad influences which would otherwise gain 
 access to the prisoner, and lay before him the Bible. 
 This was done with kindness and sympathy indeed, but 
 still the word of God was most evidently the remedy 
 which was applied. The prisoners came to their place 
 of worship with their Bibles in their hands the teach- 
 ers in the Sabbath School confined their efforts to read- 
 ing and explaining the sacred book and it was affecting 
 to observe, that as they went to their solitary cells, they 
 found there the word of God for their only companion. 
 So unquestionable is the moral power of this book, that 
 the very authorities of the State, actuated by a desire to 
 save the community from the injuries of wicked men, 
 place a Bible, at the public expense, in the cell of every 
 convict committed for crime. 
 
 Those little cells, so small that the narrow bed, when 
 let down at night, leaves the prisoner scarce room to 
 stand destitute of almost every comfort, and showing 
 by their whole aspect, that their design is to connect the 
 most gloomy associations possible with the idea of crime 
 every one of those narrow and naked cells must have its 
 Bible. Every legislator knows that that is the book to 
 call back the guilty criminal from his sins. And though 
 men may, in speculation, deny its authority and question 
 its influence in practice, when they wish to awaken con- 
 science in the abandoned, and to recall them so far at 
 least to duty that society may be safe from their crimes, 
 they are unanimous in invoking its aid. 
 
 But I must return to the two convicts' stories. I did
 
 198 VOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 7. 
 
 1. Bible the means. 2. Sins against God. 
 
 not intend to have digressed so far from them. My read- 
 ers are requested to recall those narratives to mind, for I 
 wish to analyse them a little, that I may present more 
 distinctly the nature of the process by which convales- 
 cence and ultimate health returns to a sin-sick soul ; for 
 I wish to consider these not in the light of detached and 
 separate instances, but as fair specimens of cases which 
 are constantly occurring by tens of thousands in Christian 
 lands. 
 
 I should like to have you notice the following points, 
 which are brought to view by those narratives. 
 
 1. Tfie Bible was the means of the change. One of 
 the convicts said he had no proper views of the Scrip- 
 tures till he came to the prison ; the other could not 
 read them at all, and it was plainly by means of this book 
 that they were brought to understand their true charac- 
 ters. So at Charlestown. The whole plan of moral in- 
 fluence consisted in bringing, in a kind and sympathizing 
 manner, the truths of the word of God to those minds. 
 I was told by one of the teachers who was present at 
 the time of my visit, that he had in his class a convict 
 who had been repeatedly imprisoned, having been con- 
 fined once or twice in the old building. " And," said he, 
 "it only made me worse. But now. there is a new state 
 of things. When I came to this prison, I found nothing 
 but my Bible and I believe it has made me a new man." 
 The gentleman who had taught that class, said that he 
 gave every evidence which could be given in so short a 
 time, of being a humbled, renewed man. 
 
 2. Men are led to see that their sins are against God. 
 This you will perceive to be very strikingly the case, from 
 a review of the convicts' stories. And this is one of the 
 great peculiarities of the Scriptures. They lead us to 
 see that we owe obligations to our Maker ; a truth that 
 is always neglected or fofgotten till the Bible brings it to 
 tiew.
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY. 199 
 
 Story of the incendiary. Ignorance of the law of the land. 
 
 But what is the meaning of our sins being against 
 God ? I once knew a boy so abandoned to evil passions, 
 and so utterly destitute of moral principle, that he set 
 fire to his mother's house, in a fit of anger with her for 
 some reproof or punishment. I do not know whether 
 he intended to burn it entirely, or whether he expected 
 that the fire would be extinguished, and he should thus on- 
 ly frighten his mother. A great deal of injury was in fact 
 done by the fire, which was however at last extinguish- 
 ed. Now the boy very probably supposed this oflence 
 was against his mother alone. He knew he was respon- 
 sible to her authority, and thought of nothing more 
 
 How surprised then would he be if some friend of his, 
 after he had done this, should converse with him as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 " Do you know what you have done?' 
 
 *' Yes, I set mother's house on fire." 
 
 " And what do you expect will be the consequence ?" 
 
 " Why, perhaps she will punish me ; but I don't care 
 for that." 
 
 " I think you will find that that is not the worst of it." 
 
 " What is the worst of it?" 
 
 " Why you have broken the law of the land, and I ex- 
 pect every hour that the officers will be after you to take 
 you up." 
 
 " The officers !" says the boy, astonished and alarmed : 
 "I didn't know any thing about the law of the land." 
 
 44 There is a law of the land, you will find, and you 
 have broken it, and they will have you tried and put in 
 State's Prison for it." 
 
 At this the boy would perhaps pause and turn pale, 
 and his next word would probably either be, "I don't 
 believe it," or else, " What shall I do ?" Perhaps he 
 would attempt to excuse himself by saying, 
 
 " I did not know that it was against any law I only 
 did it to plague my mother."
 
 200 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7 
 
 Voice of the Bible. 
 
 " That makes no difference," his friend would reply, 
 " it will not help you at all. The law of every commu- 
 nity is, and ought to be, very decided against incendia- 
 ries, because, as you well know, when you set fire to 
 your house, you endangered the others near, and in fact 
 the whole village. As to your not knowing that it was 
 against the law, that makes no difference ; you knew that 
 it was wrong." 
 
 I do not know whether this boy learned that he had 
 broken the law, and was in great danger of punishment, 
 by any such conversation as the above. I know however 
 that he learned it in some way, and he fled ; he escaped 
 to a distant city, but the officers found him there ; and 
 I saw him afterward confined in his cell. 
 
 Now when men sin in this world they almost always 
 forget the very important circumstance, that tliey are sin- 
 ning against God. They look upon their offences as 
 committed solely against their fellow men ; they feel 
 sometimes a little compunction in regard to those few 
 cases where their conduct has injured their fellows ; they 
 never consider these as offences against a far higher 
 law and as to all their other conduct, they feel entirely 
 at ease in regard to it. 
 
 Now the Bible comes in in such cases, and where its 
 voice is heeded, it holds with men much such a conver- 
 sation as that which I have described between the boy 
 and his friend. 
 
 " Do you know,'* it says to one who has been living 
 an irreligious life for many years, " what you have been 
 doing?" 
 
 " Yes," he replies, " I have very often done wrong. 
 I have sometimes been idle and sometimes a little pas- 
 sionate; but then I have endeavored to make up for lost 
 time by subsequent industry, and I have always repaired 
 all the injuries of every kind that I have done to others. 
 On the whole, I have been a good neighbor and an honest
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 201 
 
 3. Feeling awakend. 
 
 man ; 1 have been kind in my family, and upright as a 
 citizen." 
 
 44 Ah !" says the Bible, 44 do you not know that there 
 is a God, and that, by utterly neglecting him, you have 
 been all ihe time unceasingly breaking his law? You have 
 been living for yourself, detached and separate from all 
 around you, except so far as your interests or instinctive 
 feelings have formed a frail tie. What a divided and mi- 
 serable community would be the result, if all God's crea- 
 tures were to act upon the same principle!" 
 
 44 Besides," continues the word of God, "the sins 
 which you acknowledge you have committed, and which 
 you seem to consider as chiefly against men, are in a far 
 higher sense against God. They are violations of has law, 
 and he has annexed a most awful penalty to such trans- 
 gressions. In fadt, it is possible that some of his officers 
 are now sent for you, to summon you to trial and con- 
 demnation for your sins." 
 
 Thus men are led to see by the Bible what law they 
 have broken, and what punishment they have to fear. 
 The convict, whose conversation I have above given, savr, 
 as he expresses it, that all his sins had been "against 
 God." 
 
 3. The Bible makes men FEEL their guilt. Undoubt- 
 edly many of my readers will go over the explanation 
 I have just given of our connexion with God, and of the 
 fact that all our sins are against him, very carelessly. I 
 do not mean that they will not be interested in the mere 
 reading ; I mean that they will not realize the 'truth, in 
 its application to them. Nothing is more common than 
 for persons to see and to acknowledge the truths I have 
 been presenting, without feeling any compunction for 
 their guilt; but the Bible arouses conscience; it is 
 44 quick and powerful, sharper than any two-e-dged sword, 
 piercing even to the dividing asunder the soul and spirit." 
 
 It is one of the most remarkable properties of the hu- 
 9*
 
 203 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 A slumbering sense of guilt. Sin will sting at last, 
 
 man mind, that a consciousness of guilt may remain a 
 long time dormant in it pioducing no uneasiness and no 
 suffering and yet, after the lapse of years, it will burst 
 forth with most terrific power, and drive the victim of it 
 to actual despair. This has often been the case. A man 
 who has committed sin, is like one bitten by a mad dog. 
 The momentary pain is slight the wound soon heals ; 
 it may keep up from time to time a slight irritation, just 
 enough to remind him occasionally of the occurrence ; 
 but ordinarily it is forgotten, and he goes on with his 
 daily amusements and pleasures, entirely unconscious of 
 danger. 
 
 But though the wound is healed, the dreadful infection 
 which it has admitted to his system is circulating insi- 
 diously there. The poison glides imperceptibly along his 
 veins and arteries for weeks, months, years. It does not 
 mar his enjoyments or disturb his repose ; but still the 
 dreadful enemy, though slumbering, is there. At last, in 
 some unexpected hour, it rises upon him in all its 
 strength, and overwhelms and conquers him entirely. It 
 brings agony to his body and indescribable horror to his 
 soul, and hurries him through the most furious paroxysms 
 of madness and despair to inevitable death. 
 
 And it is just so with sin. A murderer, for example, 
 will often slumber ten, twenty, or thirty years over his 
 crime. The knowledge of it will be in his heart, like a 
 lurking poison, during all that time. He will recollect it 
 without anxiety or compunction, and look forward to the 
 future without alarm. At last however some circum- 
 stance, often apparently trifling, will awaken him ; he 
 will begin to feel his guilt ; conscience will suddenly rise 
 upon him like an armed man, and overwhelm him with 
 all the horrors of remorse and despair. Perhaps if one 
 had tried a few weeks before to make him feel his guilt, 
 it would have been vain, he was so utterly hardened in 
 it BO dead in trespasses and sins ; but now you will find
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 203 
 
 4. The Savior. 
 
 it far more difficult to allay or to mitigate the storm, 
 which has, perhaps spontaneously, arisen. 
 
 Every person therefore who commits sin, takes a viper 
 into his bosom a viper, which may delay stinging him 
 for many years but it will sting him at last, unless it is 
 removed ; he is unaware of the misery which awaits 
 him but it must ceme notwithstanding. This is parti- 
 cularly the case with sins against God ; and the wonder 
 is, that the sense of guilt will remain so entirely dor- 
 mant as it often does, so that no warning, no expostula- 
 tion, no remonstrance will disturb the death-like repose ; 
 and yet at last the volcano will often burst forth spon- 
 taneously, or from some apparently trifling cause, and 
 overwhelm the sinner in suffering. 
 
 Now we certainly should not wish that this suffering 
 should come upon any individual, were it not that in a 
 vast multitude of cases it leads him to repent of and to for- 
 sake his sins. Remorse is not penitence, it is true, but it 
 very frequently leads to it. 
 
 4. The Bible leads men to a Savior. Men every where 
 have the impression that penitence is not enough to re- 
 move and expiate guilt. Whenever we do wrong, there 
 is implanted, as it were in the very soul, a fearful looking 
 forward to punishment to come in consequence of it. We 
 know that no government can be efficiently maintained 
 where its settled, regular plan is to forgive always upon 
 confession. Now it is found by universal experience, 
 and the cases I have narrated happily illustrate this, that 
 when men are really brought to feel their sins against 
 God, they cannot be quieted by any general assurances 
 that God is merciful. They know he is merciful, but 
 then they know he is just. They know he is the great 
 moral Governor of the universe; and the youngest child, 
 or the most ignorant savage, has an instinct, 1 might al- 
 most call it, which so assures him of the necessity of a 
 retribution, that he cannot rest, (after a repeated disobe-
 
 804 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Penance. Forgiveness on mere penitence. Story of Regulus 
 
 dience,) in the hope that his penitence alone will secure 
 his pardon. Hence, in all unchristian countries they have 
 various ways of doing penance, that is, inflicting severe 
 voluntary suffering upon themselves by way of retribu- 
 tion for their sins. Now when men, under such circum- 
 stances, hear that a Savior has died for them, it brings re- 
 lief. It is very often the case that there is not a very 
 clear idea of the way in which his sufferings are of avail 
 in opening the way for pardon ; in fact, it is not absolutely 
 necessary that there should be very clear ideas on this 
 subject. The mind, however darkened and ignorant, is 
 capable of seeing that these sufferings may in some way 
 stop the evil consequences of its sins, and open the way 
 for pardon, and yet not fully understand in all their detail 
 the various moral influences which the crucifixion of the 
 Son of God is calculated to produce. 
 
 My reader, do you feel a secret but continual burden 
 from a sense of your sins? Try the experiment of com- 
 ing and asking forgiveness in the Savior's name, and see 
 if it does not bring relief. 
 
 I suppose that most of my readers remember the story 
 of Regulus. The ancient cities of Rome and Carthage 
 stood opposite to each other, across the Mediterranean 
 sea. As these two cities grew up to power and distinc- 
 tion nearly together, they were the rivals and enemies of 
 each other. There was many a hard fought battle be- 
 tween their armies and their fleets. 
 
 At last, Regulus, a celebrated Roman general, was sent 
 across the sea to carry the war if possible to the very 
 gates of Carthage. He was at first very successful, and 
 he took many prisoners and sent then? to Rome. At 
 length however the scale was turned, the Roman army 
 was conquered, and Regulus himself was captured and 
 thrown into a Carthagenian prison. 
 
 After some time however had elapsed, the Carthage- 
 nians, foreseeing that the Roman power would in the end
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 205 
 
 War between Rome and Carthage. Regains as ambassador. 
 
 overwhelm their own, concluded to send an embassy to 
 Rome to offer peace. They proposed to Regulus to go on 
 this embassy. They entrusted him with the commission, 
 saying to him, " We wish you would go to Rome and 
 propose to your countrymen to make peace with us, and 
 endeavor to persuade them to comply. If you do not 
 succeed, however, we expect you to return to us again as 
 our lawful prisoner. We shall confide in your word." 
 
 Regulus accepted the trust. He set off to Rome, pro 
 mising to return to Carthage if the Romans should not 
 accede to the peace. He sailed across the sea and up the 
 Tiber, and was soon approaching the gates of the great 
 city. He had determined however to do all in his power 
 to prevent a peace, knowing that it would not be for the 
 interest of his country to make one. He understood, 
 therefore, that he was going to his native city only to 
 communicate his message, and then to return to impri- 
 sonment, torture and death at Carthage. 
 
 His wife came out of the gates to meet him, rejoicing 
 in his return. He received her dejected, silent and sad. 
 "I am a Carthagenian prisoner still," said he, " and must 
 soon return to my chains." 
 
 He refused to enter the city. He had indeed a mes- 
 sage for the senate, but the Roman senate was not ac- 
 customed to admit foreigners to their sessions within the 
 city. He sent them word, therefore, that Regulus, no lon- 
 ger a Roman general, but a Carthagenian prisoner, was 
 the bearer of a message to them, and wished them to hold, 
 as usual, a meeting without the gates for the purpose of 
 receiving it. 
 
 The senate came. They heard the proposal which 
 the Carthaginians sent, and the arguments of Regulus 
 against it. The arguments prevailed. They decided 
 against peace, and Regulus began to speak of his re- 
 turn. 
 
 " Return !" said his friends, and the senators, and all
 
 206 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Death of Regulus. Cruel retaliation. Supposed case. 
 
 the people of Rome ; " you are under no obligation to 
 return to Carthage." 
 
 "I promised to return," said Regulus, "and I must 
 keep my word. I am well aware that the disappointed 
 and exasperated Carthagenians will inflict upon me cruel 
 tortures, but I am their prisoner still, and I must keep 
 my word." 
 
 The Romans did all in their power to persuade Regu- 
 lus that a promise extorted under such circumstances was 
 not binding, and that he could be under no obligations to 
 return. But all wis vain. He bade the senate, and his 
 countrymen, and his wife farewell, and was soon sailing 
 back to the land of his enemies. The Carthagenians 
 were enraged at the result of his mission. They put him 
 to death by the most cruel tortures. 
 
 When the tidings of his death came back to Rome, the 
 senate and the people, who had already been much im- 
 pressed by the patriotism of Regulus and his firm adhe- 
 rence to his word, were overwhelmed with admiration 
 and gratitude. This feeling was mixed too with a strong 
 desire of revenge upon the Carthagenians, and a decree 
 was passed, giving up the Carthagenian prisoners then in 
 their hands to Marcia, the wife of Regulus, to be dispos- 
 ed of as she might desire. She most unjustly and cruel- 
 ly ordered them all to be put to death by the same suf- 
 ferings which her lamented husband had endured. 
 
 My story, thus far, is substantially true. The dialogue 
 I have given is intended to exhibit the substance of what 
 was said, not the exact words. The facts, however, are 
 correctly stated. The whole occurrence is matter of 
 history. 
 
 In order, however, to make the use of this story which 
 I have intended, I must now go on in fiction. I will sup- 
 pose that Marcia, instead of desiring to gratify a revenge- 
 ful spirit by destroying the lives of the innocent prison- 
 ers at Rome, in retaliation for the murder of her husband,
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 30V 
 
 Forgiveness of criminals for Regulus' sake. 
 
 had been actuated by a nobler spirit, and had sent such a 
 message as this to the Roman senate, in reply to their 
 proposal to her : 
 
 " I do not wish for revenge. It will do no good, either 
 to Regulus who is dead, or to his unhappy widow who 
 survives, to torture or to destroy the miserable captives 
 in our hands. Dispose of them as the good of the state 
 requires. If you think, however, that any thing is due 
 from the commonwealth to the memory of Regulus or to 
 his surviving friends, let it be paid in happiness, not in 
 suffering. There are in the public prisons many misera- 
 ble convicts condemned for their crimes ; let them be 
 forgiven for Regulus' sake, if they will acknowledge their 
 crimes and return to their duty." 
 
 A Roman senate would have granted undoubtedly 
 such a request as this, if made under such circumstances 
 as I have described. Let us suppose they had done so, 
 and that the prison doors had been opened, and the of- 
 fers of pardon had been circulated among the convicts 
 there. 
 
 Now I wish my reader to bear in mind that I am no* 
 intending here to offer an illustration of the way in which 
 our salvation is effected by the sufferings of the Son ot 
 God ; no analogy drawn from any earthly transactions, 
 can fully illustrate the way in which the Lamb of Mod 
 taketh away the sins of the world. My object is to illus- 
 trate the spirit with which the offer of mercy through him 
 is to be received, and I have made this supposition for 
 the purpose of placing these prisoners in a situation 
 somewhat like that of condemned sinners in this world, 
 that I may show how the Bible brings relief to those suf- 
 fering under the burden of sin, by offering them mercy 
 through a Savior. 
 
 A messenger comes then, we will suppose, among the 
 imprisoned malefactors tells them he brings good news 
 to them an offer of pardon from the Roman senate.
 
 208 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Gil. 7. 
 
 Its effects in prison. 
 
 The prisoners look incredulous. They know that the 
 Roman government is an efficient one, and that it is ac- 
 customed to execute its laws. " We are justly imprison- 
 ed," they would say, " and our time is not yet expired 
 there can be no forgiveness for us till the law sets us 
 free." 
 
 The messenger then relates to them, that in conse- 
 quence of the distinguished services and subsequently 
 cruel sufferings of a great Roman general, the senate had 
 wished to make to his widow some public expression of 
 the sympathy and gratitude of the commonwealth, and 
 that she had asked it as a boon, that every penitent pri- 
 soner, willing to abandon his crimes and return to his 
 duty, might be set free for her husband's sake. 
 
 Now unquestionably, if there were any among these 
 prisoners who were really penitent for sin and willing 
 to return to duty, their abhorrence of theJr crimes would 
 be increased, and their determination to be faithful citi- 
 zens in future would be strengthened by receiving such 
 an offer of pardon. Nay, it would not be surprising if 
 some who were still hardened in their sins, and even in 
 the midst of noise and revelry in the prison at the very 
 time the messenger appeared, should be arrested, and 
 their feelings touched by such an address. 
 
 " How different," they might reflect, " is the conduct 
 of Regulus from ours ! We have been, by our vices and 
 crimes bringing injuries without number upon our coun- 
 try. He, by his labors and sufferings, has been unceas- 
 ingly endeavoring to do her good ; and Marcia, too it 
 was kind for her to think of us. When we were at 
 liberty, we thought only of gratifying our own passions ; 
 we made no effort to promote the happiness of others, 
 or to diminish their sufferings ; we will return to our 
 duty, and imitate the example they have set for us." 
 
 It would not be surprising if such a transaction had 
 awakened these reflections in some minds; and on the
 
 Ch. 7.J EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITV. 209 
 
 The effecti of the Gospel the same. The penitent convict. 
 
 whole, the effect of the offer of mercy through Jesus 
 Christ produces very similar effects in the world to those 
 I have here imagined in the prison. When men are told 
 in general terms, that God is merciful and will forgive 
 their sins, it does not in ordinary cases really relieve 
 them. Though perhaps they do not say it distinctly, yet 
 they feel that God's government, to be efficient, must 
 have strict laws, and penalties strictly executed ; and 
 they are afraid that a mere reliance on God's general 
 mercy may not be quite safe. Thousands trust to this 
 till they come to their dying hour, and then abandon it. 
 
 But when men are told, by the word of God, that Jesus 
 Christ died for them the just for the unjust and that 
 they must come, asking forgiveness in his name and for 
 his sake, it throws a different aspect over the whole case; 
 a bright gleam of hope from a new and unexpected quar- 
 ter darts in. Though they may not know fully in what 
 way the sufferings of Christ may be the means of open- 
 ing the way for their forgiveness, they still can see that 
 it is very possible it may in some way do this. It is not 
 necessary that we should understand fully the way. The 
 convicts might be released without knowing all about the 
 story of Regulus, or comprehending exactly how such 
 a transaction as their release on his account would affect 
 the public mind in Rome, so as to obviate the evil effects 
 of laxity in the administration of public justice. There 
 might be many a poor ignorant convict who could not 
 comprehend such subjects at all, and yet possess the 
 spirit of mind which should bring him most fully within 
 the conditions of release. Such an one might come to 
 the officer appointed for the purpose, and say, 
 
 " I am very grateful to the Roman senate for offer- 
 ing to pardon me for the sake of Regulus ; I was really 
 guilty of the crime for which I was sentenced, and the 
 term of my imprisonment is not longer than I justly de- 
 serve ; but I am glad to be restored to freedom and to
 
 210 Yotmo CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7 
 
 The penitent sinner. 
 
 happiness now. I shall always be grateful to the senate, 
 and shall cherish the memory of Ilegulus as long as 
 I live." 
 
 Now if a prisoner had this spirit, there is no question 
 that he would be released, whether he was or was not 
 statesman or philosopher enough to understand fully the 
 moral character and influence of such a transaction; and 
 BO, my reader, if you are willing to acknowledge and to 
 forsake your sins, and to accept of freedom and happi- 
 ness in future, on account of another's merits and suffer- 
 ings, you need not distress yourself because you do not 
 fully comprehend the nature of that great transaction of 
 which Gethsemane and Calvary were the scene. It can- 
 not be fully understood here. From the windows of our 
 prison-house in this world, we can see but a small part 
 of the great city of God. We cannot therefore appreciate 
 fully any of the plans of his government ; we can how- 
 ever feel right ourselves. We can ask forgiveness in 
 Christ's name, and believe, on the authority of God's 
 word, that God has set forth Jesus Christ to be a propi- 
 tiation for us, that we might be saved through faith in 
 his blood that is, by our trusting in his sufferings that 
 God might be just, and yet save those who trust in the 
 Savior.* 
 
 But to return to the Roman prison. I have repre- 
 sented one prisoner as accepting the offer, and going out 
 to freedom in consequence of it. Let us now suppose 
 that the public officer, appointed by the senate to carry 
 the message to the prisoners, and to receive their re- 
 plies, should meet in one of the rooms a very different 
 reception. He passes, we will suppose, along a dark pas- 
 sage-way, until he comes to the door of a gloomy dun- 
 geon ; the keeper removes the heavy rusty bars, and un- 
 bolts and unlocks the door, and as he opens it, he hearg 
 the unexpected sounds of mirth and revelry within. 
 * See Romans, iii, 2326.
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 211 
 
 The offer neglected. The offer rejected 
 
 As he enters, he sees the wretched-looking inmates ly- 
 ing around the cold stone floor upon their beds of straw. 
 In a corner sit some with wild and haggard looks rela- 
 ting to each other, with noisy but unnatural mirth, the 
 profane jest or immoral story. In the middle of the 
 room, two are quarrelling for a morsel of food, which 
 each claims, filling the air with their dreadful oaths and 
 imprecations. Near the door lies a miserable object half 
 covered in his tattered garment, and endeavoring in vain 
 to get a little sleep. A small grated window high in the 
 wall admits a dim light, just sufficient to reveal to view 
 the objects which compose this scene of vice and misery. 
 
 The quarrellers and the rioters pause a moment, each 
 retaining his attitude, and listen while the messenger 
 from the senate lays before them the offer of forgiveness 
 and freedom. They gaze upon him for a few minutes 
 with vacant looks, but before he has fairly finished his 
 message, the angry combatants re-commence their war 
 the story teller in the corner goes on with his narra- 
 tive the sleeper composes himself again to rest and 
 perhaps some fierce and angry looking criminal comes 
 up to the messenger and says, in a stern voice, " Away 1 
 you have no business here." 
 
 Do you think that these prisoners would be liberated 
 for the sake of Regulus ? No ! The bolts and bars must 
 be closed upon them again, and they must bear their sen- 
 tence to the full. This is the way that multitudes receive 
 the offers of forgiveness through Jesus Christ. 
 
 Once more. Suppose this messenger were to meet, in 
 some part of the prison, one of the convicts walking back 
 and forth alone in his cell, and should repeat to him the 
 story which he was commissioned to bring. 
 
 " Forgiveness for the sake of Regulus !" says he, with 
 a tone of scorn; "I want no forgiveness on account of 
 another ; you have no right to shut me up here for any- 
 thing I have done ; it is unjust and cruel. I demand re-
 
 212 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Grateful acceptance of the oiler. Object of this illustration. 
 
 lease oh my own account without any condition or any 
 acknowledgment of my dependence for it upon the merits 
 of another." 
 
 Now if the messenger should meet with the exhibition 
 of such a spirit as this, he would turn away and close the 
 bolts and bars of the prison again upon such a convict, 
 and seek subjects of mercy elsewhere. God too requires 
 of us all a humble and subdued spirit, and willingness to 
 accept of pardon in the name of Jesus Christ, who died 
 for us. We must come with the spirit which I first de- 
 scribed the spirit of the convict who said, 
 
 '* I am grateful to the Roman senate for offering to par- 
 don me for the sake of Regulus. I was really guilty of 
 the crime for which I was sentenced, and the term of my 
 imprisonment is not longer than I justly deserve. But I 
 am glad to be restored to freedom and happiness now. I 
 shall always be grateful to the senate, and shall cherish 
 the memory of Regulus as long as I live." 
 
 Before dismissing this illustration, I wish to remind 
 my readers again, that I have been endeavoring to exhi- 
 bit by it the spirit of mind with which we ought to re- 
 ceive the offer of mercy through Jesus Christ, not the 
 nature of the atonement which he has made for sin. The 
 case I have imagined could not safely occur in any hu 
 man government, because there would be no way of as- 
 certaining who among the convicts were truly penitent, 
 and were really determined on leading a life of virtue in 
 future. Several other difficulties, which in God's govern- 
 ment do not exist, are unavoidable in every human em- 
 pire. The spirit of mind with which the offer of free 
 forgiveness in Jesus' name is welcomed or refused, is all 
 which I design by this illustration to explain. If the 
 hsart is really ready to acknowledge its guilt, and willing 
 to accept of pardon which it does not deserve, the offer 
 of a Savior is most admirably calculated to restore peace 
 of conscience, and heal the wounded spirit. And nothing
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 213 
 
 Excilemen' mid delusion. Anecdote of Brinley. 
 
 but t)ie Bible can make such an offer. Thus one of the 
 most powerful means by which it changes character, is awa- 
 kening the sensibilities of the heart through the exhibition 
 of a Savior crucified for our sins, and leading us to feel 
 that we may be forgiven, and the obligation and authori- 
 ty of the law we have broken be yet sustained. . 
 
 6. Thecc changes of character are of ten attended with 
 ttrong excitement, and sometimes with mental delusion. 
 My readers recollect that the lirst convict saw at one 
 time a black coflin, according to his statement; and at 
 another, he was addressed by an audible voice in his cell, 
 telling hiii that his sins were pardoned. These two cir- 
 cumstances were what chiefly induced me to insert that 
 narrative, that 1 might hi ing up distinctly this point, viz 
 that the clnngea of character produced by the Bible are 
 often (ittended with mental delusion in little things, espe- 
 cially among those minds that have been but little disci- 
 plined by philosophical thought. I could not have a fair 
 specimen without including an example of this. 
 
 The human mind is so con tituted, as all who have studi- 
 ed its nature are fully aware, that when any subject of great 
 interest, or nny strong emotion, takes possession of it, 
 it operates immediately upon the body, producing some 
 times animal excitement, and sometimes delusions of the 
 senses. So that these very delusions, and ibis very bodi- 
 Iv excitement, prove the greatness and the reality of the 
 emotions of heart which have occasioned them. If a 
 man becomes very much interested in any scheme, how 
 likely he is to become enthusiastic in it! And this en- 
 thusiasm the public usually consider as proving, not dis~ 
 proving, his sincerity. It indicates the strength of the 
 interest which he feels. It is astonishing what exlrava- 
 ga icies people will put up with from men engaged in the 
 prosecution of favorite plans, and will consi ler them as 
 'pleasant indications of the strength of the interest which 
 is felt. Brinley, a famous canal engineer, was so much
 
 814 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 7. 
 
 Cases of excitement. 
 
 interested in his favorite mode of transportation, that he 
 used to express the opinion that a canal was far more 
 valuable to a country than a navigable river. He was 
 once asked what he supposed Providence intended in 
 creating rivers. He said they were good for nothing 
 but to feed canals. And this story has been copied by 
 every biographer of Brinley ; it has been told again and 
 again, in lectures and conversations and debates, as a 
 pleasant instance of extravagance in a man devoted to a 
 favorite pursuit, which proves nothing but the greatness 
 of the interest he feels in it. Nobody ever thought the 
 worse of Brinley for it, or distrusted his judgment on 
 any point in the science of engineering. Millions were 
 risked on his opinion while he was living, and his name is 
 remembered with the highest respect So Christians of 
 uncultivated minds will be sometimes extravagant in their 
 opinions, or in their conduct, and only show by it the 
 strength of the interest they feel. 
 
 A man who is inventing a machine, will become so 
 excited that he cannot sleep. He will perhaps, in his 
 efforts to obtain repose, fall into an uncertain state, be- 
 tween sleeping and waking, in which, half in reverie and 
 half in dream, fancy will present him with splendid ima- 
 ges of success. He will hear a voice or see a figure, 
 or he will be assured by some extraordinary mode that 
 he shall overcome all his difficulties, if he will perse- 
 vere. In the morning, light and the full possession of 
 his faculties return, and as he is generally a man of in- 
 telligence, he can analyse the operations of his mind, 
 and separate the false from the true. If he was an un- 
 enlightened man, however, and should in the morning 
 tell his story, how narrow would be the philosophy 
 which would say to him, "Sir, it is all a delusion. Your 
 mind is evidently turned. You had better give up your 
 invention, and return to other pursuits." It would be a 
 great deal more wise to neglect altogether the story of
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 216 
 
 Conversion a very great change. 
 
 supernatural voices and appearances which he might tell, 
 and judge of the value of his proposed invention by ex- 
 amining impartially his plan itself, and calculating on so- 
 ber evidence the probability of success or failure. 
 
 So, my reader, when you hear of any thing which 
 you deem extravagance or delusion among Christians, 
 remember how immense a change the beginning of a 
 Christian course sometimes is. The man has been all 
 his life neglecting and disliking religion. He has been 
 engrossed in sinful pursuits and pleasures, and perhaps 
 addicted to open vice. All at once, while contemplating 
 God's holy truth, his eyes are opened he sees his guilt, 
 and his imminent danger of ruin. He is, and he must 
 he, strongly excited. If he feels in any sense his condi- 
 tion., he cannot sleep. Can an arrested malefactor sleep 
 quietly the first night in his cell? He must be strongly 
 excited, and this excitement must, in many cases, bring 
 something like temporary mental delusion. He must do 
 and say many things in which tl.e calm spectators can- 
 not sympathize. But it is most certainly very unphilo- 
 sophical to fasten upon these, and say it is all delusion 
 and wildness. The real question to be considered is this: 
 Is a bad character really changed for a good one ? If so, 
 it is a great moral change, invaluable in its nature and 
 results, productive of inconceivable good to the individual 
 himself, and to all connected with him. The excess of 
 feeling is momentary and harmless. In regard to the 
 permanency of the change in the case of those convicts, 
 there is one whose subsequent character 1 have no means 
 of knowing. The other however, when he was libera- 
 ted, became a useful and respectable citizen ; and after 
 sustaining uninjured for two or three years the tempta- 
 tions of the w->rld, he was admitted to a Christian church ; 
 and up t-o the latest accounts which I have been able to 
 obtain, he was a most trustworthy man and an exempla- 
 ry Christian. An abandoned profligate, imprisoned for
 
 216 YODKQ CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 7. 
 
 Narrow views. , Danger on both sides. 
 
 his crimes, becomes a useful and a virtuous man. Can 
 you expect such a change without excitement? How 
 unphilosophic.il then is it to fasten upon the slight and 
 momentary indications of excitement as evidence that 
 there is nothing real in the case ! 
 
 And yet unphilosophical as this is, I have no doubt 
 that there are many persons whose eyes, if they were 
 reading the first convict's story, would catch at once 
 the accounts of the supernatural appearances which he 
 thought he saw, and they would stop short there. "Ah 1" 
 they would say, " he heard a voice forgiving his sijis 
 he saw a black coffin ! It is all fanaticism and delusion." 
 This is narrow-mindedness. The intellect which rea- 
 sons thus, is in such a state that it does not take a sur- 
 vey of the whole of a subject presented, so as to form an 
 independent and unbiassed opinion. The man fastens 
 upon one little blemish which happens to be turned to- 
 ward him, and seeing no farther, he condemns the whole. 
 Like the inexperienced mariner, who thinks he has come 
 to a barren and inhospitable land, because he sees no- 
 thing but precipitous rocks or sandy beaches on the 
 shore which first comes to view. 
 
 There is, however, a narrow-mindedness which may 
 operate in another way. Many a sincere Christian will 
 read such an account and be perfectly satisfied, because 
 he meets with a few expressions of penitence, that the 
 convict's heart is really changed. He thinks the crimi- 
 nal has certainly become a Christian, just because he 
 talks like one. Whereas it is very possible that he is on- 
 ly repeating language which he has heard others use, 
 for the sake of exciting sympathy, or pretending to be 
 reformed, in hope of pardon and release from his cell. 
 Now, it is as narrow-minded to judge from a very partial 
 knowledge of facts in one way as in another. An ex- 
 perienced Christian can indeed often form a tolerably safe 
 opinion of the reality or ficiitiousness of a pretended
 
 Ch. 7.] EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 217 
 
 Criterion. Immediate and peaceful submission the duty of all. 
 
 change by conversation ; but the great decisive evidence 
 after all is perseverance in a holy life. 
 
 If then men who have been abandoned to vice be- 
 come virtuous and trustworthy citizens, and exemplify 
 for years the graces of the Christian character, we will 
 bear with a little excitement, and even enthusiasm, at the 
 time of the change. For it is, after all, of comparative- 
 ly little consequence whether this excitement shows it- 
 self by some open manifestation, as by the black coffin 
 rising to the disturbed imagination of the convict in his 
 cell, or the loud shout, " Glory to God," which resounds 
 in the Methodist camp ; or whether it is subdued and re- 
 strained, as in the still solemnity of an inquiry meeting 
 on the evening of the Sabbath, or in the solitary suffer- 
 ing of an awakened sinner mourning at midnight the 
 burden of his sins. Remember that I say it is of little 
 consequence, not that it is of none. It would be better 
 if men would follow Jesus as readily and as easily as 
 Matthew did. Jesus said unto him, " Arise and follow 
 me ; and he arose and followed him." Immediate sub- 
 mission, with cordial confidence in the Savior, will at 
 once remove all mental suffering and all cause for it. 
 But if men will only give up their sins and lead lives of 
 actual piety, we will not quarrel with them about the 
 manner in which they enter the new way. 
 
 Such then are some of the effects of the Bible upon 
 the human character considered in detail. I have thought 
 it best, in order to show the moral power of this book as 
 distinctly as possible, to analyse thus minutely the ope- 
 ration of it in some particular cases. But the argument 
 would be very deficient if I should leave it here ; for if 
 these cases were uncommon, they would prove but little. 
 But they are not uncommon. Even in prisons, a very 
 large number of such cases have, as I have already sta- 
 ted, occurred ; and the subjects of such changes have
 
 218 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. fCh. 7 
 
 Limited circulation of the Bible. Fear of death 
 
 gone, when they have been liberated, in peace and hap- 
 piness to their homes. There are now scattered over our 
 land vast numbers who have been brought, from every 
 stage and degree of guilt, to seek pardon through the 
 Savior, and to begin a life of virtue and piety. The in- 
 iluence of the Bible, too, upon the community at large is 
 so great, that every country where it freely circulates is 
 distinguished for the peace which reigns there. Vice is 
 comparatively unknown, property and life are safe, every 
 man sits under his own vine and fig-tree, with none to 
 molest or make him afraid. But when man is left to 
 himself, he makes his home a den of robbers. If you tra- 
 vel on the Nile or the Tigris, you must look well to your 
 means of defence. Men must go in caravans in all those 
 regions for mutual protection. But how would an armed 
 escort for a traveler appear on the banks of the Con- 
 necticut or the Hudson ? 
 
 And yet though benefits so great are procrred to socie- 
 ty by the Bible, they are procured, after all, only by a 
 limited application of its moral power. It is a very 
 small proportion of the whole population, even in the 
 United States, which attends at all to the commands and 
 instructions of the word of God. The numbers are how- 
 ever rapidly increasing. The cause of God is advancing 
 with great rapidity ; and as a military despotism or a Chris- 
 tian republic must be the ultimate destiny of every nation, 
 we can look only to the spread of the influence of the 
 Bible to save our country from ruin. 
 
 I will close this chapter by mentioning one more in- 
 stance of the moral power of the Bible it is its effect 
 in destroying the fear of death. The fear of death is in- 
 stinctive, not founded on reasoning. It is reasonable for 
 us to fear some things connected with death, but the chief 
 apprehension which every man feels in looking forward 
 to that hour, is the result of an instinctive principle which 
 Providence has implanted in every man's mind ; and the
 
 Ch. 7.J EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 219 
 
 TLe sick young man. Sting of death. The dying mother. 
 
 only way by which it can be counteracted without the 
 Bible, is by banishing the subject from the thoughts. 
 That is the way that soldiers acquire courage in battle- 
 by accustoming themselves not to think of death at all. 
 It is not in human nature to contemplate its approach, 
 habitually and calmly, without such a preparation as the 
 Rible gives. ^ *"' 
 
 Come in imagination to this sick chamber. That young 
 man tossing restlessly upon his pillow is soon to die. His 
 physicians have given him over. His friends despair, 
 but, by a most absurd and preposterous species of kind- 
 ness, they will not tell him of his danger, for they know 
 he is unprepared to die, and the knowledge of the ap- 
 proach of the dread hour they think will distress him ! 
 But the sad secret they cannot conceal ; he reads his 
 sentence in their anxious looks and agitated words his 
 pale cheek turns paler with fear, and to the natural rest- 
 lessness of disease, there is added the overwhelming agi- 
 tation of mental anguish. Can you soothe him? Can 
 you calm him ? Your very effort reveals to him his dan- 
 ger more distinctly, and his heart sinks within him in 
 hopeless terror. Sometimes, it is true, this fear of death 
 does not reign in the heart at the closing hour, for rea- 
 son may be gone, or the soul may sink into stupor. But 
 when death is really foreseen and known to be near, while 
 the faculties retain their power, the expectation of it 
 weighs down the human spirit with overwhelming fears. 
 
 But the Bible tells us that the sting of death is sin, and 
 that Christ will give believers the victory over it. The 
 Bible most faithfully keeps this promise. See that dy- 
 ing Christian mother. She knows that death is near, 
 and has calmly made all her arrangements for the clos 
 ing scene. She is a Christian, and looks forward to an 
 entrance into the world of spirits with no foreboding and 
 no anxiety. Her husband, and children, and friends, 
 stand in agitation and distress around her bed-side, but
 
 220 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [CTl. 7. 
 
 Practical directions. Difficulties. Disputes. 
 
 she is calm. A Christian death-bed very often exhibits 
 the astonishing spectacle of composure and happiness in 
 the one who is to drink the cup, while those around, who 
 are only witnesses of the scene, are overwhelmed in agi- 
 tation and sorrow. The very one who is to encounter 
 the suffering, is the only one who can look forward to it 
 without fear. It is because the Bible has been shedding 
 its influences upon her heart, and by a moral power, 
 which no other means can exert, has disarmed death, the 
 very king of terrors, and given to a weak and suffering 
 mortal the victory over all his power. 
 
 But I must close this chapter, and with it close the 
 short and simple view I have been endeavoring to give 
 of the evidences of Christianity. I cannot but hope that 
 my readers see evidence enough to satisfy them that the 
 Bible is really the word of God. If you do, lay up the 
 conviction in your heart, and let it guide and influence 
 you. But let me, before I dismiss the subject, give you 
 two or three short practical directions. 
 
 1. Do not think there is no other side to this question. 
 There are a great many things which may be said against 
 the Bible, and some things which you, with your present 
 attainments in Christian knowledge, perhaps cannot an- 
 swer. But they do not touch or affect the great argu- 
 ments by which the authority of the Bible is sustained. 
 They are all small, detached difficulties. Then let your 
 mind rest, calmly and with confidence, upon the great 
 but simple arguments on which the strong foundations of 
 your belief stand. 
 
 2. Never be inclined to dispute upon the evidences of the 
 Christian religion. The difficulty with unbelievers is one 
 of the heart, not of the intellect, and you cannot alter the 
 heart by disputing. When they present you with argu- 
 ments against Christianity, reply in substance, "What 
 you say seems plausible ; still it does not reach the broad 
 and deep foundations upon which, in my view, Christia-
 
 Ch. 8. STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 221 
 
 Doing duty. 
 
 nity rests ; and consequently, notwithstanding what you 
 say, I still place confidence in the word of God." 
 
 3. Notice this, which, if you will watch your own ex- 
 perience, you will find to be true. Your confidence in the 
 word of God and in the truths of religion will be almost 
 exactly proportional to the fidelity with which you do 
 your duty. When you lose your interest in your progress 
 in piety, neglect prayer, and wander into sin, then you 
 will begin to be in darkness and doubt. If you are so un- 
 happy as to get into such a state, do not waste your lime 
 in trying to reason yourself back to belief again. Return 
 to duty. Come to God and confess your wanderings, and 
 submit your heart to be inclined to him. If you do this, 
 light for the intellect and peace for the heart will come 
 Lack together. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 
 "Able to make us wise unto salvation." 
 
 It is not my intention in this chapter to give any de- 
 scription of the Bible itself, or of its history since it came 
 into the world ; nor shall I endeavor to establish its di- 
 vine authority, or present the evidences or the nature of 
 its inspiration. My object is to point out practical duty, 
 and I shall confine myself to a description of the best 
 methods of reading and studying the book. 
 
 I ought, however, to remark at the outset, that I in- 
 tend the chapter to be of a highly practical character, and 
 I shall go accordingly into minute detail. Besides, I am 
 writing for the young, and shall, as I have generally 
 done in this book, confine myself exclusively to them,
 
 222 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8. 
 
 Able to make us wise unto salvation. Way to study the Bible. 
 
 for I have much more hope that they will be influenced 
 to follow the course which I shall endeavor to describe, 
 than that my efforts will produce any good effect upon 
 those who have gone beyond the meridian of life. If a 
 man has passed the age of thirty without the Bible, it is 
 to be feared that he will go on unaided by its light through 
 ihe remainder of his pilgrimage. It is different, howevei 
 with the young. You shrink from passing life in impiety. 
 You know that the Bible can be the only safe lamp to 
 your feet ; and if you are not now living by its light, there 
 is hope that you may be persuaded to come and give 
 vourself up to its guidance. 
 
 There should be a distinction made between the man- 
 ner of reading the Bible on the Sabbath, and during the 
 bustle of the week. The two objects to be accomplished, 
 and the method of accomplishing them I shall describe. 
 
 On the Sabbath the Bible should be studied. Every 
 person, old or young, ignorant or learned, should de- 
 vote a portion of time every Sabbath to the study of the 
 Scriptures, in the more strict and proper sense of that 
 term. But to show precisely what I mean by this week- 
 ly study of the Bible, I will describe a particular case. 
 A young man M-ith only such opportunities as are pos- 
 sessed by all, resolves to take this course. He selects the 
 epistle to the Ephesians for his first subject ; he obtains 
 such books and helps as he finds in his own family, or as 
 he can obtain from a religious friend, or procure from a 
 Sabbath School library. It is not too much to suppose 
 that he will have a sacred Atlas, some Commentary, and 
 probably a Bible Dictionary. He should also have pen, 
 ink and paper ; and thus provided, he sits down Sabbath 
 morning to his work. He raises a short but heartfelt 
 prayer to God that he will assist and bless him, and then 
 commences his inquiries. 
 
 The Epistle to the Ephesians I have supposed to be
 
 Ch. 8.] SlTJDY OF THE BIBLE. 223 
 
 The young man's experiment. 
 
 his subject. He sees that the first question evidently is, 
 " Who were the Ephesians ?" Ho finds the city of 
 Ephesus upon the map ; and from the preface to the 
 Epistle contained in the commentary, or from any other 
 source to which he can have access, he learns what sort 
 (\f a city it was what was the character of the inhabi- 
 tants, and if possible what condition the city was in at 
 the time this letter was written. He next inquires in re- 
 gard to the writer of this letter or Epistle, as it is called. 
 It was Paul; and what did Paul know of the Ephesians ? 
 had he ever been there ? or was he writing to strangers ? 
 To settle these points, so evidently important to a correct 
 understanding of the letter, he examines the Acts of the 
 Apostles, (in which an account of St. Paul's labors is 
 contained,) to learn whether Paul went there, and if so, 
 what happened while he was there. He finds that many 
 interesting incidents occurred during Paul's visits, and 
 his curiosity is excited to know whether these things will 
 be alluded to in the letter ; he also endeavors to ascer- 
 tain where Paul was when he wrote the letter. After 
 having thus determined every thing relating to the cir- 
 cumstances of the case, he is prepared to come to the 
 Epistle itself, and enter with spirit and interest into an 
 examination of its contents. 
 
 He first glances his eye cursorily through the chapters 
 of the book, that he may take in at once a genera] view 
 of its object and design perhaps he makes out a brief 
 list of the topics discussed, and thus has a distinct general 
 idea of the whole before he enters into a minute exami- 
 nation of the parts. This minute examination he comes 
 to at last though perhaps the time devoted to the study 
 for two or three Sabbaths is spent in the preparatory in- 
 quiries. If it is so, it is time well spent; for by it he is 
 now prepared to enter with interest into the very soul 
 and spirit of the letter. "While he was ignorant of these 
 points, his knowledge of the Epistle itself must have been
 
 224 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8. 
 
 The family circle. Distribution of books. 
 
 very vague and superficial. Suppose I were now to in- 
 troduce into this book a letter, and should begin at once, 
 without saying by whom the letter was written, or to 
 whom it was addressed. It would be preposterous. If 
 I wished to excite your interest, I should describe parti- 
 cularly the parties, and the circumstances which produced 
 the letter originally. And yet how many Christians there 
 are, who could not tell whether Paul's letter to the Ephe- 
 sians was written before or after he went there, or where 
 Titus was when Paul wrote to him, or for what special 
 purpose he wrote ! 
 
 Take another case. The father or mother whom Pro- 
 vidence has placed at the head of a family, contrive to 
 close their worldly business at an early hour on Saturday 
 evening, and gather around the table at their fireside all 
 those who are committed to their charge. They choose 
 some subject for examination real, thorough examina- 
 tion. Perhaps it is the rebuilding of Jerusalem after the 
 captivity. The various books calculated to assist their 
 inquiries are distributed among the members of the 
 group ; the reference Bible is given to one the Concor 
 dance to another an Expositor to the third the Bible 
 Dictionary to the fourth ; and then, when all are seated, 
 and the divine blessing has been asked upon their labors, 
 the father asks them all to turn to any part of the Scrip- 
 tures which gives information upon the subject. They 
 examine first the account of the destruction of the city, 
 when the Jews were carried captive, that they may know 
 in what condition it was probably found on their return. 
 They search in several books for an account of the first 
 movements in Babylon of those who were desirous of re- 
 turn ; they examine the plans they formed ; compare one 
 account with another ; every question which occurs is ask- 
 ed, and the information which it seeks for, obtained. The 
 two expeditions of Ezra and Nehemiah are examined 
 the object of each and the connection between them
 
 Ch. $.] STUDY OP THE TUBLE. 
 
 Interest of the children. 
 
 Under the control of a judicious parent, even secular 
 history might be occasionally referred to to thitttv light 
 ypon the subject. We may properly avail ourselves of 
 any helps of this kind, s;> far as their tendency is really 
 to throw light upon the sacred volume. The children of 
 the family soon take a strong interest in the study, their 
 inquiries are encouraged, their curiosity is awakened j 
 they regard it a pleasure, not a task. Instead of the 
 evening of Saturday, the afternoon or evening of tins 
 Sabbath, if more convenient, may be used ; and if the 
 children are members of a Sabbath School, their next 
 lesson may be the subject. Those accustomed to the 
 use of the pen will derive great advantage from writing, 
 each evening, notes or abstracts expressing, in a concise 
 and simple style, the new knowledge they have acquir- 
 ed ; and every difficulty should be noted, that it may be 
 presented at a convenient opportunity to some other 
 Christian student, to the superintendent of the Sabbath 
 School, or to a minister of the GospeK 
 
 This method of studying the scriptures, which I have 
 thus attempted to describe, and which I might illustrate 
 by supposing many oilier cases, is not intended for one 
 class alone ; not for the ignorant peculiarly, nor for the 
 wise ; not for the rich, nor for the poor ; but for all. 
 The solitary widow, in her lonely cottage among the 
 distant mountains, with nothing but her simple Bible in 
 her hand, by the Hght of her evening firr, may pursue 
 this course of comparing Scripture with Scripture, and 
 entering into the spirit of sacred story, throwing herself 
 back to ancient times, and thus preparing herself to grasp 
 more completely, and to feel more vividly the moral les- 
 sons which the Bible is mainly intended to teach. Ami 
 the most cultivated scholar may pursue this course in his 
 quiet study, surrounded by all the helps to a thorough 
 knowledge of the Scriptures which learning can pruJuce 
 or wealth obtain.
 
 226 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8. 
 
 Particular directions. Familiar sounds. 
 
 I hope the specimens I have given are sufficient to 
 convey to my readers the general idea I have in view, 
 when I speak o( studying the Bible, in contradistinction 
 from the mere cursory reading of it, which is so com- 
 mon among Christians. But I must illustrate in minute 
 detail the various methods of doing this; for there are 
 many persons who really wish to study the Bib'e more 
 intellectually, and to receive more vivid impressions from 
 it, but who really do not know exactly what they are to 
 do to secure these objects. I shall therefore describe 
 some of the means which can easily be adopted, and 
 which will be very efficient for this purpose. 
 
 1. Picturing' to the imagination the scenes described. 
 There is a very common difficulty felt by multitudes in 
 reading the Bible, which admits of so sure and easy a re- 
 medy by the above direction, that I cannot avoid devot- 
 ing a few paragraphs to the formal consideration of it. 
 
 A person who is convinced that it is his duty to read 
 the word of God, and who really desires to read it, and 
 to receive instruction from it, sits down on the Sabbath 
 to the work. He opens perhaps to a passage in the Gos- 
 pels, and reads on verse after verse. The phraseology is 
 all perfectly familiar. He has read the same passage a hun- 
 dred times before, and the words fall upon his ear like a 
 sound long familiar, producing no impression and awa- 
 kening no idea. After going through a few verses, he 
 finds that he is making no progress ; perhaps his mind 
 has left his work altogether, and is wandering to some 
 other subject. He begins back therefore a few verses, 
 and endeavors to become interested in the narrative ; but 
 it is to little purpose ; and after spending half an hour in 
 reading, he shuts his book, and instead of feeling that 
 renewed moral strength and peace of mind which cornea 
 from the proper use of the word of God, he feels disap- 
 pointed and dissatisfied, and returns to his other duties 
 more unquiet in spirit than before. What a vast pro-
 
 Cll. 8.] STUDY Of THE BIBLE. 227 
 
 The mottoln the school-room. Description from the Clbie. 
 
 portion of the reading of the Bible, as practised in Chris- 
 tian countries, does this description justly portray. 
 
 Now some one may say that this careless and useless 
 study of God's word arises from a cold and indifferent 
 state of heart toward God. It does unquestionably often 
 arise, in a great degree, from this source, but not entirely. 
 There is another difficulty not connected with the moral 
 Btate of the heart. It is this : 
 
 Words that have been often repeated gradually lose 
 their power to awaken vivid ideas in the mind. The 
 clock which has struck perhaps many thousand times in 
 your room, you at last cease even to hear. On the walls 
 of a school-room there was once painted in large letters, 
 
 "A PLACE FOR EVERY THING, AND EVERY THING IN ITS 
 
 PLACE ;" but after a little time the pupils, becoming fa- 
 miliar with the sight of the inscription, lo?t altogether its 
 meaning ; and a boy would open his disorderly desk and 
 look among the confused mass of books, and slates, and 
 papers there, for some article he had lost, and then as 
 he looked around the room, his eyes would fall on the 
 conspicuous motto, without thinking a moment of the 
 incongruity between its excellent precept and his own 
 disorderly practice. It is always so. The oft-repeated 
 sound falls at last powerless and unheeded on the ear. 
 
 The difficulty then that I am now to consider, is that 
 in reading the Bible, especially those portions which are 
 familiar, we stop with merely repeating once more the 
 words, instead of penetrating fully to the meaning be- 
 yond. In order to illustrate this difficulty and its remedy 
 more fully, let me take a passage, the sixth chapter of St. 
 John for example, to which I have opened at random. 
 
 ' After these things Jesus wei,t over the sea of Galilee, which is the 
 sea of fiberias. And a great multitude followed him, because they 
 saw his miracles which he did on them that were diseased." 
 
 How familiar, now, this sounds to every reader. Every
 
 228 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8. 
 
 Vivid conceptions. 
 
 phrase comes upon the ear like an oft-told tale, but it 
 makes a very slight impression upon the mind. The next 
 verse, though perhaps few of my readers know now what 
 it is, will sound equally familiar when they read it here, 
 
 " And Jesus went up into a mountain, and there he sat with his dis 
 cijiles." 
 
 Now suppose this passage and the verses which fol- 
 low it were read at morning prayer by the master of a 
 family ; how many of the children would hear it without 
 being interested, or receiving any clear and vivid ideas 
 from the description. And how many would there 
 be who, if they were asked two hours afterward what 
 had been read that morning, would be utterly unable to 
 tell. 
 
 But now suppose that this same father could, by 
 gome magic power, show to his children the real scene 
 which these verses describe. Suppose he could go back 
 through the eighteen hundred years which have elapsed 
 since these events occurred, and taking his family to some 
 elevation in the romantic scenery of Palestine, from 
 which they might overlook the country of Galilee, actu- 
 ally see all that this chapter describes. 
 
 " Do you see," he might say, " that wide sea which 
 spreads out beneath us and occupies the whole extent of 
 the valley ? That is the sea of Tiberias ; it is also called 
 the sea of Galilee. All this country which spreads around 
 it is Galilee. Those distant mountains are in Galilee, and 
 that beautiful wood which skirts the shore is a Galilean 
 forest." 
 
 " Why is it called the sea of Tiberias ?" a child might 
 ask. 
 
 'Do you sec at the foot of that hill, on the opposite 
 s'lore of the lake, a small town ? It extends along the 
 /nargin of the water fora considerable distance. That is 
 Tiberias, and the lake sometimes takes its name."
 
 Ch. 8.] STUDY OF THF. BIBLE. 229 
 
 Picturing the aceuu to the mind. 
 
 " But look there is a small boat coming round a 
 point of land which juts out beautifully from this side uf 
 the lake. It is slowly making its way across the water 
 we can almost hear the splashing of the oars. It contains 
 the Savior and some of his disciples. They are steering 
 toward Tiberias now they approach the shore they 
 stop at the landing, and the Savior, followed by his dis- 
 ciples, walks upon the shore." 
 
 Suppose now that this party of observers can remain 
 a little longer at their post, and see in a short time that 
 Borne sick person is brought to the Savior to be healed. 
 Another and another comes. A crowd gradually collects 
 around him. lie retreats slowly i;p the rising gnum I, 
 and after a little time he is seen to take his place upon 
 an elevated spot, where he can overlook and address the 
 throng which has collected around him. 
 
 If this could be done, how strong and how l;iling an 
 impression would be made upon those minds ! Years, 
 and perhaps the whole of life itself, would not obliterate 
 it. Even this faint description, though it brings nothing 
 new to the mind, will probably make a much stronger 
 and more lasting impression than merely reading the 
 narration would do. And what is the reason ? How is it 
 that what I have here said has impressed this scene upon 
 your minds more distinctly than the simple language of 
 the Bible? Why, it is only because I have endeavored 
 to lead you to picture this scene to yovr minds to con- 
 ceive of it strongly and clearly. Now any person can 
 do this for himself in regard to any pasture of Scripture. 
 It is not necessary that I should go on and delineate in 
 this manner the whole of the account. Each reader can, 
 if he will task his imagination, paint fur h'mse/f the 
 scenes which the Bible describes. And if he does bring 
 his intellect and his powers of conception to the work, 
 and read, not merely to repeat, formally and coldly. 
 Bounds already familiar, but to bring to his mind vivid
 
 230 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 6. 
 
 Clear conceptions. 
 
 and clear conceptions of all which is represented there, 
 he will be interested. He will find new and striking 
 scenes coming up continually to view, and will be surpris- 
 ed at the novelty and interest which this simple and easy 
 effort will throw over those very portions of the Bible to 
 which the ear has become most completely familiar. 
 
 I wish now that every one of my readers would really 
 try this experiment. It will do very little good merely 
 to read the foregoing directions and resolve generally to 
 try in future to form vivid and clear conceptions of what 
 is described when you are reading; you must make a 
 particular effort to learn to do this. Now the next time 
 you sit down to reading the Bible, turn to the 5th chap- 
 ter of the Gospel according to St. Luke, and picture to 
 yourself as vividly as possible the scene described there. 
 Do not think of a shore in general, but conceive of some 
 particular shore. Give it shape and form. Let it be 
 rocky or sandy, or high or low, bordered with woods, or 
 with hills, or with meadows. Let it be something dis- 
 tinct. You may, if you please, conceive it to be a long 
 sandy beach, with a lofty bank and a verdant field be- 
 hind ; or you may have it an open wood, sloping gradu- 
 ally down to the water's edge ; or a rocky, irregular coast, 
 full of indentations; or a deep and narrow bay, whose 
 shores are overhung with willows. Let it assume either 
 of these forms, or any other which your fancy may por- 
 tray, and which may suit the circumstances of the narra- 
 tive; only let it be something- distinct clear and dis- 
 tinct in all its parts; so that if you had power to represent 
 upon canvass by painting the conceptions of your mind, 
 you might execute a perfect picture of the whole scene. 
 
 To do this properly will require lime and. thought. 
 You must be alone, or at least uninterrupted, and your 
 first effort will be a difficult one. The power of forming 
 clear and vivid conceptions of this kind varies greatly in 
 different individuals. The faculty can, however, be cu)-
 
 Ch. 8.] STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 231 
 
 West's picture of Christ rejected. Effect upon the assembly. 
 
 tivated and strengthened by exercise. Historical paint- 
 ers, that is, painters of historical scenes, are enabled to 
 r roduce very great effects by the possession of this power. 
 West, for example, formed in his own mind a clear, and 
 vivid, and interesting conception of the scene which was 
 exhibited when the crowd of angry Jews rejected the Sa- 
 vior and called for his crucifixion. He painted this scene, 
 and the great picture which he has thus produced has 
 been gazed at with intense interest by many thousands. 
 
 I saw this picture in the gallery of the Athenaeum at 
 Boston. The gallery is a large and lofty apartment, light- 
 ed by windows above, and containing seats for hundreds. 
 As I came up the stairs which lead into the room, and 
 stepped from them upon the floor of the apartment, I 
 found a large company assembled. The picture, which 
 was, as I should suppose, ten or fifteen feet long, stood 
 against one side of the apartment, and before it, arranged 
 upon the seats, were the assembled spectators, who were 
 gazing with intense interest, and almost in perfect silence, 
 upon the scene. As we came forward before the canvass 
 we felt the same solemn impression which had silenced 
 the others, and it was interesting and affecting to observe, 
 as party after party came up the stairs, talking with usual 
 freedom, that their voices gradually died away, and they 
 stood silent and subdued before the picture of the Sa- 
 vior. 
 
 Yes ; there stood the Savior in the middle of the pic- 
 ture, passive and resigned, and with a countenance whose 
 expression plainly said that his thoughts were far away. 
 The Roman governor stood before his palace endeavor- 
 ing to persuade the mob to consent to their prisoner's re 
 lease. The uncovered and hard-featured soldiery sat at 
 his feet upon the cross which they had been carrying, 
 and were holding in their hands the spikes with which 
 the limbs of the innocent one before them were to be 
 pierced. All the other attendant circumstances were
 
 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. $ 
 
 \Vritingqiiestioiis. God's command to Abraham. 
 
 most vividly and strikingly represented. The mob were 
 there, with fury and rage and hate in every variety upon 
 their countenances. Barabbas was there, with his look 
 of hardened and unsubdued guilt and the centurion's 
 little daughter, whose life Jesus had saved, stood by her 
 father, apparently entreating him to interpose his power 
 to rescue her preserver. 
 
 Now West must have possessed, in order to succeed in 
 executing such a work, the power, first, of forming a clear 
 mental conception of the scene, and secondly, of repre- 
 senting this scene by colors on the canvass. The former 
 of these only is the one necessary for the object I have 
 above described, and you ought, while reading accounts 
 of Scripture scenes, to form as vivid and distinct concep- 
 tions of the scenes described as if you were actually in 
 tending to represent them by the pencil. 
 
 2. Writing questions. A young man, with pen and 
 paper before him, sits down, I will suppose, to the exami- 
 nation of some portion of the Bible, intending to write 
 questions upon the passage, such as he would ask if he 
 were hearing a class in a Sabbath School. Suppose he 
 opens to the account of Abraham's offering Isaac. 
 
 The following is the passage ; I copy it, that the rea- 
 der may the better understand the questions. 
 
 1. And it came to pass after these things, that God did tempt Abra- 
 ham, and said unto him, Abraham ; and hn said, Behold, here I am. 
 
 2. And he said, Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom 
 (lion Invest, and get tliee into the land of Moriah, and offer him there 
 for a burnt ottering upon one of the mountains which I will tell 
 thee of. 
 
 3. And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his ass, 
 niul took two of his young men wilh him, and Isaac his son, and clava 
 the wood for the burnt oJTering, and rose up and went into the place 
 of which God had told him. 
 
 4 Then ott the third day, Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the 
 place afar off. 
 
 6. And Abraham taid unto his young men, Abide je hem with
 
 Ch. 9.] STUDY OP THE BIBLE. 233 
 
 Questions upon the passage. 
 
 the ass: and I and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come 
 again to you. 
 
 He reads this narrative carefully, verse by verse, and 
 writes a question for every important fact stated. Per- 
 haps the questions might be somewhat as follows. The 
 reader, in examining them, is particularly requested to 
 compare the questions individually with the verses in 
 \vhich the answers are contained. I ought also to re- 
 mark, that I do not offer these as examples of good ques- 
 tions, but only as a specimen of such as I suppose most 
 young persons would write. 
 
 1. To what land did God command Abraham to go to 
 offer up his son ? 
 
 2. How was he to be offered ? 
 
 3. Was he to be offered on a mountain ? 
 
 4. How did Abraham travel ? 
 
 5. What time did he set out? 
 
 6. How many attendants had he ? 
 
 7. How long a journey was it? 
 
 8. What is stated in the 6th verse? 
 
 I have written these questions as I imagine they might 
 be written by intelligent young persons. Some of them 
 are however evidently not good. A leading question 
 ought not to be asked, i. e. one so written as to imply 
 what the answer is ; nor ought it to be so written that 
 the answer should be simply yes or no. No. 3 of the 
 above is a leading question. No. 8, too, is a bad ques- 
 tion. It is not important that one should remember what 
 is told in any particular verse. It would have been bet- 
 ter in some such form as this : 
 
 8. What arrangement was made after they arrived at the mountain ? 
 
 In order however, that my readers might understand 
 what is actually attainable by young persons in such an 
 exercise, I asked a boy to write for me some questions
 
 23-i YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 8 
 
 Questions written by a boy. 
 
 on Acts, 19, and I insert them just as he gave them to me. 
 It was his first attempt. 
 
 " When Apollos was at Corinth, what did Paul do ? 
 
 Who did he find there 1 
 
 What did he say to them 7 
 
 What answer did they make 7 
 
 What did he then ask them 
 
 What did they say 7 
 
 What did Paul then say 1 
 
 When Paul had laid his handj upon them, what happened f 
 
 How many men were they 7 
 
 Where did Paul then go 7 
 
 What did he do ? 
 
 What did he do when divers were hardened ? 
 
 For how long a time did this continue 7 
 
 What happened to those who dwelt in Asia 7 
 
 By whose hands did God perform special miracles 7 
 
 In what mariner did Paul heal the sick ? 
 
 What is said in the 13ih verse? 
 
 What is the meaning of exorcist 7 
 
 How many were there that did so 7 
 
 What did the evil spirit say 7 
 
 What did the man in whom was the evil spirit do 7 
 
 What did they do 7 
 
 To whom was this known 'f 
 
 What fell on them 7 
 
 Whose name was magnified 7 
 
 What did many do who believed 7 
 
 What did many do who used curious arts? 
 
 After these things were ended, what did Paul design to do f 
 
 Where did he say he must go after he had been there 7 
 
 Who did he send into Macedonia? 
 
 What were their names 7 
 
 Where did he stay 7 
 
 What happened at that time 7 
 
 What was the cause of it 7 
 
 Who was Demetrius 7 
 
 What accusation did he bring against Paul 7 
 
 What did he say was in danger 7 
 
 What did they do when they heard these things 7 
 
 What happened to the city 7 
 
 What else did they do ? 
 
 What kept Paul from going in to the people 7
 
 Ch. 8.] STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 836 
 
 Many faulty. Utility of writing questions. 
 
 My readers will all see that these questions are, many 
 of them, quite faulty. A second attempt, if the writer 
 had read the remarks I have made, or if he had actually 
 tried his questions upon a class, would probably have 
 been much better. 
 
 If any person will attempt such an exercise as this, he 
 will find it among one of the most efficient means of fix- 
 ing upon his mind the facts contained in any portion of 
 history, which he can possibly devise. In order to make 
 out the question you look at the fact in various aspects 
 and relations. All its connections are considered, and 
 the mind becomes thoroughly familiarized with it ; for 
 you will find, after a very little practice, that the same 
 fact may be made the subject of a great number of diffe- 
 rent questions, and looking at these and choosing between 
 them is a most valuable intellectual exercise. Take for 
 instance the very question I have already spoken of, par- 
 ticularly No. 8. See how many different questions, or 
 rather in how many forms the same question can be ask- 
 ed, some bad and some good, upon the single verse to 
 which it relates. 
 
 1. What did Abraham say to the young men when he 
 reached the mountain ? 
 
 2. What plan did Abraham form when he reached the 
 mountain ? 
 
 3. Did all the party go together to the place where 
 Isaac was to be offered ? 
 
 4. How was the party divided when they reached the 
 mountain ? 
 
 5. How many persons went with Abraham to the place 
 of sacrifice ? 
 
 6. When Abraham went with Isaac alone to the place 
 of sacrifice, what did he say he was going for ? 
 
 7. When Abraham left the young men behind, to go 
 with Isaac alone to the place of sacrifice, what did he say 
 he was going to do?
 
 236 YOUXO CHRISTIAN. [Cll. g 
 
 Many questions upon one verse. Experiment tried by a mother. 
 
 8. What did he tell them he was going to do ? Was 
 this the truth ? Was it the whole truth ? Are we always 
 bound to tell the whole truth ? 
 
 The reader will thus see that one and the same fact 
 may be viewed in so many aspects and relations as to 
 suggest a very large number of questions. After a very 
 little practice, several questions will accordingly suggest 
 themselves at each verse to any individual who attempts 
 the exercise. He will consider which to choose. He will, 
 in thus considering, necessarily view the fact stated under 
 its various aspects, and acquire a far more thorough and 
 permanent knowledge of it than is possible in any other 
 way. So great is the advantage of this method of writing 
 questions upon an author which the pupil desires tho- 
 roughly to understand, that it is not unfrequently adopt- 
 ed in schools each pupil of a class being required to 
 write questions upon a part or upon the whole of a les- 
 son, which questions are then read and answered at the 
 recitation. 
 
 I fancy now that I can hear some one of my readers, ol 
 a mind somewhat mature, saying, " I will myself try this 
 experiment, and after writing the questions, I will read 
 them to some younger members of the family, to see if 
 they can find the answers." Perhaps the individual who 
 resolves on this experiment is the head of a family a 
 mother. She gathers her children around, after the pub- 
 lic services on the Sabbath, and says to them " We will 
 study a chapter in the Bible. / will study, and you shall 
 study. I will read it carefully, and write in this little book 
 all the questions I can think of; and you at the same time 
 may read it attentively, and try to understand it, and re- 
 member what it says. Then after tea we will gather 
 around the table before our bright fire, and I will read my 
 questions, and you may see if you can answer them." 
 
 The children enter with spirit into the plan. They ga- 
 ther into a little circle, and read their lesson aloud, verso
 
 Ch. 8.] STUDY or THE BIBLE. 237 
 
 A Sablj&th-SchooI teacher. 
 
 by verse, questioning each other in regard to its difficul- 
 ties, and endeavoring to anticipate the questions whi<:h 
 the mother is preparing. Even the little Benjamin of the 
 family is interested ; who, though he can scarcely read, 
 looks attentively upon his Bible with the large print, 
 hoping that there will be some easy question which wilt 
 come to him. 
 
 At the appointed hour they gather with eager interest 
 to their recitation. The mother finds that many of her 
 questions are ambiguous, some too difficult, and others 
 could not be answered from fault of the scholars ; still a 
 large proportion are understood and answered. The mo- 
 ral lessons of the chapter are brought to view, and gent- 
 ly but forcibly impressed upon the heart. 
 
 Are you a Sabbath School teacher ? Lay aside your 
 printed question-book for one Sabbath, and write ques- 
 tions yourself upon the lesson of the day. Then com- 
 pare what you have written with those printed for your 
 use. Strike out from your own list all which are upon the 
 other, and carry the rest with you to your class, and say 
 to your pupils somewhat as follows : 
 
 "I have been writing some new questions on this les- 
 son. Now I do not suppose you can answer many of 
 them, because you did not have them while you were 
 studying. But should you like to have me read them to 
 you, and let you try 1" 
 
 You will in such a case find the curiosity and interest 
 of youi- class strongly awakened ; and though your first 
 experiment may not fully succeed, you may say to them, 
 " I will write some more for next week. When you are 
 studying j'our lessons then, I should like to have you re- 
 member that I am writing other questions than those in 
 the book, and endeavor to understand and remember eve- 
 ry fact stated in the lesson, so that you can answer all 
 my questions as well as the printed ones. I know it will 
 be hard, but I presume you can do it."
 
 238 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8. 
 
 3. Re-writing Scripture. The boy's evening work, 
 
 A Sabbath School teacher who will make such efforts 
 as these to render his work more intellectual, and to in- 
 terest himself and his pupils more deeply in the thorough 
 study of their lessons, will find that both himself and his 
 pupils will advance with at least double rapidity. 
 
 3. Re-writing portions of Scripture. Read, or rather 
 study some portion of Scripture thoroughly, and then 
 write the substance of it in your own language. I can 
 illustrate this best perhaps by repeating the following 
 dialogue. It is, I will suppose, Sabbath evening : the 
 family are going out, and one son, a boy of fourteen, is to 
 be left at home. 
 
 " What shall I do this evening?" asks the son. 
 
 " What would you like to do?" 
 
 " I don't know. I am to be all the evening alone, and I 
 want something to employ my time." 
 
 The father turns to the 5th chapter of Luke, and says : 
 
 "Take this chapter, read the first eleven verses, and 
 form a clear and distinct conception of the whole scene, 
 ust as if you had witnessed it. Then write an account 
 of it in your own language. Be careful to write entirely 
 in your own language." 
 
 " Must I not use the language of the Bible at all ?" 
 
 " No. You have two seperate things to do. First read 
 the account attentively and thoroughly, in order to form 
 in your own mind a distinct picture of the whole. Try 
 to see it as plainly as if you had stood upon the bank and 
 actually looked down upon the whole transaction. Then 
 shut your Bible, and write your own account of it, just 
 as if you were writing a letter to me, and describing sonic- 
 thing which you had yourself seen." 
 
 Now suppose the boy engages in this work in the man- 
 ner described above, with how much more interest than 
 usual will he read the passage ! He will scrutinize it 
 carefully ; examine every circumstance of the narrative
 
 Cll. S.j STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 239 
 
 Actual case. Passage. Difficulty arising. 
 
 minutely, and notice many points of interest which wouid 
 ordinarily escape him. 
 
 Once when I asked a lad, under circumstances similar 
 to the above, to re-write this passage, he had not been 
 live minutes at his work before he came with a question 
 which I presume hundreds of my readers have never 
 thought to ask, though they all have doubtless read the 
 passage again. I must, however, first give the passage. 
 
 LUKE 5:1. 
 
 1. And it came to pass that as the people pressed upon him to hear 
 the word of God, he stood by the lake of Gennesaret, 
 
 2. And saw two ships standing by the lake ; but the fishermen were 
 gone out of them, and were washing their nets. 
 
 3. And he entered into one of the ships, which was Simon's, and 
 prayed him that he would thrust out a little from the land. And he 
 sat down and (aught the people out of the ship. 
 
 4. Now when he had left speaking, he said unto Simon, Launch out 
 into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught. 
 
 5. And Simon answering, said unto him, Master, we have toiled all 
 the night, and have taken nothing; nevertheless, at thy word I will 
 let down the net. 
 
 6. And when they had this done, they enclosed a great multitude of 
 fishes ; and their net brake. 
 
 7. And they beckoned unto their partners, which were in the other 
 ship, that they should come and help them. And they came, and fill- 
 ed both the ships, so that they began to sink. 
 
 8. When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, 
 Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord. 
 
 9. For he was astonished, and all that were with him, at the draught 
 of the fishes which they had taken : 
 
 10. And so was also James and John, the sons of Zebedee, which 
 were partners with Simon. And Jesus said unto Simon, Fear not, 
 from henceforth thou shall catch men. 
 
 11. And when they had brought their ships to land they forsook 
 all and followed him. 
 
 The difficulty proposed was this : 
 "In the second verse," says he, " it is said that the fish- 
 ermen had gone out of their boats, and were washing
 
 240 YOUNG CHRISTIAN*. [Ch. 8 
 
 Explanation of if. The Paraphrase 
 
 their nets, but in the third, Christ enters one of them 
 and asks Simon to move off a little from the shore ; that 
 seems as if Simon was in his boat." 
 
 How apparent was it from this question, that he was 
 reading the Bible understanding!}', and not merely re- 
 peating once more the familiar sounds by which the 
 scenes of that passage are described ! Upon a little re- 
 flection, it was manifest that Simon might have remained 
 in his boat, while the fishermen generally had gone 
 ashore ; or he might have stood near, so as to be easily 
 addressed by the Savior. The difficulty vanished in a 
 moment. But, by the ordinary, dull, sluggish reading of 
 the Bible, both difficulty and solution would have been 
 alike unseen. 
 
 The following was the description produced in this 
 case : I copy it without alteration, that my readers may 
 see, from actual inspection of an actual example, what de- 
 gree of success they may expect to attain. 
 
 " Once, as Jesus was standing near a lake called Gennesaret, a great 
 multitude crowded around him, wishing to have him address them. 
 lie saw near the shore t\vo fishing vessels, but the fishermen h.id 
 gone away to clean their nets. He went into one of them, which be- 
 longed to Simon, and asked him to shove the vessel out a little way 
 into the water, and he talked to the people from the deck. When he 
 had finished, he told Simon to go out into the sea and cast in their 
 nets in order to get some fish. And Simon said to him, we have 
 been working all night and have not caught any thing, but as you 
 have desired it, we will let down our nets again. Having done it. 
 they took a great many fishes, and their net was broken, and there 
 were so many fishes that both ships were filled and began to sink. 
 Simon was so much astonished, nnd they that were with him, at tak- 
 ing so many fishes this time, when they had been laboring all night 
 and caught nothing, that (he fell down before Jesus, saying, Depart 
 from me, for I am a sinful man.) Simon's companions, James and 
 John, were also surprised at the fishes. And when they had brought 
 their ships to the shore, they left all their things and followed Jesus." 
 
 The part cncloosd in a parenthesis is Scripture language,
 
 Ch. 8.] STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 241 
 
 Story of Micah. 
 
 The boy said he could not express that idea in any other 
 way, and he adopted that method of indicating that the 
 language of the Bible was, in that clause, retained. 
 
 I have obtained also several other specimens of a si- 
 milar character, written by persons of different ages and 
 of various intellectual attainments ; two or three of which 
 I will insert here. The reader will observe that these 
 were written by persons of very different degrees of men- 
 tal maturity. The style is very dissimilar in the different 
 specimens, and they show therefore more distinctly that 
 the exercise is of such a nature as to be adapted to every 
 age and capacity 
 
 THE STORY OF HICAH. 
 
 " A woman belonging (o one of the tribes of the Israelites, from a 
 mistaken idea of true religion, resolved to procure some images for 
 her household worship, intending to consecrate* her son to act as 
 priest. She accordingly dedicated to the Lord the sum to be paid for 
 making the images, and laid it aside for the purpose. This money 
 was stolen from her by Micah, the very son for whose benefit chiefly 
 she had formed the plan. Upon missing the money, die was greatly 
 enraged, and pronounced, in the hearing of her son, the severest im- 
 precations upon the sacrilegious thief. This so terrified Mica!) that 
 he confessed his crime and restored tbe money to las mother. Her 
 joy was very great at receiving again her treasure. She told her son 
 to what purpose it was appropriated, and they accordingly procured the 
 images. It was agreed that instead of Micah, one of his sons should 
 act as priest, until a more suitable person should be obtained. The 
 son was accordingly provided with sacerdotal apparel and consecrat- 
 ed to the priesthood. 
 
 Under these circumstances the idol worship went on for some time, 
 until there came one day to the house of Micah a wandering Levile, 
 by the name of Jonathan. This man seemed to be out of employ- 
 ment, and being of the Levites, the tribe set apart for the holy offices, 
 Micah thought he should do well to retain him as his family priest. 
 Accordingly, he made to him proposals to this efl'ect, offering him 
 for his services, his board, one suit of clothes, and a small sum i:t 
 money a year. Jonathan very gladly agreed to these terms, and WM 
 forthwith constituted priest. 
 
 11
 
 242 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8. 
 
 Story of Micali continued. 
 
 " It happened soon after, that there came to Micah's house a number 
 of men who had been sent out by the tribe of Dan to survey the 
 adjacent country, with a view to enlarging their own territories. 
 When these men came to Micah's house they recognized witji sur- 
 prise the voice of the newly consecrated priest. They inquired hovr 
 he came there, and what he was ubout. The Lexite told them hit 
 story ; and the Danites seem to have regarded the circumstances of 
 the affair as perfectly proper; for they even requested that he would 
 inquire of the Lord for them, if they should meet with success in 
 Iheir present expedition. The Levite pretended to make the inquiry, 
 nnil returned to them a favorable answer. The event was such a* 
 Ihe Levile predicted. The Danites succeeded in driving before them 
 the inhabitants of the territories they wished to possess. After the 
 conquest, as the army were passing the house of Micali, the five men 
 who had first been sent out, and who had stopped at this house, in* 
 formed the others that there were in it a graven and a molten image, 
 and a priest with an ephod ; and perhaps intimating that in their new 
 ettleinent they would themselves need such an establishment, they 
 inquired what had best be done. After some deliberation, it was 
 agreed forcibly to take from Micah his images and the sacerdotal gar- 
 ment?, and to entice the priest to go with them. Accordingly, while 
 the rest of the army remained as guards at the entrance of the house, 
 the five men before mentioned went in and commenced their depre- 
 dations. The priest inquired in amazement what they were about. 
 " Hush !" said the men ; " say nothing and go with us ; will it not be 
 more to your advantage to be the priest of a -whole tribe than of only 
 one man 1" The Levite was overjoyed at the proposal, and prepared 
 immediately to set out with them. 
 
 "Great was the dismay of Micah upon finding himself thus robbed 
 uf priest and gods. He called his neighbors to his assistance, and 
 collecting a small company together, he went in pin-suit of the de- 
 predators. As he approached the army, they inquired of him why 
 he had come out with such a company. "What ails you?'' said 
 they. " What ails me!" replied Micah ; "you have taken from me 
 iny priest and my gods, and now you ask What ails me !" " You had 
 uetter return to your house," said some one of the number, " or you 
 will lose your life." Seeing that there was no possibility of prevail- 
 ing against hundreds of armed men, Micah took the advice of the 
 Danite and returned home. 
 
 " Meanwhile the army of the Danites pursued their way to the place 
 of their destination, where they established the worship of their sto- 
 len images, under the direction of the runaway priest."
 
 Ch. 8.] STUDY OP THE BIBLE. 243 
 
 Two specimens on ihc same subject. 
 
 The two following are upon the same subject, but the 
 writers were 17 and 11 years of age. They are accord- 
 ingly very different in their style and character. 
 
 BELSHA7.ZAIVS FEAST. 
 
 "The king of Babylon, named Belshazzar, made a great feast (or 
 all his lords, his wives, and concubines. And he sent and took from 
 (he house of the Lord (he golden and silver vessels, and he and his 
 company drank wine out of them. While (hey were enjoying in 
 impious inirlh the feasl, (he f:ngers of a man's hand were seen on the 
 plastering of the wall, over against the candlestick. Then was (he 
 king very much frightened, and his knees smote against each other. 
 He sent for all the wise men in the kingdom to read (he writing, but 
 (hey could not. Then he called aloud again, If any man can read it 
 he shall be clothed in scarlet, and have a chain of gold around his 
 neck, and shall be the third ruler in the kingdom. Then came in 
 his wife the queen, to (all him (hat (here was a man who could inter- 
 pret dreams, whose name was Daniel. He read (he wriiing. Mene 
 God hall, finished (hy kingdom. Tekel Thou art weighed, and art 
 found wanting. 
 
 " Pere Thy kingdom is given to the Medes and Persians. Then 
 was a proclamation made (hat he was (he third ruler in the kingdom. 
 
 " And the same night the king died." 
 
 STORY OF BELSHAZZAR. 
 
 " It was night ; but the usual stillness of that hour was broken by 
 the sounds of feasting and revelry. It hail been a festival day in Ba 
 bylon, and the inha!iitari(s had not yet sunk into repose. The song 
 and the dance still continued, and (he voice of music was heard. All 
 seemed in perfect security, and no precautions had been taken to avoid 
 (he danger which hung over their devoted heads. An invading army 
 was, even (hen, surrounding (he walls of the city : bu( (hose who ought 
 to have defended it, confident and secure, left it unguarded and ex- 
 posed to the attacks of the enemy. Fear was excludjd even from the 
 walls of the palace, and the monarch was giving his own example of 
 rioting and mirth to his subjects. A thousand of the noblest lords in 
 his kingdom were feasting with him, as his invited guests. They bad 
 already "ta'ried long a( the wine," when Belshazzar. in the pride and 
 impiety <>i his heart, commanded his servants to bring the silver and 
 golden vessels which had been taken by his grandfather Nebuchad-
 
 S44 YOtJNO CHPISTIAW. [Ch. 9. 
 
 Questions. 
 
 nezzar from the temple at Jerusalem. They were brought and fill- 
 ed with wine ; and as they drank it, they extolled their gods of wood 
 mi J of stone. 
 
 " But while they were thus sacrilegiously employed, their mirth was 
 suddenly changed into amazement and consternation. A hand like 
 that of a man was seen to write upon the wall of the palace, and a 
 they gazed upon it, it traced the sentence, " Mene, Mene, Tekel, U- 
 phnrsin." No one among that vast company understood its meaning, 
 but to their affrighted imagination it was fall of portentous import 
 The king, who was exceedingly terrified, sent in haste for all the as- 
 trologers, and those persons in whose powers of divination he had 
 been accustomed to place confidence ; but none could explain the 
 mysterious warning. At this juncture the queen entered, and inform- 
 ed the king that Daniel was in the city, and that he was supposed to 
 possess the wisdom of the Gods. He was hastily summoned into the 
 royal presence, and after reproving the trembling and condemned 
 monarch foi the pride of heart which he had manifested, revealed to 
 him the doom which was pronounced upon him. He told him that 
 liis kingdom and his- own life were nearly at a close ; that his empire 
 should be divided between the Medes and Persians: and also that his 
 own character had been examined, and found lamentably deficient. 
 
 " The reward which had been promised was now bestowed upon 
 Daniel. He was arrayed in a kingly robe, adorned with a golden 
 chain, and proclaimed the third in authority in the kingdom. Lre tho 
 next rising sun Bclshazzar was numbered with the dead." 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 At what time am] under what circumstances had the golden and sil 
 ver vessels been taken from the temple at Jerusalem ? 
 
 In what language was the writing upon the wall; and why could no 
 one of the wise men of Babylon interpret it .' 
 
 Why were the Chaldean* included among the astrologers and xontb- 
 sayers ? 
 
 The original writing was, " Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin ;" why, 
 in the interpretation, is Peru substituted for Upharsin? 
 
 It is a very good plan to write questions at the close 
 of such an exercise as in the last specimen, bringing up 
 difficulties which have occurred to the writer while read- 
 ing and 'writing the account. These questions can be 
 subsequently proposed to some person qualified to an
 
 Ch. 8.] STUDY or THE BIBLE. 245 
 
 4 Collating Ihe Scriptures. Plan tried by James and John. 
 
 ewer them. The whole plan may be adopted more or 
 less extensively, according to the time and taste of the 
 individual. I knew a young man who re-wrote the whole 
 book of the Acts in this way. The result he preserved 
 in a neat manuscript, and the effort undoubtedly im- 
 pressed the facts on his memory with a distinctness 
 which remained for years. 
 
 4. Collating the Scriptures, The next method I shall 
 describe, by which variety and efficiency can be given to 
 your study of the Scriptures, may be called collation. 
 It consists of carefully comparing two or more different 
 accounts of the same transaction. 
 
 To illustrate it, I will imagine that two young per- 
 sons sit down on a Sabbath afternoon by their fireside 
 to read the Bible, and they conclude to collate the seve- 
 ral accounts of Paul's conversion. To show that this 
 exercise does not require any advanced age, or maturity 
 of mind, I will imagine that the scholars are quite 
 young, and will give in detail the conversation, as we 
 might imagine it in such a case to be. We will suppose 
 James to be thirteen or fourteen years of age, and John 
 some years younger. 
 
 John. " Well, what shall we read ?" 
 
 James. "I think it would be a good plan for us to read 
 and compare the two accounts of the conversion of Paul. 
 Here is the first account in the ninth chapter of the Acts, 
 and I believe he afteiward gave some account of it him- 
 self in his speech." 
 
 John. " What speech ?" 
 
 James. " Some speech he made at his trial. I will try 
 to find it ; it is somewhere in the las*, part of ths book of 
 Acts." 
 
 The boys turn over the leaves of thei** Bibles, until at 
 last James says, 
 
 " Here it is ; I have found it ; it is in the 26th 
 chapter."
 
 246 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8. 
 
 Three accounts of Paul's conversion. 
 
 " No," says John, " it is in the 22d ; it begins at the 
 4th verse." 
 
 James. "Let me see it. O, there are two accounts 
 in his speeches ; that makes three in all. Would you 
 compare them all?" 
 
 John. " Yes; we can put O'ir fingers into all the places, 
 and read one verse of one, and then one verse of ano- 
 thei, and so go through." 
 
 James. " Well, let us see where these two speeches 
 were made." 
 
 The boys then examine the introductory remarks con- 
 nected with these two addresses of the Apostle, and learn 
 before whom and under what circumstances they were 
 made, and then proceed with their comparison. 
 
 James. " I will read first in the ninth chapter." 
 
 1. "And Saul, yet breathing out threatenings and 
 slaughter against the disciples of the Lord, went unto the 
 high priest. 
 
 2. "And desired of him letters to Damascus, to the sy- 
 nagogues, that if he found any of this way, whether they 
 were men or women, he might bring them bound unto 
 Jerusalem." 
 
 " Now you may read as much," he continues, " in the 
 22d chapter." 
 
 John. " Where shall I begin ?" 
 
 James. (Looking at the passage), " At the 5th verse, 
 I believe." 
 
 John. (Reading.) 5. " As also the high priest doth 
 bear me witness, and all the estate of the elders ; from 
 whom also I received letters unto the brethren, and went 
 to Damascus, to bring them which were there bound unto 
 Jerusalem, for to be punished." 
 
 " Ho you see any difference, James?" 
 
 James. "Yes; there are two differences: it saj-s in 
 the first accoun that he took letters from the high 
 priest alone ; and in the second, from the elders too
 
 Ch. 8.J STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 24t 
 
 Effect oi this method. 
 
 all the estate of the ciders. It says too, in the first ac- 
 count, that his letters were to the synagogues^ but in the 
 second, that they were to the brethren." 
 
 Boys of twelve years of age would probably see no 
 fariher than to notice such obvious points of comparison 
 as those I have mentioned: but a maturer mind, attempt- 
 ing this same exercise, would go far deeper, and conse- 
 quently with a stronger interest, into the subject. Such 
 an one will take great pleasure in observing how every 
 expression in the account in the 22d chapter corresponds 
 with the circumstances in which Paul was placed. He 
 was in Jerusalem. A great popular tumult had been ex- 
 cited against him. A few of his determined enemies had, 
 by the arts with which it is always easy for bad men to 
 inflame the multitude, urged them on almost to fury, and 
 an immense throng had gathered around him, with the 
 marks of the most determined hostility in their looks 
 and gestures and actions. At this moment a Roman mi- 
 litary force appeared for his rescue; he was drawn out 
 from the crowd, and standing upon the stairs of the castle, 
 above the tumultuous sea from which he had been saved, 
 he attempts to address the assembly. 
 
 He had been represented to the crowd as a foreigner -- 
 an Egyptian, who had come to Jerusalem to excite sedi- 
 tion and tumult; and of course his first aim would na- 
 turally be to destroy this impression, and present himself 
 before this assembly as their fc-llow countryman one 
 who had long resided among them, and had regarded 
 them as brethren. How natural is it therefore that he 
 should speak so distinctly of his connection with the 
 Jewish nation! He commences his account with the 
 statement that he is a Jew by birth, .by education, and 
 by feelings. This peculiarity in the speaker's condition 
 accounts most fully and in a most interesting manner for 
 the difference between the expressions which he uses 
 here, and those used in the 9ih chapter. Where, in the
 
 243 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8. 
 
 Advantages of the plan. List of Lessons 
 
 narrative, the high priest only was alluded to in the 
 defence, the speaker mentions respectfully all the estate 
 of the ciders. The historian, employing the simple his- 
 torical style, says that Paul went with letters to the syna- 
 gogues. The orator, in his effort to allay irritated feel- 
 ing, uses the word brethren a term equally correct, but 
 far more suitable to his purpose. 
 
 I make these remarks, not to go into a commentary 
 upon Paul's speech, but to show what kind of reflections 
 will occur to an intelligent mind, in thus collating diffe- 
 rent portions of the sacred volume. Notice every diffe- 
 rence ; and endeavor to discover, in the circumstances of 
 the case, its cause. You will find by so doing that new 
 and striking beauties will arise to view at every step ; 
 the pages of the Bible will look brighter and brighter, 
 with meaning hitherto unseen, and you will find new 
 exhibitions of character and conduct so natural and yet so 
 simple as to constitute almost irresistible evidence of 
 the reality of the scenes which the sacred history de- 
 scribes. 
 
 There are a great many of the events of which two dif- 
 ferent accounts are given in the Bible, which may be ad- 
 vantageously collated in the manner I have described. 
 In hopes that some of my readers will study the Scrip- 
 tures in this way, I enumerate some of them. 
 
 LESSONS. 
 
 Solomon's Choice. 1 Kings and 2 Chronicles. 
 Dedication of the Temple. 1 Kings, 2 Chronicles. 
 Revolt of the Ten Tribes. 1 Kings, 2 Chronicles. 
 Story of Elisha. 
 Story of Elijah. 
 
 Story of Hczekiah. Kings, Chronicles, and Isaiah. 
 Genealogical Line from Adam to Abraham. Genesis 
 and 1 Chronicles.
 
 Ch. 8.] STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 249 
 
 Difficulties to be anticipated. 
 
 Catalogue of the Kings of Israel. Kings and Chro- 
 nicles. 
 
 Catalogue cf tlic Kings of Judak. Kings and Chro- 
 nicles. 
 
 Preaching of John the Baptist. Matthew, Mark, Luke, 
 and John. 
 
 The Temptation of Christ. Matthew, Mark, and 
 Luke. 
 
 The Savior's Arrest. Four Evangelists, 
 
 His Trial. Four Evangelists. 
 
 His Death. Four Evangelists. 
 
 His Resurrection. Four Evangelists. 
 
 Institution of the Lord's Supper. Matthew and 1 Co- 
 rinthians. 
 
 Genealogy of Christ. Matthew and Luke. 
 
 The above subjects vary very rmich in th degree of 
 intellectual effort necessary for their examination, and in 
 nearly all the reader will often be involved in difficulties 
 which he cannot easily remove. If we merely read the 
 Bible, chapter after chapter, in sluggish and formal 
 manasr, we see little to interest us and little to perplt-x ; 
 but in tii^ more thorough and scrutinizing mode of study 
 which I here suggest, both by this mode and the others 
 I have been describing, we shall find beauties and diffi- 
 culties coming up together. Let every one then who 
 undertakes such a collation of different accounts, expect 
 difficulty. Do not be surprised at apparent contradic- 
 tions in the narrative ; you will find many. Do not bo 
 surprised when you find various circumstances in the dif 
 ferent accounts which you find it impossible for you to 
 bring together into one view ; you must expect such 
 difficulties. Look at them calmly and patiently ; seek 
 solutions from commentaries and from older Christians, 
 and what you cannot by these means understand, quietly 
 leave. A book which, under divine guidance, employed
 
 250 YODNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8 
 
 The Sabbath. Jerusalem' 
 
 the pens of from fifty to a hundred writers scattered 
 through a period of 4000 years; whose scenes extend 
 over a region of immense extent, and whose narratives 
 are involved with the most minute history of all the great 
 nations of antiquity Babylon, Assyria, Persia, Greece, 
 and Rome such a book you must not expect to under 
 stand fully in a day. 
 
 5. Studying by subjects. Select some subject upon 
 which a good deal of information may be found in vari- 
 ous parts of the Bible, and make it your object to bring 
 together into one view all that the Bible says upon that 
 subject. Take for instance the life of the Apostle Peter. 
 Suppose you make it your business on one Sabbath, with 
 the help of a brother, or sister, or any other friend who 
 will unite with you in the work, to obtain all the infor- 
 mation which the Bible gives in regard to him. By the 
 help of the Concordance you find all the places in which 
 he is mentioned you compare the various accounts in 
 the four gospels ; see in what they agree and in what 
 they differ. After following down his history as far 
 as the Evangelists bring it, you take up the book of the 
 Acts, and go through that for information in regard to 
 this Apostle, omitting those parts which relate to other 
 subjects. In this way you become fully acquainted with 
 his character and history ; you understand it as a whole. 
 
 Jerusalem is another good subject, and the examina- 
 tion would afford scope for the exercise of the faculties 
 of the highest minds for many Sabbaths : find when the 
 city is first named, and from the manner in which it is 
 mentioned, and the circumstances connected with the 
 earliest accounts of it, ascertain what sort of a city it 
 was at that time. Then follows its history down ; notice 
 the changes as they occur; understand every revolution, 
 examine the circumstances of every battle and siege of 
 which it is the scene, and thus become acquainted with 
 its whole story down to the time when the sacred narra-
 
 Cll. 8.J STUDY OF THE B1BI.E. 251 
 
 The Sabbath. List of topics. 
 
 lion leaves ft. To do this well, will require patient and 
 careful investigation. You cannot do it as you can read 
 a chapter, carelessly and with an unconcerned and unin- 
 terested mind ; you must, if you would succeed in suck 
 an investigation, engage in it in earnest. And that is the 
 very advantage of such a method of study; it breaks up 
 effectually that habit of listless, dull, inattentive reading 
 of the Bible which so extensively prevails. 
 
 You may take the subject of the Sabbath; examine the 
 circumstances of its first appointment, and then follow 
 its history down, so far as it is given in the Bible, to the 
 last Sabbath alluded to on the sacred pages. 
 
 The variety of topics which might profitably be studied 
 in this way is vastly greater than would at first be sup- 
 posed. There arc a great number of biographical and 
 geographical topics a great number which relate to 
 manners, and customs, and sacred instructions. In fact, 
 the whole Bible may be analyzed in this way, and its va- 
 rious contents brought before the mind in new aspects, 
 and with a freshness and vividness which, in the mere 
 repeated reading of the Scriptures in regular course 
 can never be seen. It may assist the reader who is dis- 
 posed to try the experiment, if I. present a small list ; it 
 might be extended easily to any length. 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL TOPICS. 
 
 Hezekiah. Herod. 
 
 Daniel. John the Baptist, 
 
 Elijah. Peter. 
 
 Elisha. Nicodemus. 
 
 Isaiah. Judas. 
 
 Jeremiah. 
 
 GEOGRAPHICAL AND HISTORICAL TOPIC* 
 
 Jerusalem. Sea of Galilee. 
 
 Egypt. Tyre.
 
 252 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8. 
 
 Too little intellectual study of the Bible. 
 
 Nile. Sidon. 
 
 Babylon. Philistines. 
 
 Red Sea. Moabitcs. 
 
 Jordan. Ammonites. 
 
 Damascus. Ethiopia. 
 Samaria. 
 
 TOPICS RELATING TO RELIGIOUS RITES. 
 
 Sacrifices. Ark of the Covenant. 
 
 Sabbath. Tabernacle. 
 
 Pentecost. Baptism. 
 
 Feast of Tabernacles. Lord's Supper. 
 
 Passover. Synagogues. 
 Fasting. 
 
 There are various other methods which might be men- 
 tioned and described ; but enough has been said to ena- 
 ble, I think, any one who is disposed, to engage at once, 
 for a short time each Sabbath, in such an intellectual 
 study of the Bible. Parents can try the experiments I 
 have above described in their families ; and Sabbath 
 school teachers can try them in their classes. Sabbath 
 schools would be astonishingly improved at once, if the 
 teachers would put their ingenuity into requisition to de- 
 vise and execute new plans, so as to give variety to the 
 exercises. There would be a spirit and interest exhibited, 
 both by teacher and pupil, which the mere servile reading 
 of printed questions, and listening to answers mechani- 
 cally committed, never can produce. 
 
 There is far too little of this intellectual study of the 
 Bible, even among the most devoted Christians. Its lite- 
 rature, its history, its biography, the connection of its 
 parts all are very little understood. It is indeed true, 
 that the final aim of the Bible is to teach us personal 
 religious duty. It comes to the conscience not to tho 
 literary taste of men ; and is designed to guide their de-
 
 Ch. 8.] STODY OP THE uibi.E. S53 
 
 Object of the historic form. 
 
 votions, not to gratify their curiosity, or their Jove of his- 
 toric truth. But why is it that God has chosen the historic 
 form, as a means of communicating his truth ? Why is it 
 that his communications with mankind were for so many 
 years so completely involved with the political history of 
 a powerful nation, that that whole history must be given? 
 Why is our Savior's mission so connected with the Ro- 
 man government, and all this connection so fully detailed 
 that no inconsiderable portion of the geography, and 
 customs, and laws of that mighty empire are detailed in 
 the Evangelists and Acts? The moral lessons which our 
 Savior taught might have been presented in their simple 
 didactic form. The whole plan of salvation, through the 
 sufferings of a Redeemer, might have been given us in 
 one single statement, instead of leaving us to gather it 
 piece by piece from multitudes of narratives, and ad- 
 dresses, and letters. Why is it then, that instead of one 
 simple proclamation from the Majesty on high, we have 
 sixty or seventy different books, introducing us to the 
 public history of twenty nations, and to the minutest in- 
 cidents in the biographies of a thousand men? Why, it 
 is that we may be excited by the interest of incident and 
 story; that religion and impiety may be respectively pre- 
 sented to us in living and acting reality ; and that the 
 principles of God's government, and of his dealing with 
 men, may come to us in all the vividness of actual fact. 
 If then we neglect to understand this history as history, 
 and to enter into all the incidents which are detailed, 
 we lose the very benefit which the Spirit had in view in 
 making the Bible such a volume as it is. Without such 
 an occasional effort to make the Scriptures a study, ex- 
 amining them intellectually, comparing one part \vith 
 another, and endeavoring to bring vividly to view the 
 scenes which they present to our minds, it may safely 
 be said that no one can truly understand the Bible, or
 
 S54 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8. 
 
 Reading practically. Daily reading of the Hible. 
 
 enter into the spirit of its descriptions, its warnings, and 
 its appeals. 
 
 But after all, the great object in studying the Bible is 
 not merely to understand it. The revelation which God 
 has made, is a message sent, not to the intellect, but to 
 (he consciences and hearts of men ; and unless it reaches 
 the conscience and the heart, it entirely fails of accom- 
 plishing its object. We ought indeed to gain an intel- 
 lectual knowledge of it, but that is only to be considered 
 as a means to enable us the more fully to apply to our 
 own characters and conduct the practical lessons which 
 it teaches. 
 
 The Sabbath seems, for most persons, the most propei 
 time for the systematic study of the Scriptures, but a por- 
 tion of it should be read practically every day. This 
 part of my subject does not need so full an illustration 
 as the other, for the great difficulty in regard to reading 
 the Scriptures practically, is a want of disposition to do 
 it They who really wish to learn their duty and over- 
 come their temptations, who desire that the sins of their 
 hearts and lives should be brought to their view by the 
 word of God, will easily make for themselves an applica 
 tion of the truths which the Bible contains. 
 
 Will not all my readers do this, faithfully and perse- 
 veringly? Resolve to bring a short portion of the pre- 
 ceptive or devotional parts of the Scriptures home to your 
 heart every day ; and let your object be, in this daily 
 reading of the Bible, not so much to extend your intel- 
 lectual view of the field opened to you in its pages, as to 
 increase its moral and spiritual influence upon your heart 
 and conduct. Be not so careful, then, to read this exact 
 quantity, or that ; but to bring home some portion really 
 and fully to the heart and to the conscience to do it so 
 forcibly, that the influence of those few verses read Mid 
 pondered in the morning, will go with you through the day. 
 
 Reading the Bible, is however sometimes practised
 
 Ch. 8.J STUDY OF THE BIBLU. 255 
 
 Useless reading. The Apprentice. 
 
 with a very different spirit from this. A boy, for exam- 
 ple, whose parent or whose Sabbath School teacher has 
 convinced him that he ought to read the Bible daily, 
 takes his book and sits down by the fire, and reads away, 
 rapidly and thoughtlessly, the portion which comes in 
 course.- He looks up occasionally, to observe the sports 
 of his brothers and sisters, or to join in their conversa- 
 tion, and then returns again to the verse he left. In fif- 
 teen minutes he rises from his seat, shuts his book, and 
 pushes it into its place upon the shelf, saying, " There I 
 have read my chapter ;" and this is the last he knows 
 or thinks of the Bible during the day. 
 
 Consider now another case. In an unfurnished and 
 almost an unfinished little room, in some crowded alley 
 of a populous city, you may see a lad, who has just arisen 
 from his humble bed, and is ready to go forth to his daily 
 duties. He is a young apprentice and must almost im- 
 mediately go forth to kindle his morning fire, and to pre- 
 pare his place of business for the labors of the day. He 
 first, however, takes his little testament from his chest 
 and breathes, while he opens it, a silent prayer that God 
 will fix the lesson that he is about to read, upon his con- 
 science and his heart. " Holy Spirit !" whispers he, " let 
 me apply the instructions of this book to myself, and let 
 me be governed by it to-day ; so that I may perform faith- 
 fully all my duties to myself, to my companions, to my 
 master, and to Thee." He opens the book, and reads 
 perhaps as follows : " Be kindly affectioned one to 
 another, with brotherly love, with honor preferring one 
 another." He pauses his faithful self-applying thoughts 
 run through the scenes through which he is that day to 
 pass, and he considers in what cases this verse ought to 
 influence him. ' Be kindly affectioned /' I must treat my 
 brothers and sisters, and all my companions, kindly to- 
 day. I must try to save them trouble, and to promote 
 their happiness. ' In honor preferring- one another.' As
 
 250 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 8. 
 
 Reading two verses aright. 
 
 he sees these words, he sighs to reflect how many times 
 he has been jealous of his fellow-apprentices on account 
 of marks of trust and favor shown to them, or envious 
 of the somewhat superior privileges enjoyed by those 
 older than himself, and he prays that God will forgive 
 him, and make him humble and kind-hearted in future, 
 to all around him. 
 
 " Not slothful in business ; fervent in spirit ; serving 
 the Lord." He stops to consider whether he is habitually 
 industrious, improving all his time in such a manner 
 as to be of the greatest advantage to his master ; whe- 
 ther he is fervent in spirit, i. e. cordially devoted to 
 God's service, and full of benevolent desires for the hap- 
 piness of all ; whether he serves the Lord in what he 
 does, i. e. whether all his duties are discharged from mo- 
 tives of love to his Maker and Preserver. While he thus 
 muses, the fire burns. He shuts his book, and asks God to 
 protect him, as he now must go out into the labors and 
 temptations of the day. God does bless and protect him. 
 He has read indeed, but two verses ; but these verses 
 he carries in his heart, and they serve as a memorial of 
 kindness and love to man, and fidelity toward God, 
 which accompanies him wherever he goes, and keeps him 
 safe and happy. The Bible is thus a light to his feet and 
 a lamp to his paths. Which, now, of these, do you 
 think, reads the Bible aright? 
 
 Let no child who reads this understand me to say 
 that I consider two verses enough of the Bible to read 
 each day. What I mean by this case is, that so much 
 more depends upon the spirit and manner with which 
 the Bible is read, than the quantity that a very small 
 portion, properly read, may be far more useful than a 
 much larger quantity hurried over in a careless and 
 thoughtless manner. No. precise rules can be given in 
 regard to quantity ; it must vary with circumstances, and 
 of these the individual must, in most cases, be the judge.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SABBATH. 
 
 M Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy." 
 
 MY readers are undoubtedly generally aware that the 
 present obligation to keep the Sabbath has been, by 
 some persons, denied, on the ground that keeping one 
 day in seven holy is a sort of ceremony, and that it was 
 only intended to be required of the Jewish nation. I do 
 not intend, in this chapter, to enter at all into a discus 
 sion of that subject. Most, if not all of those who will 
 read this book, are undoubtedly satisfied in regard to it. 
 I will, however, simply state the fact?, on the ground of 
 which the present binding authority of the Lord's day ia 
 generally admitted by Christians. 
 
 As soon as God had finished the creation, it is stated 
 that he rested on the seventh day and sanctified it ; that 
 is, he set it apart for a sacred use. The time and the cir- 
 cumstances under which this was done, sufficiently indi- 
 cate that it was intended to apply to the whole race, and 
 lo extend through all time. A ceremony solemnly esta- 
 blished at the foundation of an empire would be univer- 
 sally considered as designed lo extend as far and conti- 
 nue as long as the empire itself should extend and con- 
 tinue, unless it should be distinctly repealed. And so 
 with a duty established at the foundation of a world. 
 
 Many years afterward the Creator gave a very distinct 
 code of laws to his people, the Jews. These laws were 
 of two kinds, ceremonial and moral. It was the design 
 of the former to be binding only upon the Jewish nation; 
 the latter are of permanent and universal authority. 
 
 The ceremonial laws were merely repeated lo Moses*
 
 258 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 0. 
 
 Change from Saturday to Sunday. 
 
 and he made a record of them ; you will find them in near- 
 ly all the chapters of Leviticus and Deuteronomy. All 
 the regulations relating to sacrifices are of this charac- 
 ter. The moral laws were, however, given in the most 
 solemn manner from Mount Sinai. They are the ten 
 commandments, and they were written, by the direct 
 power of God himself, upon tablets of stone, which were 
 carefully preserved. 
 
 Now, as if to remove all possible ground of doubt in 
 regard to his design, the observance of the Sabbath was 
 made the subject of one of these ten commandments ; and 
 it has been observed from that day to this, by a vast ma- 
 jority of all those who have wished to obey their Maker's 
 commands. 
 
 These facts arc abundantly sufficient to convince those 
 who are willing to keep the Sabbath, that God intended 
 that all men should keep it. They who are not convinc- 
 ed, reveal by their doubts their unwillingness to obey. 
 I would advise, therefore, any one who has doubts about 
 the divine authority of the Sabbath, not to spend his time in 
 looking for the arguments for and against in this contro- 
 versy, but to come at once to his heart. Ask yourself 
 this question : " Do I fully understand what it is to re- 
 member the Sabbath day and keep it holy, and am I cor- 
 dially and sincerely willing to do it T' In the affirmative 
 answer to this question you will find the solution to all 
 your doubts. 
 
 The Sabbath was observed, from its establishment down 
 to the coming of Christ, on the seventh day of the week, 
 that is our Saturday. Our Savior rose from the dead on 
 the day after the Sabbath, and we find, soon after his re- 
 surrection, that Christians observed that day instead of 
 the former one, as sacred lime. There is no direct com- 
 mand to do thic, and no indication that there was any con- 
 troversy about it at the time. They all at once simulta- 
 neously change. They keep one day in seven as before,
 
 Ch. O.J THE SABBATH. 259 
 
 Beginning of tint Sabbath. 
 
 but it is a different day. We infer that they had some 
 authority for so doing, though it is not at all necessary 
 that that authority should be specified. It is the custom 
 in most of the schools in New England to consider the 
 afternoon of Saturday a half-holiday. Now, suppose a 
 boy should leave this country to go on a foreign voyage, 
 and after being absent many months, should return, and 
 iind, when Saturday afternoon comes, that all the boys in 
 his native town go to school as usual, but that on Monday 
 afternoon the schools are all suspended. He sees that 
 this is the universal custom, and it continues so perma- 
 nently. Now it is not, under these circumstances, at all 
 necessary that the original vote of the school committee 
 by which the change was made should come before him. 
 The universality of the practice is the best of evidence 
 in such a case. No boy would wish for more. It is just 
 so with the evidence we have that the Sabbath was chang- 
 ed. Suddenly all Christians changed their practice; 
 they changed together, and without any evidence of a 
 controversy, and the new arrangement has been adopted 
 from that day to this. 
 
 But yet all persons are not quite satisfied about it, and 
 there are various other questions connected with the time 
 of the Sabbath, which have occasioned in the minds of 
 many Christians serious doubt and perplexities. Some 
 imagine that they ought to have more evidence of the 
 change from the seventh to the first day of the week ; 
 they think too, that the Sabbath is intended to be com- 
 memorative of God's rest after finishing the creation, and 
 that this object is lost by altering the day ; and some lose 
 themselves in endless arguments on the question whether 
 sunse*, midnight, or morning marks the beginning of the 
 sacred day. The difference of views on this subject pro- 
 duces some difference of practice. There are denomina- 
 tions of Christians who prefer to keep Saturday as holy 
 lime, and not Sunday, regarding the former as the se-
 
 260 YOCNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9. 
 
 Idle controversies. 
 
 venth day meant by the commandment. There is a differ- 
 ence of practice, too, in regard to the time of commenc- 
 ing the holy day. In some portions of our land the Sab- 
 bath is understood to begin on the evening of Saturday, 
 so that when the sun goes down on Sunday evening, they 
 return to their usual duties and cares. In other places, 
 midnight is considered as the limit which marks the be- 
 ginning and the end of sacied time. 
 
 The actual inconvenience arising from this diversity ia 
 comparatively slight. The great evil which these difle- 
 rences of opinion produce, is the interminable disputes 
 which arise from them. Perhaps some of my readers, 
 when they saw the subject of the Sabbath announced, may 
 have been curious to know which side I was going to 
 take in regard to some of these points ; for example, on 
 the question whether it is proper to commence holy time 
 on Saturday evening, or on Sabbath morning. Now, in 
 fact, I am going to take both sides. I am going to try to 
 convince you that it is entirely immaterial which is adopt- 
 ed, and that the whole subject is completely unworthy of 
 being made a matter of controversy among Christian 
 brethren. 
 
 When God gives us a command, I am aware that we 
 must obey it exactly. But a command is obeyed exactly, 
 if it is obeyed in all the particulars expressed in the 
 words of it. I think the following principle may be laid 
 down a* fundamental in regard to all laws partaking of 
 a ceremonial character, human and divine. So far as 
 the ceremonial part is essential, it -will be distinctly de- 
 scribed in the command. The fourth command partakes 
 of the ceremonial chaiacter. It is for the observance of 
 a particular day. It specifies what day, but it does not 
 specify at what hour it is to begin, and therefore we are 
 left at liberty to begin it so as to correspond with any 
 common mode of computing time. 
 
 Uut to illustrate the above mentioned principle, (for il
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH- 261 
 
 A father's command to his boys. 
 
 " * 
 
 seems to me that if it were cordially and fully admitted, 
 it would sive a vast number of disputes on many other 
 subjects,) let us suppose that a father, about to be absent 
 from his home, leaves his two boys with the command 
 that they should work, every day, a little while in the 
 garden. Now, in such a case as this, the boys ought not 
 to consider themselves as limited to any particular lime 
 for doing it. They must consider their father's design 
 in the command, and act in such a manner as to comply 
 with the spirit of it; but they may dc as they please 
 about ths time of beginning. They may work in the 
 morning, or in the evening, or at midday, tccording to 
 their own convenience. 
 
 Suppose, however, he had been a little more definite, 
 and had said, " I wish you, my boys, while I am absent, 
 to work a few hours every forenoon in the garden." 
 This would have been a little more definite. And just 
 $o far as it is definite in regard to the time, just so far it 
 would be binding in that respect. They would not now 
 be at liberty to choose whether they would work forenoon 
 or afternoon, but still they would be at liberty in regard 
 to the precise time of beginning. If one of the boys 
 should attempt to prove that they ought to begin exactly 
 at half past eight, because the father had usually begun 
 at that hour, or because the neighbors did, the other 
 might reply, that the time of beginning was not specified 
 in the command, and they might, if they chose, begin at 
 an earlier or later hour, if they only honestly fulfilled 
 the command by working faithfully as much as they sup- 
 posed their father meant by the expression, " a few 
 hours. 11 
 
 Let us, however, make the command more definite 
 still. Imagine the father to have said, "I wish you, my 
 sons, to spend from 9 to 12 o'clock, every day, in the 
 garden, working for me." This leaves them much less 
 discretionary power. The time for beginning and end-
 
 262 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9 
 
 The question about the clock and tbc dial. 
 
 ing is distinctly specified, and the command is binding, 
 in regard to these points of form and manner, just go far 
 as they are distinctly specified. Still there is room for a 
 dispute. The spirit which makes so much of a contro- 
 versy on the question whether holy time begins at sun- 
 down or at midnight, would have easily made a contro- 
 versy here. For we will suppose that there had been a 
 clock in the hall of the house, and a dial in the garden. 
 All my readers are aware, I presume, that a clock, if it is 
 a good one, keeps regular, equal time ; but that there is 
 some irregularity in the motions of the heavenly bodies, 
 which prevents the dial from always corresponding wilh 
 it exactly. Sometimes the dial, which marks apparent 
 time, that is, what appears to be the time by the sun, is 
 before, and sometimes behind the clocks ; for they mark 
 the real, or true time, as it is called. Now, how easily 
 might these boys get into a dispute on the question 
 whether their father meant them to keep true or ap- 
 parent time, that is, whether he meant them to begin 
 by the clock or by the dial ! sometimes the difference is 
 fifteen minutes. They might say that they must obey 
 their father's command exactly, and each might under- 
 take to show, from arguments drawn from the nature of 
 time, which perhaps neither of them understood, or from 
 the father's practice, or the practice of other workmen 
 in the vicinity, that one method of computation or the 
 other was the proper one. How unwise would this be ! 
 The proper ground unquestionably for boys in such a 
 case to take would be, " It is no matter which mode of 
 reckoning we adopt ; it was not father's object to have 
 us begin at any precise moment." " If you prefer the 
 clock," one might say, " I have no objection to it. I 
 think we have a right to take which we please, for father 
 did not specify any thing in regard to it; and if he had 
 had any preference, he would have stated it." 
 
 Just so in regard to the Sabbath. God says in sub-
 
 Cll. 9.] THE SABBATH. 263 
 
 Universal principle. Two doves. 
 
 stance, " Keep holy one day in seven." There is no 
 minute specification in regard to the moment of com- 
 mencing ; we are at liberty therefore to commence ac- 
 cording to any established and common method of com- 
 puting time. 
 
 May not then the principle stated above be considered 
 as universal, in regard to obedience to all laws of a cere- 
 monial nature? So far as the form and manner are 
 deemed essential, they are always distinctly expressed in 
 tile law. Look at the laws in these States for the so- 
 lemnization of marriages : all that is essential is dis- 
 tinctly expressed. So with the laws in regard to the 
 transfer of property : every form that is intended to be 
 required is detailed in the statute. So with the purely 
 ceremonial laws of the Jews. If a command required 
 the sacrifice of two doves, the Jew would plainly not 
 feel at liberty to bring one or three, nor to offer, instead 
 of the bird prescribed, vultures or sparrows. But he 
 just as plainly would be at liberty to offer doves of any 
 color ; he might choose black or white, or any other 
 hue : and if his neighbor should say to him, " Your doves 
 are not of the right kind ; nobody offers such doves as 
 those;" his proper reply would be, "I obey the com- 
 mand. The color is not specified." So with Christians 
 in keeping the Sabbath. It is not essential whether you 
 begin at sundown or at midnight; if you keep the Sab- 
 bath faithfully and regularly according to one method or 
 the other, you obey the command; the moment for be- 
 ginning is not specified. 
 
 It seems to me that any person who endeavors to ob- 
 tain a philosophical idea of the nature of our mode of 
 computing time by days, must see the impossibility of 
 marking any precise limit for the commencement and 
 close of sacred time. Nothing is so indefinite, if we take 
 an enlarged and philosophical view of the subject, as the 
 Jlsrt day. Astronomers commence it at twelve o'clock
 
 264 YOUNG CHRISTIAN'. [Ch. Q. 
 
 A day of 2.'3i hours. A day at the pole. A day I oat 
 
 at noon. Some nations begin it at midnight. On shore 
 it is reckoned as commencing at one hour, and at sea, as 
 at another. The day, too, begins at a different time in 
 every different place, so that a ship at sea, beginning a 
 day in one place and ending it in another, sometimes 
 will have 23 and sometimes 24 hours in her day, and 
 no clock or time-piece whatever can keep her time. 
 An officer of the ship is obliged to determine the begin- 
 ning of their day every noon by astronomical observa- 
 tion. A sea captain can often make a difference of an 
 hour in the length of his day, by the direction in which 
 he steers his ship ; because a day begins and ends in no 
 two places, east and west of each other, at the same time. 
 At Jerusalem they are six hours in advance of us in their 
 time, and at the Sandwich Islands six hours behind. In 
 consequence of this, it is evident that the ship, changing 
 her longitude, must every day change her reckoning. 
 These sources of difficulty in marking out the limits of a 
 day, increase as we go toward the pole. A ship within 
 fifty miles of it, might sail round on a parallel of lati- 
 tude, and keep it one continual noon or midnight to her 
 all the year ; only noon and midnight would be there al- 
 most the same. At the pole itself all distinction between 
 day and* night entirely and utterly ceases; summer and 
 winter are the only change. Habitable regions do not 
 indeed extend to the pole, but they extend far beyond 
 any practical distinction between noon and midnight, or 
 evening and morning. 
 
 The difference between the times of commencing ar.cl 
 ending days in different parts of the earth is so great, 
 that a ship sailing round the globe, loses a whole day in 
 her reckoning, or gains a whole day, according to the 
 direction in which she sails. If she sets out from Bos- 
 ton, and passes round Cape Horn, and across the Pacific 
 Ocean, to China, thence through the Indian and Atlantic 
 Oceans home, she will find, on her arrival, tiiat it is Tucs-
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 265 
 
 No sunset for months. Sabbath in Greenland. 
 
 day with her crew, when it is Wednesday on shore. Each 
 of her days will have been a little longer than a day is 
 in any fixed place, and of course she will have had fewer 
 ol them. So that if the passengers were Christians, and 
 have endeavored to keep the Sabbath, they will not and 
 cannot have corresponded with any Christian nation 
 whatever in the times of their observance of it. I sup- 
 pose my readers will believe these facts on my testimony ; 
 but they will have a far more vivid idea of the truth in 
 this case, if they will ask some sea captain, who has sail- 
 ed round or half round the globe, if it is not so, and con- 
 verse with him on some of the interesting questions and 
 difficulties which arise from this peculiarity in the nature 
 of the computation of time. 
 
 But beside this difficulty arising from the variation in 
 the time at different longitudes, there are also other 
 causes which will produce greater difficulty still in 
 the way of marking out a precise moment at which the 
 boundary between sacred and common time is to be 
 marked. As we go north or south from the equator, the 
 lengths of the days increase in the summer season, until 
 at last, as I have already intimated, in a certain latitude 
 the sun ceases altogether to set for a period equal to ma- 
 ny weeks of our reckoning. Now, what will a man who 
 supposes that our Maker meant to command all mankind 
 to keep the Sabbath exactly from sunset to sunset, or 
 from midnight to midnight what will such a man say 
 to a Christian in Greenland, where the sun does not set 
 for months together? 
 
 Is the moral law limited to latitude in its application, 
 or did the great Framer of it not know, or did he forget 
 that the motions of the sun which he himself ordained, 
 would give to some of the people to whom the command 
 was addressed, no sunset or midnight for months at a 
 time ? No ; it is absurd to press a written command to 
 any greater strictness, in regard to the form and manner 
 
 12
 
 266 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9. 
 
 Change to tie first day. i\o change in the command* 
 
 of its observance, than the letter expresses. God says to 
 us simply, " Keep holy one day in seven." \Ve may 
 reckon that day in any of '.he common methods of com- 
 puting time. If it was customary in old limes to reckon 
 the day from sundown to sundown, the servants of God 
 would probably reckon their Sabbaths so too. If it is cus- 
 tomary now to reckon from midnight to midnight, we 
 may reckon our Sabbath so. We must keep the command 
 in its spirit, but we need not press the form any farther 
 than the letter of the command itself presses it. 
 
 The same principles apply to the change from the 
 seventh day to the first. That is not an alteration of the 
 command, but only of practice under the command, in a 
 point which the letter of the law does not fix. Christians 
 labor six days and rest the seventh now. By our artificial 
 nomenclature we call it llie first ; but that does not alter 
 the real nature of the command, which is simply, that af- 
 ter ev cry sir days of labor 'kcre shall be ''egularly one of 
 rest. Tt:is requirement has never been changed or 
 touched ; it stands among the ten commands, unaltered 
 and unalterable, like all the vest. The practice, in a point 
 not fixed by the phraseology uf trie command, is indeed 
 altered ; but that no more afl'ecls obedience to the law 
 than a change from parchment to paper, in the drawing 
 up of a legal instrument, would violate a law whirh did 
 not prescribe the material. "Who would think of saying 
 in such a case, " The law has been altered ; when the 
 statute was enacted, the universal practice was to write 
 upon parchment, and now men universally use paper ; 
 we can find no authority for the change, and consequent- 
 ly the law is broken?" The law would not be broken 
 unless it unequivocally mentioned parchment in contra- 
 distinction from all other materials. The day then in 
 present use is to be continued as the holy time until it 
 is changed by proper authority, and the change made 
 known in a proper manner. Hut that authority and that
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 267 
 
 The creation. 
 
 manner need not be by any means so formal as was the 
 original command, because it does not alter that com- 
 mand at all ; it only alters practice arising under the 
 command, and that in a point which the law itself does 
 not specify. 
 
 Some one may perhaps, however, say that the Sab- 
 bath was in commemoration of the rest of Jehovah after 
 the creation, and that this object is lost by the change. 
 But a moment's reflection will remove this difficulty. 
 After seven weeks had passed, the Sabbath would come 
 on the 49th day after the creation. Now suppose it had 
 then been changed, by being moved one day forward, so 
 as to come on the 50th; who can give any good reason 
 why the 50th day may not as well be celebrated in com- 
 memoration of the creation as the 49th ? Besides, if the 
 precise time of God's resting is to be reckoned at all, it is 
 to be reckoned according to the culmination of the sun 
 at Eden, and the day there is many hours in advance of 
 us here ; so that strict precise accuracy, in regard to hours 
 and minutes, is, in every view of the case, entirely out of 
 the question ; and the fact that the command does not 
 attempt to secure it, gives evidence that it was intended 
 for general circulation among mankind. To a person 
 standing still in one place, and looking no farther than 
 to his own limited horizon, the word day seems definite 
 enough ; but when a voice from Mount Sinai speaks to 
 the whole world, commanding all men, at sea and on 
 land, in Arctic regions and under an equinoctial sun, 
 under every meridian and at every parallel, to remember 
 one day in seven and keep it holy, there must be great 
 diversity in the form and moment of obeJience. We can- 
 not, looking over the whole field, find a precise and uni- 
 versal limit. The command, if we consider it as address- 
 ed to the world, is entirely indefinite in regard to the 
 precise period of the commencement and close of sacred 
 time ; but the great principle of it is clear : Keep one
 
 268 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9 
 
 Principle important. Non-essentials. 
 
 day in seven, according to some common mode of compu- 
 tation, holy to the Lord. 
 
 I should not have spent so much time in endeavoring 
 to prove that minute accuracy in regard to the form and 
 manner of obeying this command are unattainable, were 
 it not that this discussion involves a principle which ap- 
 plies to many other cases; so that if you are induced to 
 see its reasonableness and to admit its force fully and 
 cordially in this case, you will be saved a great deal of 
 useless perplexity about the minutias of form in a great 
 many other cases. Remember then this principle, that 
 commands are to be obeyed in their spirit, except where 
 the precise form is a matter of positive and distinct spe- 
 cification. 
 
 I have one or two practical remarks to make in refe- 
 rence to this part of my subject. 
 
 1. In reppect to those points of duty on which the 
 Scriptures give no direct instructions, you will do well 
 to conform to the customs of Christians around you. If 
 you live in a community where the Sabbath i* generally 
 commenced on Saturday evening, begin youra at that 
 time: conform not only in this, but ia all other unimport- 
 ant points; kneel, or stand, or sit at prayers, as other 
 people do around you. I have known persons so con- 
 trolled by the determination to have their own way in 
 little ihings, and to consider all other ways wrong, that 
 they could not sit at table while a bk-.ssing was asked, as 
 is the common custom in many places, without being 
 very much shocked at the imaginary irreverence. Some 
 men will be pained if a minister says we in the pulpit, 
 and others will quarrel with him if he says /; and a 
 grave discussion is sometimes carried on, on such points 
 as the-e, in religious journals. One Christian cannot en- 
 dure a written, prayer; another cannot bear an extempore 
 one. A is troubled if there is an organ in the church.
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 269 
 
 Liability '<> evasion Human and divine laws. 
 
 and B thinkd that music at church is nothing without one. 
 C will almost leave the meeting-house if he should see 
 the minister come in wearing a silk gown; and D would 
 be equally shocked at seeing him in a cowl. Now, all 
 this is wrong. These points are not determined by any 
 express command in the Bible, and consequently they 
 are left to the varying taste and convenience of mankind. 
 Every person may perhaps have a slight preference, but 
 this preference he ought at all times to be willing to give 
 up, in consideration of the wishes and feeling of his 
 Christian brother. He who intends to do good in this 
 world, must go about among mankind with a spirit which 
 will lead him to conform, easily and pleasantly, with the 
 customs of men, except in those cases where the letter 
 or the spirit of the Bible forbids. 
 
 2. This discussion remin*;-? me of one great and strik- 
 ing characteristic of many, if not all, of God's commands. 
 They are peculiarly liable to evasion. This is one of 
 their excellencies, as a part of a system of moral disci- 
 pline. The object of human laws is to prevent injury 
 from crime not to improve and perfect the character. 
 The object of divine laws is to discipline moral beings, 
 to train them up to moral strength, and make them sin- 
 cere and faithful servants of their Master in heaven. 
 This gives rise to a great difference in the form of the 
 commands themselves. How much pains do men take, 
 when making laws, to cut off every possible chance of 
 escape, by specifying with minute accuracy all the details 
 of transgression! Hence the enactments of men are very 
 voluminous. The laws of a state on the subject of theft 
 will fill a volume ; but GOD disposes of the whole sub- 
 ject in four words, " THOU SHALT NOT STEAL." The 
 HUMAN lawgiver studies to cut off, by the fullness and 
 legal accuracy of his language, every opportunity for 
 quibbling or evasion; but if any man wishes to escape 
 from the laws of God by quibbling and evasion, he may
 
 270 YOTJNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch 9. 
 
 Spirit of the law. 
 
 the door is wide open : and that is what gives the law of 
 God its admirable adaptedness to be the means of moral 
 discipline to the human soul. 
 
 The reason why it produces this effect is this : The 
 more strict and minute are the details of a command, the 
 less room is there for the exercise of fidelity and volun- 
 tary obedience. God might, in regard to the Sabbath for 
 example, have been so precise and specific in his com- 
 mand, that the whole world might know exactly the 
 moment when sacred time is to begin, and exactly the 
 manner in which its hours are to be spent ; nay more, 
 he might have so interrupted the course of nature, that 
 all the business of life must have ceased, and men have 
 been compelled to rest on the Sabbath. But this would 
 have been no moral trial ; it would have afforded no 
 moral discipline. God does not accordingly adopt such 
 a course. He expresses his command in general and 
 simple language. They who wish to obey, can easily 
 ascertain what they ought to do ; and they who do not, 
 will easily find excuses. 
 
 There are some, and perhaps many, who make the 
 question whether Saturday or Sunday evening is to be 
 kept, an excuse for keeping neither. But those who wish 
 to obey God's commands will keep one or the other faith- 
 fully ; and one great design in having uncertainty in such 
 cases as this is unquestionably to try us to see who 
 does and who does not wish on vain pretexts to evade 
 God's commands. 
 
 I proceed to consider the spirit and manner in which 
 the Sabbath should be kept. 
 
 The object of the Sabbath is to interpose an effectual 
 interruption to all worldly business, and to promote as 
 highly as possible the improvement of the character. 
 Do then these two things : 1st, suspend all worldly pur- 
 suits ; and 2nd, spend the day in such a manner as will
 
 Ch. 9.] THE BABBATH. 271 
 
 James' way of rending the Bible. 
 
 best promote your spiritual improvement. The first 
 point is easy ; I shall therefore pass it by, and direct my 
 attention immediately to the last. 
 
 There are wise and there are unwise ways of keeping 
 the Sabbath holy. James is a boy who has set his heart 
 upon reading the Bible through in as short a time as pos- 
 sible, and he thinks there is no way of spending the Sab- 
 bath so properly as by his carrying forward this good 
 work with all his strength. He carries his Bible to bed 
 with him at night, and places it under his pillow, that he 
 may read as soon as it is light in the morning. You may 
 see him at breakfast-time counting up the chapters he 
 has read, and calculating how long it will take him at 
 that rate to get through a certain book. He can hardly 
 wait for family prayers to be over, he is so eager to drive 
 forward his work. He reads a great many chapters in 
 the course of the day, and lies down at night congratu- 
 lating himself on his progress ; but alas ! he has made 720 
 progress in piety. Reading chapters in the Bible, as if 
 he was reading on a wager, is not making progress in 
 piety. He has not examined his heart that day. He 
 has not made resolutions for future duty. He has not 
 learned to be a more dutiful son, a more affectionate 
 brother, or a more humble and devoted Christian. No, he 
 has read twenty chapters in the Bible ! He has been mak- 
 ing no new discoveries of his secret sins, has obtained 
 no new views of his duty, has not drawn nigh to God 
 and found peace and happiness in communion with him ; 
 no, he has had no time for that ; he has been busy all 
 day running over his twenty chapters in the Bible ! It 
 were well if James was aware that his real motive for 
 this work is the pride of thinking and perhaps of telling 
 others how much he has read, and that the cultivation of 
 such a spirit is a bad way of spending God's holy day. I 
 would not say a word against reading the Bible, but it 
 must be read in a proper manner. Many a boy has wast-
 
 272 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9. 
 
 A boy studying the Bible. The boat. 
 
 ed every hour of the Sabbath, and yet done nothing but 
 read the Bible from morning to night. 
 
 Many young persons think there is no way to break 
 the Sabbath but by work or play. Exit the spirit and 
 meaning of the fourth command undoubtedly is, that the 
 Sabbath should be devoted to the real improvement of 
 the Christian character. And if this is neglected, the 
 Sabbath is broken, no matter in what way its hours may 
 have been spent. 
 
 Yes, if this is neglected, the command is disobeyed ; 
 no formal attention to any external duty whatever can 
 be made a substitute. A boy sits at his window studying 
 his Sabbath School lesson ; his object, I will suppose, is 
 not to learn his duty and to do it, but he wishes to sur- 
 pass some companion at the recitation, or perhaps is ac- 
 tuated by a mere selfish desire to obtain a reward which 
 has been perhaps very improperly offered him ; he looks 
 out of the window across the valley which extends be- 
 fore his father's house, and sees upon a beautiful pond 
 there, a boat full of his playmates, pushing off from the 
 shore on an excursion of pleasure. 
 
 " Ah !" says he, " those wicked boys, they are break- 
 ing the Sabbath !" 
 
 Yes, they are breaking the Sabbath ; and so is he ; both 
 are perverting it. God looks at the heart, and requires 
 that all should spend the Sabbath in honest efforts to 
 discover, and confess, and abandon sin, and to become 
 pure and holy and devoted to him. Now, both the boys 
 in the boat and the one at the window are neglecting this. 
 They are doing it for the pleasure of a sail ; he is doing 
 it for the honor of superiority in his class. The day is 
 mis-spent and perverted in both cases. 
 
 Mrs. X. is the mother of several children, and she is 
 exceedingly desirous that all her family should faithfully 
 keep the Sabbath. She cannot bear the thought that it 
 should be profaned by any under her roof. Before sa-
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 273 
 
 The careful mother. 
 
 creel time comes, therefore, the whole house is put in or- 
 der, all worldly business is brought to a close, so that 
 the minds of all her family may be free. All this is ex- 
 cellent ; but how does she actually spend vhe sacred 
 hours? Why, her whole attention is devoted to enforc- 
 ing the mere external duties of religion in her household. 
 She is careful to banish every secular book ; she requires 
 one chi/d to sit still and read the Bible ; another she con- 
 fines to a prayer-book, or to some good book of religious 
 exhortation ; a third is kept studying a Sabbath School 
 lesson. Ail however must be still ; it is her great desire 
 and aim to banish everything like worldly work or play. 
 There must be no light conversation, and even the little 
 infant, creeping upon the floor, has to relinquish her 
 playthings and spend the day in inaction. 
 
 Now, when night comes, this mother thinks that she 
 has kept the Sabbath, and induced her household to keep 
 it too; and perhaps she has. But all that I have describ- 
 ed does not prove that she has kept it according to God's 
 original design. God did not institute the Sabbath in or- 
 der merely that children might be kept from play, or that 
 they might be forced to read, mechanically, good books ; 
 but that they might improve their characters, and make 
 real preparation for another world. Now, unless a mother 
 adopts such methods as shall most effectually promote the 
 improvement of her children, and unless she succeeds in 
 interesting them in it, she does not attain the object in 
 view. If your children are spending the day in a cold 
 and heartless manner, complying with your rules from 
 mero fear of your authority, they are not, properly speak- 
 ing, keeping the Sabbath. The end in view, improve- 
 ment of character, is not attained. 
 
 Hut many a mother who reads this will ask, " How can 
 I interest my children in such efforts to improve ?" You 
 will find a hundred ways, if you set j r our hearts upon it. 
 The only danger is, that you will not fully feel the neces-
 
 274 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9. 
 
 Way to interest children. 
 
 sity of it. You are satisfied, or there is great danger that 
 you will be satisfied with the mere formality of external 
 decorum on the Lord's day, forgetting that the empire in 
 which your influence ought to reign on that day, is the em- 
 pire of the heart, not the external conduct. You ought 
 therefore to aim at adopting such means of addressing 
 and influencing your children as shall seem best calculat- 
 ed to reach and control their hearts. If you really wish 
 to do this, and really try to do it, you will soon learn. 
 
 Imagine such a scene as this : A mother, with several 
 children under eight or ten years of age, collects them in 
 her chamber on a pleasant Sabbath afternoon in summer, 
 and with a cheerful countenance and pleasant tone of 
 voice, when all are seated, addresses them as follows : 
 
 " Well, children, you know what the Sabbath is for ; it 
 is to give us time and opportunity to improve. I suppose 
 you want to improve. The way to do it is to find out 
 our faults, and then correct them. Are you willing now 
 to try to find out your faults?" 
 
 "Yes, mother." 
 
 " I have thought of this plan. How should you like it? 
 I will pause a minute or two, and we will all try to think 
 of faults that we have seen among ourselves last week. 
 You may try, and I will try. After a minute or two, I will 
 ask you all around. Should you like to do this ?" 
 
 A mother who manages her children in a proper man- 
 ner with habitual kindness and affection, will receive a 
 cordial assent to such a proposal as this. After a few 
 minutes she puts the question round : 
 
 " Mary, have you thought of any thing?" 
 
 "Yes, mother; I think that John and I quarrel some- 
 limes." 
 
 "Do you think of any case which happened last 
 week !" 
 
 Mary hesitates, and John looks a little confused. 
 
 "You may do just as you please," says the mother.
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 275 
 
 Conversation with the children. 
 
 " about mentioning it. It is unpleasant to think and talk 
 about our faults, and of course it will be unpleasant for 
 you to describe particularly any thing wrong which you 
 have done. But then if you do honestly and frankly con- 
 fess it, I think you will be much less likely to do wrong 
 in the same way next week." 
 
 Mary then tells, in her own simple style, the story of 
 some childish contention, not with the shrinking and he- 
 sitation of extorted acknowledgment, but openly and 
 frankly, and in such a manner as greatly to diminish the 
 danger of falling into such a sin again. When she has 
 said all, which however rnay not perhaps have been more 
 than two or three sentences, the mother continues, ad- 
 dressing herself to the others : 
 
 " Well, children, you have heard what Mary has said. 
 Have you observed any thing in her expressions which 
 tended to show that she has wished to throw the blame 
 off upon John?" 
 
 They will probably say, Yes. A child would not be a 
 very impartial historian in such a case, and other children 
 would be very shrewd to detect the indications of bias. 
 
 " Now I do not know," says the mother, " but that 
 John was most to blame. Mary told the story, on the 
 whole, in a very proper manner. I only asked the ques- 
 tion, to remind you all that our object is now to learn 
 our own faults, and to correct them ; and you must all 
 try to see as much as possible where you yourselves have 
 been to blame." 
 
 She then turns to some passages of thi; Bible on the 
 subject of forbearance and harmony be'ween brothers and 
 sisters, and reads them not for Iie purpose of loading 
 her children with invective an ! reproach, or telling them, 
 with a countenance of assumed solemnity, how wicked 
 they have been but of kindly and mildly pointing out 
 what God's commands are, and the necessity as well as 
 the happiness of obeying them.
 
 276 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9 
 
 Ingenuity and effort necessary. The heart to be readied. 
 
 If this is done in a proper manner, and if the mother 
 remembers that she must watch the feelings of her little 
 charge, and apply her means of influence dexterously 
 and skillfully, she will succeed, certainly after oiie or two 
 trials, in producing a dislike of contention, a desire to 
 avoid it, and a resolution to sin, in this respect, no more. 
 She may in the same manner go through the circle 
 fault after fault will be brought up, its nature and its 
 consequences kindly pointed out, and those commands 
 of God, which bear upon the subject, plainly brought to 
 view. The interview may be closed by a short and sim- 
 ple prayer that God will forgive, for Christ's sake, the 
 sins they have confessed, and give them all strength to 
 resist temptation during the coming week. Such an ex- 
 ercise, if managed as every kind and faithful mother can 
 manage it, will succeed; the children will go away from 
 it with consciences relieved in some degree from the 
 burden of sin they will look back upon it as a serious, 
 but a happy interview, and will feel though a wise mo- 
 ther will not be over anxious to draw from them an ex- 
 pression of that feeling that it is a happy thing to re- 
 pent of sin, and to return to duty. I asked my readers 
 at the outset, to imagine this scene ; but, in fact, it is 
 not an imaginary scene in substance, it is reality. 
 
 This, now, is keeping the Sabbath. Such an influence 
 comes to the heart, and it accomplishes directly and im- 
 mediately the very object that God had in view in the 
 appointment of the Sabbath. I only ofler it, however, as 
 a specimen ; if repeated in exactly this form every Sab- 
 bath, the sameness might become tiresome. The idea 
 which I mean to convey is, that the heart must be reached, 
 and the process of improvement must be advancing, or 
 the object of the Sabbath is lost. Let my young readers 
 remember this. Unless you are improving and elevating 
 your characters, discovering your faults and correcting 
 ihem, learning God's will as it applies to your own con-
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 277 
 
 Variety. Remarks of a Clergyman. 
 
 duct, and confessing and forsaking your sins unless you 
 are doing such work as this, you cannot be keeping the 
 Sabbath day. The simple question then is, are you will- 
 ing to devote honestly and conscientiously one day in 
 seven to real and sincere efforts to make progress in 
 piety f 
 
 If you are willing, and every Christian certainly will 
 be, you are not to go forward blindly, reading and re- 
 flecting without system or plan, on the vain supposition 
 that if the mind is actually employed on religious sub- 
 jects, all is going on well. You must take into careful 
 consideration the nature of the human mind, and the 
 means which, according to the laws which the Creator 
 has given it, are most calculated to have an influence 
 over it. This principle will require attention to several 
 points. 
 
 1. Variety in the exercises of the Sabbath. When I 
 was thinking of this topic, and considering how I should 
 present it here, I one day accidentally fell into conversa- 
 tion with a clergyman who had had far more experience 
 as a teacher than I have enjoyed. I requested him to re- 
 duce to writing the views he expressed, that I might in- 
 sert them here. He soon after sent me the following : 
 
 " Many Christians who feel deeply the importance of 
 spending the Sabbath in a proper manner, find, notwith- 
 standing all their endeavors, that the sacred hours do at 
 times pass heavily along. Now the Sabbath should be 
 not only the Christian's most prontarjle, but most happy 
 day. I once knew a young Christian who resolved that 
 he would pass the whole day in prayer ; but very soon 
 he became exhausted and weary. He however persever- 
 ed through the whole day, with the exception of the few 
 necessary interruptions ; and when night came, he felt a 
 deadness and exhaustion of feeling which he unhappily 
 mistook for spiritual desertion. No human mind can, in 
 ordinary cases, sustain such long and intense application
 
 278 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9. 
 
 Necessity of variety. Heligious book*. 
 
 to one subject ; there must be variety, to give cheerful- 
 ness and to invigorate. Often a conscientious young 
 Christian takes his Bible, resolvicg to spend the Sabbath 
 in reading the Bible and in prayer. He perhaps passes 
 an hour or two in this way very pleasantly, and then he 
 feels tired ; he tries to rouse his feelings, and bitterly 
 condemns himself for unavoidable languor. I have known 
 persons to be greatly disquieted and distrustful of their 
 Christian character, because they could not pass the 
 whole of the Sabbath pleasantly in uninterrupted reading 
 the Bible and prayer. 
 
 " There is a wide difference between spiritual desertion 
 and mental exhaustion. To avoid this mentai exhaus- 
 tion, and to keep the spirits animated and cheerful, much 
 variety of pursuit is necessary. Who would be willing to 
 go to church, and have the whole lime occupied with a 
 sermon, or a prayer, or a hymn? How few are there who 
 can, with pleasure and profit, listen to a sermon of one 
 hour's length ! There must be a diversity of exercises to 
 make public worship agreeable, and there must be di- 
 versity to give pleasure to private devotion. 
 
 " Let the sacred hours of the Sabbath, then, be ap- 
 propriated to a variety of religious employments. Sup- 
 pose the case of a young married man. He wishes to 
 pass the Sabbath in a way acceptable to God, and to en- 
 joy his religious duties. He rises in good season in the 
 morning, and commences the day with a short, but fer- 
 vent prayer, for the divine blessing ; he then passes the 
 time till breakfast, in reading the Bible. Perhnps, for the 
 sake of variety, he spends a part of the time in reading 
 the devotional portions, and a part in perusing its inte- 
 resting history. At the breakfast-table, with cheerful 
 countenance and heart, he leads the conversation to reli- 
 gious subjects; after breakfast he passes an hour in 
 reading some valuable religious book. Books are so nu- 
 merous now, that the best practical works upon Christia-
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 279 
 
 Way of spending (lie Sabbath. Various duties. 
 
 nity are easily obtained by all. Bunyan's Pilgrim's Pro- 
 gress, Baxter's Saints' Rest, Law's Serious Call, Dod- 
 dridge's Rise and Progress, Imitation of Christ, &c. are 
 works of standard merit, and works with which all 
 Christians may, and should be acquainted. It is very de- 
 sirable that the Christian should have on hand some such 
 book, which he will read in course, a moderate portion 
 every day, until he has finished it. 
 
 " At length the time arrives for the assembling of his 
 family for morning prayers. He carries his principle, for 
 securing an interesting variety, here. Sometimes he will 
 read religious intelligence from a periodical ; sometimes 
 he reads an interesting narrative from a tract ; always 
 taking care to select something which will excite atten- 
 tion. After finishing this, he opens the Bible and selects 
 some appropriate passage, and reads it, with occasional 
 remarks, intended to deepen the impression upon his 
 own mind, and upon the minds of those in the circle 
 around him. He then reads a hymn, and after singing a 
 few verses, if the family are able to sing, bows at the fa- 
 mily altar in prayer. The variety which he has thus in- 
 troduced into the exercise has continued to interest the 
 feelings, and no occasion has been offered for lassitude 
 or tedium. 
 
 " He now walks the room for exercise, and reviews the 
 past week ; he thinks of the opportunities to do good 
 which he has neglected ; examines his feelings and his 
 conduct, and in ejaculatory prayer, seeks forgiveness. 
 When he enters the place of public worship his mind is 
 ready for active service there he unites with his pas- 
 tor in prayer. When a hymn is read, he attends to the 
 sentiment, and makes melody in heart to God when sing- 
 ing his praises. He listens attentively to the sermon, 
 feeling that the responsibility of being interested in it 
 conies upon him, and he prays that God will bless it to 
 his own soul, and to the conversion of others.
 
 880 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 9 
 
 Way of closing the Sabbath. 
 
 " Perhaps, in the interval between forenoon and after- 
 noon service, he has a class in the Sabbath School, or is 
 himself a member of the Bible class : these duties he 
 performs with a sincere desire to do good. After the close 
 of the afternoon services he retires for secret prayer. 
 He appropriates a proper period to this duty, and pre- 
 sents his own private and personal wants, and the spi 
 ritual interests of others, in minute detail to God ; he 
 looks forward, too, to the duties of the week; he brings 
 before his mind the temptations to which he will be ex- 
 posed, the opportunities for exerting a Christian influ- 
 ence, which he possesses, and forms his plans of Chris- 
 tian usefulness for the week ; he thinks of some good 
 object which he will try to advance, of some individual 
 whom he will try to lead to the Savior. He forms his 
 resolutions, and perhaps writes them down, that he may 
 refer to them again the next Sabbath, in the review of 
 the week. At the appointed hour he assembles his fa- 
 mily for evening prayers. A brief reference to the reli- 
 gious exercises of the day, or some interesting narrative, 
 followed by the Bible, singing and prayer, again give va- 
 riety and animation to the exercise ; and when all the 
 duties of the day are over, as he is retiring to rest, he 
 passes the few moments which remain before slumber 
 has wrapt his senses in forgetfulness, in reviewing the 
 duties of the day. The Sabbath has been profitably and 
 happily spent. It has been to him a rich season of im- 
 provement and of enjoyment. He has made a Sabbath 
 day's journey toward heaven ; he has obtained strength 
 to meet the allurements and temptations of life. During 
 the week he looks back upon the Sabbath with pleasure, 
 and when the light of another holy morning dawns upon 
 him, he can sincerely say. 
 
 "Welcome, delightful morn, 
 
 " Thou day of sacred rest ; 
 " I hail thy kind return 
 
 " Lord, make these moments blest."
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 281 
 
 System in religious exercises. Waste of time prevented. 
 
 "In this way the Sabbath is a delight. It is a day of 
 refreshment, and the spirit of man longs eagerly for its 
 approach. I have introduced the above example simply 
 as an illustration of what I mean by saying that there 
 should be variety in the exercises of the Sabbath. Proba- 
 bly no one who reads these pages will find it expedient 
 to adopt precisely the same course. But all may proceed 
 upon the same principle, and adapt their plans to their 
 situation. 
 
 2. " System in the exercises of the Sabbath. Much 
 time is often lost upon the Sabbath for want of a regular 
 plan. If a person reads half an hour in the Bible, and 
 then stops to think what he shall take up next, his mind 
 is perplexed. He says, ' Shall I now retire for secret 
 prayer, or shall I read a tract, or shall I take up Baxter's 
 Saints' Rest? Several moments are lost in deciding. 
 Perhaps he takes Baxter ; but while reading, he stops to 
 consider whether it would not have been better to have 
 taken something else ; and then his mind is diverted 
 from his book by thinking what he shall next read ; thus 
 much time is lost, and the mind is perplexed. It is, 
 therefore, wisdom to have a plan previously formed for 
 the whole day. With a little reflection a plan may easi- 
 ly be formed, appropriating systematically the time of 
 the Sabbath to the several duties which ought to be per- 
 formed. Many persons constantly do this. In all cases 
 there will be unavoidable interruptions. But we may 
 derive much assistance from rules, without making our- 
 selves slaves to them. If you have domestic duties which 
 must be performed upon the Sabbath, have them perform- 
 ed if possible, by a given hour, that they may not intrude 
 upon all the hours of the sacred day. If you are con- 
 stantly exposed to interruptions, if there is no time of the 
 day which you can call your own, then let your plans be 
 formed in accordance with this peculiarity in your situa- 
 tion Three things all may guard against indolence, a
 
 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9. 
 
 Rest on the Sabbath. Distinct duties to be performed. 
 
 worldly spirit, and too long application of the mind to 
 one subject. There are no lawful situations in life, in 
 which we may not pass the day with improvement to 
 ourselves and acceptably to God." 
 
 3. fast on the Sabbath. We ought to remember that 
 God has ordained the Sabbath as a day of rest from la- 
 bor, as well as a day of spiritual improvement, and it 
 ought to be made such. 
 
 It is undoubtedly wrong to apply our minds so uninter- 
 ruptedly to religious duties during the day, as to feel 
 worn out and exhausted at night. There are indeed 
 some exceptions ; ministers and Sabbath School teachers 
 must, in fact, often do a very hard day's work on the 
 Sabbath ; they are laboring for the religious good of 
 others, and must be often fatigued by their efforts. But 
 Christians, generally, must not so fill up the hours with 
 mental labor as to prevent the rest which God requires 
 on his holy day. 
 
 These three points, variety, system, and rest, ought to 
 be attended to in order to secure the greatest possible 
 moral progress in that day. A teacher of a school would 
 be very unwise, were he to require his pupils to spend the 
 whole of a day in actual study much less would he keep 
 them during all that lime upon one single book or subject. 
 Nor would he, on the other hand, relinquish all system, 
 and do every hour whatever should happen to suggest it- 
 self to his thoughts. He knows that his pupils will ac- 
 tually advance more rapidly if he systematizes, and at the 
 same time varies their exercises, and allows intervals ot 
 lest and recreation. The Christian too, who watches the 
 movements of his own mind and every Christian ought 
 to do this will soon learn that lie must adopt substantial- 
 ly the same plan, if he wishes to make rapid progress in 
 piety. 
 
 I will now proceed to mention, in order to be specific,
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 283 
 
 Way to make self-examination iutere.iling and useful. 
 
 several duties which I think ought to be performed on 
 the Sabbath. I advise every one of my readers, immedi- 
 ately after perusing my account of these duties, to set 
 down and form a plan for himself, assigning to each one 
 of them an appropriate place, devoting an hour or half 
 an hour to each, according to his age and his circum- 
 stances in other respects. This plan ought not, however, 
 to occupy all the hours of the day ; some should be left 
 unappropriated, to allow opportunity for rest, and to per- 
 form such duties as may from time to time arise to view. 
 Make your plan, and resolve to try it for one Sabbath 
 only. You can then consider whether to continue it, or 
 to modify it, or to abandon it altogether. 
 
 1. Self-examination. I do not mean by this, the mere 
 asking yourself some general questions in regard to your 
 heart, and the habitual feelings of it. I mean, going over 
 minutely the various occurrences of the week, to see 
 what you have done, and what motives have actuated 
 you. You can attend to this most successfully, by con- 
 sidering the subject under several distinct heads. 
 
 (1.) Your ultimate object of pursuit. Think what has 
 chiefly interested and occupied you during the week, 
 and what is the final, ultimate object you have in view in 
 what you have been doing. Review all the labors that 
 have been connected with that pursuit, whatever it may 
 be, and find in what respects you have been pursuing 
 your object with a wrong spirit. 
 
 (2.) Duties to parents. Consider what has been your 
 conduct toward your parents, if you are still connected 
 with them. Have you had any difficulty of any kind 
 with them ? Have they reproved you once during the 
 week, or been dissatisfied with you in any respect? If 
 so, what was it for? Think over the whole occurrence, 
 and see wherein you were to blame in it ; look at your 
 habitual conduct toward your parents, or to those under 
 whose care you are placed. Have you at any time di j-
 
 284 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. ft. 
 
 Minuteness of self-examination. 
 
 obeyed them, or neglected to obey them with alacrity ? 
 Have you had any dispute with them, or been sullen or 
 ill-humored on account of any of their measures ? You 
 must look also to the other side of the question, and 
 consider what good you have done to your parents. Self- 
 examination implies the investigation of what is right in 
 the character, as well as what is wrong. What good, 
 then, have you done to your parents? In what cases did 
 you comply with their wishes when you were tempted 
 not to comply ? When did you give them pleasure by 
 your attention, or by your faithful and ready obedience 
 to their commands ? You can spend half an hour most 
 profitably, not in merely answering these individual ques- 
 tions, but in a careful review of all your conduct toward 
 your parents, going into minute detail. 
 
 (3.) Companions. What has been your deportment 
 toward your companions ? How many have you made 
 happier during the past week ? Think of what good 
 you have done, and of the way in which you did it. How 
 many too have you made unhappy ? If you have had 
 any contention, call to mind all the circumstances of it 
 the angry, or reproachful, or ill-humored words which 
 you have used, and the spirit of heart which you cherish- 
 ed. It will require a long time to review thoroughly all 
 those events of a week which illustrate the spirit with 
 which you have acted toward your companions. 
 
 (4.) Fidelity in business. You have some employ- 
 ment in which you ought to have been diligent and faith- 
 ful during the week. Look over minutely your conduct 
 in this respect; begin with Monday morning and come 
 down to Saturday night, and see, by a careful examina- 
 tion of the labors of the week, whether you have been 
 " diligent in business, fervent in spirit, serving the 
 Lord." 
 
 (5.) Secret sins. This is a most important head of 
 self-examination. You have committed secret sins; you
 
 Ch, 9-] THE SABBATH. 285 
 
 Prayer. Studying the Bible and conversation on the Sabbath. 
 
 have cherished feelings which others have not known, 
 or you have in secret done what you would blush to have 
 exposed to view. Explore all this ground thoroughly, 
 and confess and forsake such sins. 
 
 I might mention a number of similar points, but it is 
 unnecessary, as my object is only to show that self-exa- 
 mination, to be effectual, must be minute, and must be 
 brought to bear immediately and directly upon tJie ac- 
 tual conduct. You will succeed much better if you 
 divide the ground in some such manner as above de- 
 scribed. 
 
 2. Prayer. This is the second duty which I shall 
 mention, for which a place ought to be particularly as- 
 signed on the Sabbath. I have in several places in this 
 book alluded to the subject of prayer, and I shall merely 
 here say in what respects prayer on the Sabbath should 
 be peculiar. More time should be allotted to the exer- 
 cise, and it should also take a wider range. Consider 
 your whole character, and look back upon the past, and 
 forward to the future, so as to take a comprehensive view 
 of your condition and prospects, and let your supplica- 
 tions be such as this extended survey will suggest. 
 
 There is one thing however which I ought to say here, 
 though I shall speak more distinctly of it in a subsequent 
 chapter. It is this : Take a firm and an immovable stand 
 in the duty of secret prayer ; let nothing tempt you to 
 neglect, or postpone, or curtail it, or pass over the season 
 of your communion with God in a hurried and formal 
 manner. Neglecting the closet is the beginning of back- 
 sliding, and the end of happiness and peace. 
 
 3. Studying the Bible. In the chapter devoted ex- 
 pressly to this subject, I have mentioned a variety of 
 methods by which the study of the Bible may be made 
 more interesting and profitable than it now ordinarily is. 
 Every young Christian ought to allot a specific and regu-
 
 286 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9. 
 
 Conversation on the Sabbath. 
 
 Jar time, every Sabbath day, to the systematic study of the 
 Bible by some such methods as those. 
 
 4. Conversation. The older and more intelligent 
 members of a family may do much toward making the 
 day pass pleasantly and profitably, by making some effort 
 to prepare subjects for conversation. Suppose a family 
 take such a course as this : A daughter studying the 
 Bible alone in her chamber, finds some difficult and yet 
 interesting question arisit.g from the passage she is inves- 
 tigating. " I will ask about it at dinner," she says ; " my 
 brothers and sisters will be interested in it and in father's 
 answer; for perhaps he will be able to answer it." The 
 mother is reading some Christian biography, and coming 
 to an interesting passage, she says to herself, " I will tell 
 this story at dinner to-day, it will interest the children." 
 The father inquires mentally, as the dinner hour ap- 
 proaches, " What shall we talk about to-day?" Perhaps 
 he recollects some occurrence which has taken place 
 during the week, which illustrates some religious truth, 
 or is an example of religious duty. Thus each one comes 
 to the table prepared to contribute something to the com- 
 mon stock of conversation. The dinner-hour, in such a 
 case, will not pass heavily ; all will be interested and pro- 
 fited by the remarks which will be made on the various 
 topics which will come up. If any family into which 
 this book may come will really try this experiment, they 
 will find, in a very short time, that subjects for conversa- 
 tion will come up in far greater numbers, and exciting 
 much greater interest than they would at first have sup- 
 posed. There may be an agreement made at breakfast, 
 that each one of tlie family will endeavor to bring for- 
 ward sorno fact or some question at dinner, and then 
 the father may call upon all in turn. 
 
 A great many persons imagine that conversation is 
 something that must be left entirely to itself that there 
 can be no preparation for it, and no arrangements made
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 287 
 
 Frivolous conversation. Public worship. 
 
 to secure interest arid profit from it. But the truth is, if 
 there is any thing which demands forethought and ar- 
 rangement, it is this very business of conversation espe> 
 cially religious conversation on the Sabbath. Without 
 some such efforts as I have above described, the Christian 
 family, when assembled at dinner or tea, must spend the 
 time in silence or frivolous remarks, criticisms upon the 
 preacher, or discussions on subjects which keep those 
 who are conscientious constantly uneasy, because they 
 doubt whether the subjects upon which they are speak- 
 ing are suitable to the sacredness of the Lord's day. 
 
 Many persons have no idea of religious conversation, 
 excepting a forced and forma 1 , exhortation from the mas- 
 ter of the family, or from a Christian minister. They 
 cannot understand how a whole family can be interested, 
 from the aged grand parent down to the youngest child, 
 in a conversation exactly calculated to promote the ob- 
 fects of the Sabbath. But let such persons try the ex- 
 periment I have mentioned above, and they will discover 
 their mistake. The ways by which a family may be 
 interested by means of judicious and ingenious efforts on 
 the part of a parent or an older brother or sister, are 
 very numerous. Sometimes a question may be proposed 
 in regard to duty. A case may be imagined, or some 
 real case which has actually occurred may be stated, and 
 the question may be asked, what ought to be done in such 
 a case? Or some question may be started for discussion, 
 I do not mean for formal argument as in a parliamentary 
 assembly, but for free interchange of opinion. 
 
 5. Public Worship. It is perfectly astonishing what a 
 tendency there is among mankind, and even among Chris- 
 tians, to throw oft' the whole responsibility of public wor- 
 ship upon the minister. The disposition is almost univer- 
 sal. Come with me into this church and observe the con- 
 gregation assembled. The minister reads a hymn, and 
 while he is reading it, how great a proportion of the hearers
 
 288 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9. 
 
 Responsibilities of the hearers. The farmer and his boys 
 
 are entirely regardless of its contents ! He rises to offer a 
 prayer, and if we could see the hearts of those present 
 how many we should find who are really making no 
 effort at all to accompany him to the throne of grace! 
 At last he names his text, and the eyes of almost all the 
 assembly are turned toward him. As he looks over the 
 congregation he sees an expression of interest upon the 
 countenances of his hearers, and perhaps expects they 
 are going to listen to what he has to say. He begins 
 the delivery of his message, endeavoring to explain to 
 them the principles of duty, or to present the considera- 
 tions which should urge them to do it. Now let me ask, 
 while this exercise is going forward, upon whom does the 
 responsibility of it chiefly come ? Is it the duty of a minis- 
 ter to interest the people, or that of the people to be inte- 
 terested by their own efforts in the message the minister 
 brings? Are you, in receivuig a message from above, to 
 reject it, or listen to it carelessly and with an inattentive 
 and listless air, because it is not presented in such a man- 
 ner as to compel you, by the novelty of its illustrations 
 or the beauty of its diction, to give it your regard ? 
 
 A farmer sends his boys into a field to spend the day 
 in work. He tells them what to do for an hour, and 
 says that after that time he shall send a man to explain 
 to them how they are to proceed through the day. The 
 boys go on with their work, until at length the expected 
 messenger appears. He begins to tell them how the land 
 is to be ploughed, or in what way the father wishes the 
 seed to be put into the grotin \. The boys listen to him a 
 minute or two, until one, perceiving some oddity in the 
 man's manner, bursts into a laugh ; another sits down on 
 a green bank under a tree, and gradually falls into a state 
 of drowsy insensibility; a third looks away with vacant 
 countenance upon the hills and mountains around, utter- 
 ly regardless of the message. The boys consequently do 
 not learn what their father wishes them to do, and do
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 
 
 Duty of the bearers to be interested. 
 
 not do it; and when night comes, and they are called to 
 account for the labors of the day, they try to justify them- 
 selves with this preposterous excuse : " Why," they say 
 to their father, " the man you sent us was not an inte 
 resting man, and so we did not pay any attention to his 
 message. He had no talent at making his mode of ex- 
 planation novel and striking, and so we did not listen to 
 it." "I could not possibly fix my attention," says one, 
 " He was a very sleepy talker," says another ; " I could 
 not keep awake." " He was dressed so," says a third, 
 " and he had such a tone that I could not help laughing 
 at him." 
 
 Such are the excuses which many persons give for not 
 giving heed to religious instruction on the Sabbath. 
 They try to throw off all responsibility upon the minis- 
 ter; and if he does not awaken, by the power of his ge- 
 nius, an interest in their minds, they consider themselves 
 entirely excused from feeling any. They say in substance 
 to themselves, " We know we have disobeyed God, and 
 he is sending us messengers to communicate to us the 
 offers of forgiveness for the past and direction for the fu- 
 ture ; but unless he sends us agreeable, and ingenious, 
 and eloquent men, we will pay no attention to any of 
 them." 
 
 Who can stand in the judgment with such an excuse? 
 And yet it is the actual feeling of thousands. But, my 
 reader, I do urge you to abandon altogether this plan of 
 throwing off upon the minister, whom Providence haa 
 sent to you, the responsibility of the interest you take in 
 public instruction. It is his duty to deliver his message 
 plainly and intelligibly, but it is your duty, most unques- 
 tionably, to be interested in it. Go to meeting, feeling 
 that you have something to do there. iTou must be inte- 
 rested in what you hear, if it is a plain exhibition of re- 
 ligious truth ; and you must apply it to your own con- 
 science and heart by real active effort, or you must incur 
 
 13
 
 290 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 9 
 
 Sinister motives at Church. 
 
 the guilt of rejecting the message from heaven. The 
 less interesting the preacher then is, the more active and 
 the more arduous the duty of his hearers. They should 
 look him steadily in the face, and listen in silence and in 
 deep attention to what he has to say ; and feel at all times, 
 that while it is the minister's duty to be faithful in deli- 
 vering his message, it is their most imperious duty to 
 take heed how they hear. 
 
 There are a great many persons who are very constant 
 in their attendance upon public worship, and who think 
 their motive is respect for religion, and a desire to obey 
 God's commands; when in fact they are controlled by 
 other motives altogether. I do not mean by this that they 
 attend public worship, and sustain by their influence the 
 ordinances of religion, through a distinct and deliberate 
 design of merely promoting, in some way, their own 
 worldly interest by it. Actual, intentional hypocrisy, ia a 
 means which few men will knowingly adopt to accom- 
 plish their purposes. It is of so mean and base a quality, 
 that even the honorable principles of this world are 
 usually sufficient to preserve the breasts of men from its 
 pollution. It is degrading and humiliating to admit it, 
 knowingly and voluntarily, as a principle of action. 
 The great danger is from a hypocrisy, or something near- 
 ly allied to it, which comes in secresy or disguise. It is 
 not always an easy thing for us to decide by what mo- 
 tives we are governed in the actions which we perform. 
 We nre often swayed by inducements, of which, without 
 rigid and impartial scrutiny, we are entirely unconscious ; 
 for there may be one motive of fair and honorable ap- 
 pearance, which stands out to the view of the individual 
 ns the director of his actions ; and there may be another 
 of far different character, which in reality guides him, 
 but which is coiled up like a main-spring, in a secret 
 place, and thus eludes his observation. The Bible, whe 
 it teaches us that the heart is deceitful above all things,
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 20l 
 
 Way to detect (hem. Sincere and lieHrtless worship. 
 
 tells us nothing which an unbiassed observation of human 
 nature will not every where confirm. 
 
 Now, if some sinister motive is for a time actuating a 
 Christian in his religious course, he can very easily de- 
 tect it by the manner in which the public duties of the 
 Sabbath are performed. A man who is secretly influenc- 
 ed by some worldly consideration in what he does, may 
 he attentive and faithful in all the open and public ser- 
 vices of religion. If we are thus influenced, however, as 
 it is external appearance c-nly which can bring us world- 
 ly advantage, we shall go no farther than to the outward 
 appearance. We may rise with God's people in his house 
 of prayer, and assume the posture of reverential suppli- 
 cation ; but if appearances are all which we resrard, we 
 shall be satisfied with merely assuming the posture. We 
 may join with our lips in the song of praise ; and if to be 
 seen of men is our object, the service of the lip is all that 
 is necessary for its accomplishment, and that will be all 
 to which we shall aim. And we may listen with appa- 
 rent attention to the message which the preacher delivers, 
 but the appearance of attention will be all, if our object 
 is such that this appearance will attain it. 
 
 On the other hand, if an honest intention of worship- 
 ping GotI be the motive which calls a man to the weekly 
 assembly, it will carry him farther lha.. to a compliance 
 with the external form. When, in the season of prayer, 
 recognizing the presence of the great God of heaven and 
 earth, he rises to assume the attitude of respectful reve- 
 rence, his heart will feel the reverence which his action 
 implies. His thoughts, instead of wandering to the ends 
 of the earth, will ascend in devout aspirations to heaven. 
 Contrition for the offences which he has committed against 
 that Being who has been kind to him as a father reso- 
 lutions to conform his conduct and character more com- 
 pletely to the divine will longings for that assistance 
 from above, without which, past experience and the word
 
 292 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch, 9. 
 
 Our religious duties cannot be thrown off upon our minister. 
 
 of God inform him that his efforts will be strength spent 
 for naught and ardent supplications for blessings upon 
 his fellow-men, dictated by a benevolence which compri- 
 ses in its view the whole human family, and which looks 
 forward in its good will to men to the enjoyments of eter- 
 nity, as well a" to the comforts and conveniences of time 
 these will be the emotions which will have control in 
 the heart of the man of sincerity, while the affections of 
 the man of form will be grovelling upon the farm, the 
 money, or the merchandise. 
 
 The song of praise too, from the one who really wor- 
 ships God, will not be merely music on the tongue, it 
 will be an expression of warm feeling from the heart. 
 The voice of adoration and praise will arise from a soul 
 which adores and praises^ and which, as it lifts up that 
 voice, will be itself elevated by the emotions of gratitude 
 and love ; while the offerer of an external worship will 
 be lost in vacancy during the singing of God's praises, or 
 only interested in the mere mnsic of the song. 
 
 And in the listening to the sermon, the conscientious 
 worshipper will give* earnest heed to the things which re- 
 late to his everlasting peace. Knowing that he has, in 
 multiplied instances, transgressed a law which God has 
 established and enforced by dreadful sanctions, he is con- 
 vinced that it becomes him to attend in earnest to the 
 means of averting the consequences of his guilt. With 
 this view, his mind is fixed in attention to the way of re- 
 conciliation with God, and to the duties which devolve 
 upon him who cherishes hopes of immortality ; and all 
 this time he who is contented with ovtward conformity, 
 is lost in a mental, and perhaps in a bodily slumber. 
 
 Let me urge my readers then to be careful how they 
 perform the duties of puHic worship. The responsibili- 
 ty of being interested in them, and profited by them, 
 comes upon you alone. You cannot throw it off upon 
 your minister. Examine yourself with reference to the
 
 Ch. 9.] THE SABBATH. 293 
 
 Appearance of evil. The summer evening. 
 
 spirit and feelings with which these duties are performed. 
 They afford you a very line opportunity for close and 
 faithful self-examination ; for the sinister motives which, 
 in a greater or less degiee, undoubtedly exist in your 
 hearts, will show themselves here. 
 
 There is one thing more that I ought to present to the 
 consideration of my readers before closing the chapter 
 on this subject. It is this : 
 
 In keeping the Sabbath, avoid all appearance of evil. 
 I h?ve endeavored in this discussion to accomplish two 
 objects. First, to convince my readers that the mere 
 form and manner in which the Sabbath is kept, except 
 so far as it is a matter of express command, is not ma- 
 terial ; and secondly, to convey to the mind a distinct 
 idea of what I understand to be the spirit of the com- 
 mand, and to persuade all my readers to aim at produc- 
 ing, by the best means within their reach, upon their own 
 hearts and lives the effect which God had intended in the 
 establishment of the institution. From these views of 
 the subject, were I to stop here, it might seem that if we 
 take such a course as shall really secure our own reli- 
 gious improvement on the Sabbath, we may do it in any 
 way; for example, that we may walk, or ride, or visit, 
 provided that we so regulate and control our thoughts 
 and conversation as to make the spiritual improvement 
 which it is the object of the day to secure. But no. We 
 must avoid the appearance of evil. We must not seem. 
 to be breaking or disregarding God's commands. 
 
 For example. A Christian living on the sea-shore, 
 after having spent the day in the various duties which 
 have presented themselves to his attention, stands at the 
 door of his house and looks out upon the glassy surface 
 of the bay which stretches before him. It is a summer 
 evening. The sun is just setting, throwing his bright 
 beams over the water, and gilding every object upon
 
 294 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 9. 
 
 A \valk. Walking, riding, sailing. 
 
 which it shines. The Christian looks over this scene of 
 beauty, and its expression of calmness and peace is trans- 
 ferred to his own soul. He feels the presence of God 
 in it all, and rejoices in the power and goodness of the 
 great Being who reigns in every scene of beauty or of 
 grandeur which nature exhibits. 
 
 With his heart filled with such thoughts, he walks 
 down upon the beach to indulge in the contemplation 
 of God's goodness to mankind and to him. Now he is, 
 it must be admitted, while d..ing this, accomplishing the 
 object of the Sabbath by meditation on the character of 
 God. He may say perhaps that his views of divine good- 
 ness and power are more distinct and vivid while he ia 
 walking out among the beauties of nature, if his heart is 
 in a right slate, than they would be if he was shut up in 
 his study. Why then may he not walk out at evening ? 
 
 And why may he not step into the little boat which 
 floats in the cove, and unloosen its chain and push him- 
 self off from the shore, that while rocked by the gentle, 
 dying swell of the sea, he may lose himself more com- 
 pletely in the absorbing feeling of God's presence, and 
 muse more uninterruptedly upon his Creator's power? 
 Shall he go? 
 
 No ; stop, Christian, stop. Before you spend your 
 half-hour in a boat upon the water, or even in your even- 
 ing walk, consider what will be the influence of the ex- 
 ample you are going to set to others. Shall you appear, 
 while you are doing this, to be remembering the Sab- 
 bath day to keep it holy ? Is it best, on the whole, that 
 riding, walking, and sailing should be among the occu- 
 pations of holy time? Will God be honored and his 
 Sabbath kept if all spend the Sabbath evening as you are 
 about to spend it? 
 
 These questions must be answered on a principle 
 
 which will apply to multitudes of other cases. Take a 
 
 our.se which, were it universally imitated, would pro-
 
 Ch. 10.] TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 295 
 
 Trial and discipline. The steam-boat on trial. 
 
 mote the greatest good ; otherwise you may be doing 
 that which, though safe for yourself, will be of incalcu- 
 lable injury, through the influence of your example, upon 
 others. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 
 
 " Strangers and pilgrims on the earth." 
 
 I. NATURE OF TRIAL. 
 
 The Bible every where conveys the idea that this life 
 is not our home, but a state of probation, that is, of trial 
 and discipline, which is intended to prepare us for ano- 
 ther. In order that all, even the youngest of my rea- 
 ders, may understand what is meant by this, I shall illus- 
 trate it by some familiar examples drawn from the ac- 
 tual business of life. 
 
 When a large steam-boat is built with the intention of 
 having her employed upon the waters of a great river, 
 she must be proved before put to service. Before trial, 
 it is somewhat doubtful whether she v/ill succeed. In 
 the first place, it is not absolutely certain whether her 
 machinery will work at all. There may be some flaw in 
 the iron, or an imperfection in some part of the work- 
 manship, which will prevent the motion of her wheels. 
 Or if this is not the case, the power of the machinery 
 may not be sufficient to propel her through the water 
 with such force as to overcome the current ; or she may, 
 when brought to encounter the rapids at some narrow 
 passage in the stream, not be able to force her way 
 against their resistance. 
 
 The engineer therefore resolves to try her in all these
 
 296 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 1 
 
 Efforts of the engineer. 
 
 respects, that her security and her power may be pro- 
 perly proved before she is intrusted with her valuable 
 cargo of human lives. He cautiously builds a fire under 
 her boiler ; he watches with eager interest the rising of 
 the steam-gage, and scrutinizes every part of the ma- 
 chinery as it gradually comes under the control of the 
 tremendous power which he is cautiously applying. With 
 what interest does he observe the first stroke of the pon- 
 derous piston ! and when at length the fastenings of the 
 boat are let go, and the motion is communicated to the 
 wheels, and the mighty mass slowly moves away from 
 the wharf, how deep and eager an interest does ne feel 
 in all her movements and in every indication he can dis- 
 cover of her future success ! 
 
 The engine, however, works imperfectly, as every one 
 must on its first trial ; and the object in this experiment 
 is not to gratify idle curiosity by seeing that she will 
 move, but to discover and remedy every little imperfec- 
 tion, and to remove every obstacle which prevents more 
 entire success. For this purpose you will see our engi- 
 neer examining, most minutely and most attentively, 
 every part of her complicated machinery. The crowd 
 on the wharf may be simply gazing on her majestic pro- 
 gress as she moves off from the shore, but the engineer 
 is within looking with faithful examination into all the 
 minutiae of the motion. He scrutinizes the action of 
 every lever and the friction of every joint ; here he oils 
 a bearing, there he tightens a nut; one part of the ma- 
 chinery has too much pla>' and he confines it another 
 too much friction, and he loosens it ; now he stops the 
 engine, now reverses her motion, and again sends the 
 boat forward in her course. He discovers, perhaps, 
 some great improvement of which she is susceptible, 
 and when he returns to the wharf and has extinguished 
 her fire, he orders from the machine-shop the necessary 
 alteration.
 
 Ch. 10.] TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE* 2t)7 
 
 Improvements. Final results-. 
 
 The next day he puts his boat to the trial again, and 
 she glides ever the water more smoothly and swiftly than 
 before. The jar which he had noticed is gone, and the 
 friction reduced; the beams play more smoothly, and 
 the alteration which he has made produces a more equa- 
 ble motion in the shaft, or gives greater effect to the 
 stroke of the paddles upon the water. 
 
 When at length her motion is such as to satisfy him, 
 upon the smooth surface of the river, he turns her course, 
 we will imagine, toward the rapids, to see how she will 
 sustain a greater trial. As he increases her steam, to give 
 her power to overcome the new force with which she has 
 to contend, he watches, with eager interest, her boiler, 
 inspects the gage and the safety-valves, and from her 
 movements under the increased pressure of her steam he 
 receives suggestions for further improvements, or for 
 precautions which will insure greater safety. These he 
 executes, and thus he perhaps goes on for many days, or 
 even weeks, trying and examining, for the purpose of 
 improvement, every working of that mighty power, to 
 which he knows hundreds of lives are soon to be intrust- 
 ed. This now is probation trial for the sake of improve* 
 ment. And what are its results ? Why, after this course 
 has been thoroughly and faithfully pursued, this floating 
 palace receives upon her broad deck, and in her carpet- 
 ed and curtained cabins, her four or five hundred pas- 
 sengers, who pour in, in one long procession of happy 
 groups, over the bridge of planks ; father and son mo- 
 ther and children young husband and wife all with 
 implicit confidence trusting themselves and their dearest 
 interests to her power. See her as she sails away how 
 beautiful and yet how powerful are all her motions ! 
 That beam glides up and down gently and smoothly in 
 its grooves, and yet gentle as it seems, hundreds of 
 horses could not hold it still ; there is no apparent vio- 
 lence, but every movement is with almost irresistible 
 
 13* 

 
 209 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 10. 
 
 Her power. Safe and .successful action. 
 
 power. How graceful is her form, and yet how mighty 
 is the momentum with which she presses on her way. 
 Loaded with life, and herself the very symbol of life and 
 power, she seems something ethereal unreal, which, ere 
 we look again, will have vanished away. And though she 
 has within her bosom a furnace glowing with furious 
 fires, and a reservoir of death the elements of most 
 dreadful ruin and conflagration of destruction the most 
 complete, and agony the most unutterable ; and though 
 her strength is equal to the united energy of two thousand 
 men, she restrains it all. She was constructed by genius, 
 and has been tried and improved by fidelity and skill; 
 and one man governs and controls her, stops her and sets 
 her in motion, turns her this way and that, as easily and 
 certainly as the child guides the gentle lamb. She walks 
 over the hundred and sixty miles of her route without 
 rest and without fatigue, and the passengers who have 
 slept in safety in their berths, with destruction by water 
 without, and by fire within, defended only by a plank 
 from the one, and by a sheet of copper from the other, 
 land at the appointed time in safety. 
 
 My reader, you have within you susceptibilities and 
 powers of which you have little present conception, 
 energies which are hereafter to operate in producing full- 
 ness of enjoyment or horrors of suffering of which you 
 now but little conceive. You are now on trial. God 
 wishes you to prepare yourself for safe and happy ac- 
 tion. He wishes you to look within, to examine the 
 complicated movements of your heart, to detect what is 
 wrong, to modify what needs change, and rectify every 
 irregular motion. You go out to try your moral powers 
 upon the stream of active life, and then return to retire- 
 ment, to improve what is right and remedy what is 
 wrong. Renewed opportunities of moral practice are 
 given you, that you may go on from strength to strength 
 until every part o.f that complicated moral machinery of
 
 Ch. 10.] TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 
 
 Lite a time of trial. Trials of childhood. 
 
 which the human heart consists, will work as it ought to 
 work, and is prepared to accomplish the mighty pur- 
 poses for which your powers are designed. You are on 
 trial OTi probation now. You will enter upon active 
 service in another world. 
 
 In order however that the reader may understand fully 
 the views to be presented in this chapter, I wish to point 
 out particularly the difference between the condition of 
 the boat I have described, when she was on trial, and 
 when she was afterward in actual service. While she 
 was on trial she sailed this way and that, merely for the 
 purpose of ascertaining her powers and her deficiencies, 
 in order that the former might be increased, and the lat- 
 ter remedied. The engineer steered her to the rapids, 
 we supposed ; but it was not because he particularly 
 wished to pass the rapids, but only to try the power of 
 the boat upon them. Perhaps with the same design he 
 might run along a curved or indented shore, penetrating 
 deep into creeks, or sweeping swiftly round projecting 
 head-lands ; and this, not because he wishes to examine 
 that shore, but only to see how his boat will obey her 
 helm. Thus he goes on placing her again and again 
 in situations of difficulty, for the purpose simply of prov- 
 ing her powers, and enabling him to perfect the opera- 
 tion of her machinery. Afterward, when she comes in- 
 to actual service, when she has received her load, and is 
 transporting it to its place of destination, the object is 
 entirely changed; service, not improvement, is then the 
 aim. Her time of trial is ended. 
 
 The Bible every where considers this world as one of 
 trial and discipline, introductory to another world of 
 actual service. A child, as he comes forward into life, 
 is surrounded with difficulties which might easily have 
 been avoided if the Ruler over all had wished to avoid 
 them. But he did not. That child is on trial moral 
 trial ; and just exactly as the helmsman of the steam-boat
 
 300 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 10. 
 
 The child and the forbidden book. Command. 
 
 steered her to the rapids for the purpose of bringing her 
 into difficulty, so does God arrange in such a manner the 
 circumstances of childhood and youth as to bring the 
 individual into various difficulties which will try his mo- 
 ral powers, and, if the child does his duty, be the means 
 of improving them. He may learn contentment and 
 submission by the thousand disappointments which oc- 
 cur, patience and fortitude by his various sufferings, and 
 perseverance by encountering the various obstacles 
 which oppose his progress. These difficulties, and suf- 
 ferings, and obstacles might all have easily been avoided. 
 God might have so formed the human mind, and so ar- 
 ranged the circumstances of life, that every thing should 
 have gone smoothly with us. But he wishes for these 
 things as trials trials for the sake of our improvement ; 
 and he has filled life with them, from the cradle to the 
 grave. 
 
 To obtain a vivid idea of this, let us look at this little 
 child. She is just able to walk about the floor of her 
 mother's parlor, and though her life is full of sources of 
 happiness, it is full likewise of sources of disappoint- 
 ment and suffering. A moment since she was delighted 
 with a plaything which her mother had given her, but 
 now she has laid it aside, and is advancing toward a va- 
 luable book which lies upon the chair. She is just reach- 
 ing out her little arm to take it, when she is arrested by 
 her mother's well known voice : 
 
 " Mary ! Mary ! must not touch the book." 
 
 A child as young as this will understand language 
 though she cannot use it, and she will obey commands. 
 She looks steadily at her mother a moment with an in- 
 quiring gaze, as if uncertain whether she heard aright. 
 The command is repeated: 
 
 " No, Mary must not touch the book." 
 
 The child, I will suppose, has been taught to obey, but 
 in such a case as this it is a hard duty. Her little eyes
 
 Ch. 10.] TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 301 
 
 Pain. Advantage of trial in childhood. 
 
 fill with tears, which perhaps she makes an effort to drive 
 away, and soon seeks amusement elsewhere. Now, if 
 such a child has been managed right, she will be improved 
 by such a trial. The principle of obedience and sub- 
 mission will have been strengthened ; it will be easier for 
 her to yield to parental command on the next occasion. 
 
 But see, as she totters along back to her mother, she 
 trips over her little cricket and falls to the floor. The 
 terror and pain, though we should only smile at it, are 
 sufficient to overwhelm her entirely. Her mother gently 
 raises her, tries to soothe her, and soon you can distinctly 
 perceive that the child is struggling to repress her emo- 
 tions. Her sobs are gradually restrained, the tears flow 
 less freely, and soon the sunshine of a smile breaks over 
 her face, and she jumps down again to play. This now 
 has been a useful trial; pain and fright has once been 
 conquered, and it will have less power over her in future. 
 
 But though there is a real and most important benefit 
 to be derived from these trials of infancy, the child her- 
 self cannot understand it. No child can become pre- 
 pared for the future duties of life without them, and yet 
 no child, of such an age, can understand why they are 
 necessary. The mother might say to her, in attempting 
 to explain it, as follows : 
 
 " Mary, I might save you from all these difficulties and 
 troubles if I chose. I might put you in a room where 
 every thing was cushioned so that you could not hurt your- 
 self, and I might keep carefully out of your sight every 
 article which you ought not to have. Thus you might be 
 saved all your pains and disappointments. But I choose 
 not to do this. I want you to become useful and happy 
 hereafter, and so you must learn submission, and patience, 
 and fortitude now. So I leave the book in the chair, 
 where you can see it, and tell you you must not touch 
 it; and I leave you to fall a little now and then, for the 
 pain only lasts a moment. But if you try to conquer your
 
 302 VOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 9. 
 
 Pulling playthings out of reach. Conversation with a mother. 
 
 fears and bear the pain patiently, it will do you lasting 
 good ; your character will acquire firmness and vigor, 
 and you will thus be prepared for the duties of future 
 life." 
 
 The child now would not understand all this, but it 
 would be true, whether she should understand it or not, 
 and the judicious mother, who knows what is the design 
 of education and (he manner in which children are to be 
 trained up to future duty, will not be sorry to have her 
 children repeatedly tried. These repeated trials are the 
 very means of forming their characters, and were it pos- 
 sible to avoid them entirely, instead of meeting and con- 
 quering them, the child, exposed to such a course of 
 treatment, would be ruined. Sometimes parents seem to 
 make efforts to avoid them, and in going into such a 
 family you will find the shovel and tongs, perhaps, placed 
 upon the mantelpiece, so that the children cannot touch 
 them, and the mother will not dare to bring a plate of 
 cake into the room for fear that they should cry for it. In- 
 stead of accustoming them to trials of this kind, and 
 teaching them obedience and submission, she makes a 
 vain effort to remove all occasion for the exercise of self- 
 denial. If, perchance, these remarks are read by any 
 mother who feels that she is pursuing the course which 
 they condemn, I would stop a moment to say to her as 
 follows : 
 
 Do you expect that you can govern your children for 
 fifteen years to come in this way ? Can you put every 
 thing, which, during all this period, they shall want, 
 which they ought not to have, upon the mantelpiece, as 
 you do the shovel and tongs? 
 
 "No," you reply smiling, "I do not expect to do it. 
 My child will soon become older, and then I can teach 
 him obedience more easily." 
 
 You never can teach him obedience so easily as when 
 he is frst able to understand a simple command, and
 
 Ch. 10.] TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 303 
 
 Trials not to be shunned. 
 
 that is long before he is able to walk. And there is no 
 way by which obedience and submission can be so effectu- 
 ally taught to child or to man as by actual trial. That 
 is the way in which God teaches it to you, and that is the 
 way you ought to teach it to your child. God never 
 puts sin away out of our reach ; he leaves it all around 
 us, and teaches us by actual trial to resist its calls. 
 
 " I know this is right," you reply; " but sometimes I 
 am busy I am engaged in important duties, and do not 
 wish to be interrupted ; and on such occasions I remove 
 improper playthings out of the reach of my child, be- 
 cause, just then, I have not time to teach him a lesson ot 
 obedience." 
 
 But what important business is that which you put into 
 competition with the whole character and happiness ot 
 your child ? If your sons or your daughters grow up in 
 habits of disobedience to your commands, they will em- 
 bitter your life, and bring down your gray hairs with sor- 
 row to the grave. You never can gain an ascendancy over 
 them so easily as in infancy and you cannot in any other 
 way so effectually undermine your power, and prevent 
 your ever obtaining an ascendancy over them, as by ac- 
 customing them in childhood to understand that, in your 
 endeavors to keep them from doing what is wrong, you 
 do not aim at strengthening their own moral principle, 
 and accustoming them to meet and to resist the ordinary 
 temptations of life, but that you depend upon a vain effort 
 to remove them entirely away from trial ; so that if you 
 could succeed, you render it equally impossible for them 
 to do right or wrong. 
 
 Yes ; trial is essential in childhood, and God has so 
 arranged the circumstances of early life, that parents can- 
 not evade it. It must come. It may be removed in a 
 very few cases, but that only brings additional difficulty 
 upon those that remain ; ami it is far better not to attempt 
 to evade it at all. Come up then, parents, boldly to the
 
 304 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 10. 
 
 Instruction and practice. 
 
 work of accustoming your children to trial. If you see a 
 child going toward an open door, do not run to shut it 
 so that he cannot go out; command him not to go, and 
 enforce obedience ; if you do any thing to the door at all, 
 throw it wide open, and say mildly, "I will see whether 
 you will disobey." Do not put the book or the paper 
 which you wish him not to touch high upon a shelf, away 
 from his reach ; if you change its place at all, lay it upon 
 the floor, and tell him not to touch it. Remember that 
 youth is a season of probation and trial, and unless you 
 avail yourself of the opportunities of probation and trial 
 which it presents, you lose half the advantages which the 
 Creator had in view in arranging the circumstances of 
 childhood as he has. 
 
 Now the whole of life is, equally with the years of 
 childhood, a time of probation and trial it is filled up 
 with difficulties and obstacles, and sources of slight dis- 
 appointment and suffering, for the very purpose of try- 
 ing and increasing our moral strength. And all these 
 things are, or may be, sources of enjoyment. They will 
 be sources of enjoyment if we take the right view of them, 
 as I shall explain more fully hereafter. God has so ar- 
 ranged it, that we have, in passing through life, a speci 
 men of almost every sort of moral difficulty ; and every 
 moral power of the heart may be brought into active ex- 
 ercise, and cherished and strengthened by the trial if the 
 opportunity is rightly improved. 
 
 God has therefore made a double provision for the 
 moral growth of men. First, he has given us instruction 
 in our duty in the Bible ; and secondly, he has given us 
 opportunity to practise in the various difficulties and du- 
 ties of life. The Bible is full and complete as a book of 
 directions. Human life is full and complete as a field for 
 practice. The best parade ground for drilling and disci- 
 plining an army would not be a smooth and level plain, 
 but an irregular region, diversified with hills and plains,
 
 Ch. 10.] TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 306 
 
 The merchant's plan for his son. A voyage of difficulty. 
 
 where the inexperienced army might practise every evo- 
 lution now passing a defile, now ascending an acclivity, 
 now constructing and crossing a bridge. So human life, 
 to answer the purposes intended as a field for moral ex- 
 ercise, must have a variety of difficulties, to enable us to 
 practise every virtue, and to bring into active requisition 
 every right principle of heart. 
 
 A wealthy man, I will suppose, engaged in commercial 
 pursuits in a great city, wished to prepare his son to ma- 
 nage his business when he should be old enough to take 
 charge of it. He accordingly gave him a thorough com- 
 mercial education in school ; but before he received him 
 into his partnership, he thought it would be necessary to 
 give him some practical knowledge of his future duties. 
 
 " My son," says he to himself, " is now theoretically 
 acquainted with all which is necessary, but he wants the 
 readiness, and the firmness, and the confidence of prac- 
 tice. To complete his education I will give him a tho- 
 rough trial. I will fit out a small vessel, and let him take 
 charge of her cargo. I will so plan the voyage, that it 
 shall embrace an unusual share of difficulty and trial ; for 
 my very design is to give him practical knowledge and 
 skill, which come only through such a trial." 
 
 He accordingly fits out his ship. He thinks very little 
 of the success of the voyage in a pecuniary point of view, 
 because that is not his object. He rejects one port of 
 destination, because it is too near ; another, because the 
 passage to it is short and direct ; and another, because the 
 disposal of a cargo there is attended with no difficulty. 
 He at last thinks of a voyage which will answer his de- 
 sign. The passage lies through a stormy sea. Rocks 
 and quicksands, and perhaps pirates, fill it with dangers. 
 The port at which he will arrive is one distinguished by 
 the intricacy of its government-regulations. His son is a 
 stranger to the language of the country, and a great dis- 
 cretionary power will be necessary in the selection of a
 
 306 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 10. 
 
 Its design. Its effects. 
 
 return cargo. This, says the merchant, is exactly the 
 place. This voyage will comprehend more difficulties, 
 and dangers, and trials than any other, and will, accord- 
 ingly, be exactly the thing for my son. 
 
 Perhaps you may say a father would not form such a 
 design as this he would not expose his son to so many 
 difficulties and dangers. I know he might not go as far 
 as 1 have represented, but the reason why he would not, 
 would be because he might be afraid that some of these 
 dangers would overpower the young man entirely. He 
 would not send him among rocks and whirlpools, for in- 
 stance, for the sake of getting him into danger, because 
 he would fear that that danger might result in death. If, 
 however, he could be sure of ultimate safety if, for ex- 
 ample, he could, as our great Father in heaven can, go 
 along with his boy, and, though unseen and unheard, keep 
 constantly at his side in every danger, with power to 
 bring effectual protection if earthly fathers had such 
 power as this, there would be a thousand who would take 
 the course I have described. They would see that there 
 could be nothing so well calculated to give maturity and 
 efficiency to the character, and to prepare the young man 
 for persevering fidelity and eminent success in his future 
 business, as such a discipline as this. 
 
 The young man at length sets sail. He understands 
 the object of his father in planning the voyage, and he 
 goes with a cordial desire of making it the means of pro- 
 moting his improvement as far as possible. Instead oi 
 being sorry that a plan embracing so many difficulties 
 and trials had been chosen for him, he rejoices in it. lie. 
 certainly would rejoice in it, if he had confidence in his 
 father's protection. When he comes into the stormy 
 ocean through which he has to pass, instead of murmur- 
 ing at the agitated sea and gloomy sky, he stands upon 
 the deck, riding from billow to billow, thinking of hia 
 father's presence and confiding in his protection, and
 
 Ch. 10.] TRIAI, AND DISCIPLINE. 307 
 
 The uses of trial. 
 
 growing in moral strength and fortitude every hour. 
 The gale increases, and the fury of the storm tries his 
 nerve to the utmost ; but he does not regret its violence, 
 or wish to quiet a single surge. He knows that it is his 
 trial, and he rejoices in it, and when through his increas- 
 ing moral strength he has triumphed over its power, he 
 stands contemplating its fury with a spirit quiet and un- 
 disturbed. At length the wind lulls ; the clouds break 
 nway, and the bright rays of the setting sun beam upon 
 the dripping sails and rigging. The waves subside a 
 steady breeze carries the ship forward smoothly on her 
 course ; and he who has been enduring the discipline of 
 the scene feels that he has made progress that he has 
 taken one step toward the accomplishment of the object 
 of his voyage. 
 
 Christian ! God has plai ned just such a voyage for 
 you. He has filled it with diflicullies and trials, that you 
 may, by means of them, discipline and perfect all your 
 moral powers. When therefore the dark, gloomy storm 
 rises upon you, and night shuts in, and danger presses, 
 and your heart feels itself burdened with a load which it 
 can scarcely sustain, never repine at it. Think how near 
 is your protector. Confide in him, and remember that 
 your present voyage is one of trial. 
 
 2. THE USES OF TRIAL. 
 
 I think it must be very evident to all who have read 
 what I have already written upon this subject, that it is 
 of immense advantage to moral beings, who are to be 
 trained up to virtue, and to firmness of principle and of 
 character, that they should not only receive instruction 
 in duty, but ,hat they should be thus put upon trial, to 
 acquire by actual experience a firm and steady habit of 
 correct moral action. This can, however, be made more
 
 308 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 10. 
 
 Self-knowledge. 
 
 clear, if I analyze more particularly the effects of such 
 trial upon the heart. 
 
 1. It enables us to know ourselves. People never 
 know their own characters till they are tried. We very 
 often condemn very severely other persons for doing 
 what, if we had been placed in their circumstances, we 
 should have done ourselves. " Ye know not what spirit 
 ye are of," said the Savior. Very few persons know 
 what spirit they are of, until an hour of temptation brings 
 forth the latent propensities of the heart into action. How 
 will a revengeful spirit slumber in a man's bosom, and his 
 face be covered with smiles till some slight insult or in- 
 dignity calls it forth, and makes him at once the victim of 
 ungovernable passion ! Yes ; trial reveals to us our true 
 character. 
 
 It brings to light the traits of Christian character which 
 would not be understood at all without it. I have a case 
 in mind, which I will describe, which is a very common 
 case, precisely as I describe it here ; so common, that 
 very probably a great many of my readers may consider 
 it as their own. 
 
 A Christian mother had an only child whom she ar- 
 dently loved. The mother was an influential member of 
 the church, and was ardently interested in maintaining a 
 high Christian character, and in studying, faithfully and 
 perseveringly, religious truth. She became much inte- 
 rested in the view which the Bible presents of the Divine 
 Sovereignty ; she used to dwell with delight upon the 
 contemplation of God's universal power over all ; she 
 used to rejoice, as she thought, in his entire authority 
 over her ; she took pleasure in reflecting that she was 
 completely in his hands, soul and body, for time and for 
 eternity, and she wondered that any person could fiml 
 any source of difficulty or embarrassment in the Scrip- 
 ture representations on this subject. 
 
 But she did not know her heart. Her beloved child
 
 Ch. Id] TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 309 
 
 The deceived mother. The engineer was watchful 
 
 was sick and she stood anxious and agitated over her 
 pillow, very far from showing a cordial willingness that 
 God should rule. She was afraid, very much afraid, that 
 her child would die. Instead of having that practical be- 
 lief in the divine sovereignty, and that cordial confidence 
 in God, which would have given her in this trying hour 
 a calm and happy acquiescence in the divine will, she 
 M-as restless and uneasy her soul had no peace, morning 
 or night. Her daughter sunk, by a progress which was 
 slow, but irresistible, to the grave, and for weeks that 
 mother was in utter misery because she could not find it 
 in her heart to submit to the divine will. She had believ- 
 ed in the universal power of God as a theoretical truth ; 
 she had seen its abstract beauty ; she thought she rejoiced 
 in God's superintending power, but it was only while all 
 went well with her ; as soon as God began to exercise 
 that power which she had so cordially acknowledged and 
 rejoiced in, ia a way which was painful to her, her heart 
 rose against it in a moment, and would not submit. The 
 trial brought out to her view her true feelings in regard 
 to the absolute and unbounded authority of God. Now, 
 there is a great deal of such acquiescence in God's do- 
 minion as this in the world, and a great deal of it is ex- 
 posed by trial every day. 
 
 The case of the steam engine, which I supposed at the 
 commencement of this chapter, illustrates this part of my 
 subject exactly. The engineer tried th$ boat for the pur- 
 pose of learning fully the character and operation of her 
 machinery. Though he had actually himself superin- 
 tended the construction of every part of the work, he 
 could not fully understand the character and the power 
 of the machine until he had tried it. While the experi- 
 ment was making, he was watching every movement with 
 a most scrutinizing eye ; he discovered faults, or defi- 
 ciencies, or imperfections, which nothing but actual trial 
 could have revealed.
 
 310 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 
 
 The Christian boy going to school. 
 
 It is on exactly the same principle that discipline and 
 trial is useful, to enable us fully to understand our cha- 
 racters ; and in order to avail ourselves of this advan- 
 tage, we should watch ourselves most carefully, when 
 placed in any new or untried situation, to see how our 
 moral powers are affected by it. We must notice every 
 imperfection and every deficiency which the trial brings 
 to oqr view. 
 
 2. Discipline and trial are the means of improvement. 
 Besides giving us an insight into our characters, they 
 will, if properly improved, enable us to advance in the 
 attainment of every excellence. I ought however, per- 
 haps, to say they may be made the means of improve- 
 ment, rather than that they actually will be so. The 
 steam-boat was in a better condition after the first day's 
 trial than before; but it was because the engineer was 
 attentive and watchful, doing his utmost to avail himself 
 of every opportunity to increase the smoothness and the 
 power of her motion. So with human trials. 
 
 See yonder child going to school. His slate is under 
 his arm, and he is going this day to make an attempt to 
 understand long division. He is young, and the les- 
 son, though it may seem simple to us, is difficult to him. 
 He knows what difficulty and perplexity is before him, 
 and he would, perhaps, under ordinary circumstances, 
 shrink from the hard task. But he is a Christian. He 
 has asked forgiveness for his past sins in the name of 
 Jesus Christ, and is endeavoring to live in such a manner 
 as to please his Father above. He knows that God might 
 easily have formed his mind so that mathematical truths 
 and processes might be plain to him at once, and that he 
 has not done so, for the very purpose of giving him a use- 
 ful discipline by the trial which the effort to learn neces- 
 sarily brings 
 
 He says therefore to himself as he walks along to his 
 school-room, " My lesson to-day is not only to do this
 
 Ch. 10.] TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 311 
 
 The moral ami arithmetical question. 
 
 sum, but to learn to be patient and faithful in duty, and I 
 must learn the arithmetical and the moral lesson together. 
 I will try to do it. I will begin my work, looking to God 
 for help, and I will go on through it, if I can, with a calm 
 and quiet spirit, so as to learn not only to divide a num- 
 ber, but to persevere in duty." With this spirit he sits 
 down to his work, and watches himself narrowly, that he 
 may check every rising of impatience, and obtain, by 
 means of the very difficulties that now try him, a greater 
 self-command than he ever before possessed. In fact he 
 takes a strong interest in the very difficulty, because he 
 is interested in the moral experiment which it enables 
 him to make. 
 
 Now, when such a spirit as this is cherished, and the 
 mind is under its influence in all the difficulties arid trlils 
 of life, how rapidly must the heart advance in every ex- 
 cellence ! There certainly can be no \vay by which a 
 young person can so effectually acquire a patient and 
 persevering spirit, as by meeting real difficulties with 
 such a state of mind as I have described. They who 
 have been trained in the hard school of difficulty and 
 trial, almost always possess a firmness of character which 
 it is vain to look for elsewhere. There must, however, 
 be effort on the part of the individual to improve the 
 trial, or he will grow worse instead of belter by it. 
 Learning simple division in schools is, perhaps, h3 often 
 a means of promoting an impatient and fretful spirit as 
 the contrary. It is the disposition on the part of the in- 
 dividual that determines which effect is to be the result. 
 Some men, by the misfortunes and crosses of life, are 
 'made misanthropes; others, by the same disappoint- 
 ments and sufferings, are made humble and happv Chris- 
 tians, with feelings kindly disposed toward their fellow 
 men, and calmly submissive toward God. 
 
 The object, then, which the Creator had in view in 
 arranging the circumstances of probation and discipline
 
 312 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 10. 
 
 Practical directions. 
 
 :n which we are placed, is two-fold: That we may un- 
 derstand, and that we may improve our characters. We 
 are to learn different lessons from the different circum- 
 stances and situations in which we are placed, but we are 
 to learn some lesson from all. God might easily have 
 so formed the earth, and so arranged our connection with 
 it, as to save us all the vicissitudes, and trials, and changes 
 which we now experience. But he has made this world 
 a state of discipline and trial for us, that we may have 
 constant opportunities to call into active exercise every 
 Christian grace. The future world is the home for which 
 we are intended, and we are placed on trial here, that we 
 may prepare for it ; and the suffering and sorrow which 
 we experience on the way are small evils, compared to 
 the glorious results which we may hope for there. But 
 I must come to the practical directions which I intended 
 to present. 
 
 1. Consider every thing that befalls you as coming iu 
 the providence of God, and intended as a part of the sys- 
 tem of discipline and trial through which you are to pass. 
 This will help you to bear every thing patiently. An 
 irreligious man is on a journey requiring special haste, 
 and finds himself delayed by bad traveling or stormy 
 weather, until a steam-boat, which he had intended to have 
 taken, has sailed, and left him behind. He spends the 
 twenty-four hours during which he has to wait for the 
 next boat, in fretting and worrying himself over his dis- 
 appointment in useless complaints against the driver for 
 not having brought him on more rapidly in wishing that 
 the weather or the traveling had been better or in think- 
 ing how much his business must suffer by the delay. 
 The Christian, on the other hand, hears the intelligence, 
 that the boat has left him, with a quiet spirit ; and even 
 if he was hastening to the bedside of a dying child, he 
 would spend the intervening day in composure and 
 peace, saying, " The Lord has ordered this. It is to try
 
 Ch. 10.] TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 313 
 
 God's providence universal. Losses of every kind from God. 
 
 me. Heavenly Father, give me grace to stand the trial." 
 I say, the Christian would feel thus ; I should, perhaps, 
 have said, he ought to feel thus. Christians are very 
 much accustomed to consider all the great trials and suf- 
 ferings of life as coming from God, and as intended to 
 try them, but they fret and vex themselves unceasingly, 
 in regard to the little difficulties which, in the ordinary 
 walk of life, they have to encounter especially in what 
 is connected with the misconduct of others. You lend a 
 Taluable book, and it is returned to you spoiled : the 
 prints are soiled and worn ; the leaves are turned down in 
 some places, and loosened in others ; the binding is de- 
 faced, and the back is broken. Now you ought not to 
 stand looking at your spoiled volume, lamenting again 
 and again the misfortune, and making yourself miserable 
 for hours by your fretfulness and displeasure against the 
 individual who was its cause. He was indeed to blame, 
 but if you did your duty in lending the book, as without 
 doubt you did, you are in no sense responsible, and you 
 do wrong to make yourself miserable about it. The oc- 
 currence comes to you in the providence of God, and is 
 intended as a trial. He watches you to see how you 
 bear it. If you meet it with, a proper spirit, and learn 
 the lesson of patience and forbearance which it brings, 
 that spoiled book will do you more good than any splendid 
 volume crowded with prints, adorned with gilded bind- 
 ing, and preserved in a locked cabinet for you for twenty 
 years. 
 
 So with loss of every kind, whether it comes in the 
 foim of a broken piece of china or a counterfeit ten-dol- 
 lar bill found in the pocket-book, or the loss of your 
 whole property by the misfortunes of a partner or the 
 pressure of the times. No matter what is the magnitude 
 or the smallness of the loss no matter whether it cornea 
 from the culpable negligence or fraud of another, or more 
 directly from God, through the medium of flood or fire, 
 
 14
 
 314 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 10. 
 
 The careless engineer. 
 
 or the lightning of heaven ; so far as it is a loss affecting 
 you, it comes in the providence of God, and is intended 
 as a trial. If you are really interested in what ought to 
 be the great business of life, your growth in grace, you 
 will find that such trials will help you to understand your 
 own heart, and to train it up to a proper action under the 
 government of God, more than any thing beside. 
 
 2. Make it your aim to be continually learning the les- 
 sons which God by these various trials is endeavoring to 
 teach you. Every day is a day of discipline and trial. 
 Ask yourself every night then, ""What progress have I 
 made to-day ?'' Suppose the engineer, in the case of the 
 steam-boat on trial, to which I have several times-alluded, 
 had neglected altogether the operation of the machinery 
 when his boat was first put to the test. Suppose that in- 
 stead of examining minutely and carefully the structure 
 and the action of the parts, with a view to removing dif- 
 ficulties, rectifying defects, and supplying deficiencies, he 
 had been seated quietly upon the deck enjoying the sail. 
 He might have been gazing at the scenery of the shore, 
 or in vanity and self-complacency enjoying the admira- 
 tion which he imagined those who stood upon the wharf 
 were feeling for the degree of success which he had al- 
 ready attained. While he is thus neglecting his duty, 
 evils without number, and fraught with incalculable con- 
 sequences, are working below. The defects in his ma- 
 chinery are not discovered and not remedied ; its weak- 
 nesses remain unobserved and unrepaired ; and if at last 
 there should be intrusted to his care valuable property, 
 nothing can reasonably be expected but its destruction. 
 
 Multitudes of men, and even great numbers of those 
 who call themselves Christians, act the part of this infa- 
 tuated engineer. God tells them that their moral powers 
 are now on trial. He commands them to consider it their 
 business here not to be engrossed in the objects of inte- 
 rest which surround them as they pass on through life,
 
 Ch. 10.] TRIAL AND DISCIPLINE. 315 
 
 Neglect of duty. Concluding remarks. 
 
 nor to be satisfied with present attainments of any kind, 
 but to consider themselves as sailing now in troubled wa- 
 ters for the purpose of trial and improvement; to watch 
 themselves with constant self-examination, and with ho- 
 nest efforts to rectify what is wrong and to supply what 
 is deficient. He requires them to consider all the cir- 
 cumstances and occurrences of life as coming from him, 
 and as arranged with express reference to the attainment 
 of these objects. Notwithstanding all this, however, they 
 neglect the duty altogether. They do not watch them- 
 selves. They do not habitually and practically regard the 
 events of life as means to enable them to understand their 
 hearts, to strengthen, by constant exercise, moral princi- 
 ple, and to grow in grace. Instead of this, they are en- 
 gaged in simply endeavoring to secure as much present 
 good in this world as they can, and can see no good in 
 any trial and get no good from it. When they are sick, 
 they spend the time in longing to get well. When they 
 are disappointed, they make themselves miserable by 
 useless lamentations. Losses bring endless regrets, and 
 injuries impatience and anger, and thus half of life is 
 spent in struggles which are really the vain and hopeless 
 struggles of a weak man to get free from the authority 
 and government of God. 
 
 I have now completed what I intended to present on 
 the subject of probation ; and I think that all my readers 
 will easily see, that by taking such a view of life as this 
 subject presents to us, the whole aspect of our residence 
 in this world is at once changed. If you really feel what 
 I have been endeavoring to explain, you will regard your- 
 selves as strangers and pilgrims here, look.ag continual- 
 ly forward to another country r.s your home. The thou- 
 sand trials and troubles of life will lose half the Ir weight 
 by your regarding them in their true light, that is, as 
 means of moral discipline and improvement. You must. 

 
 316 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [CIl. II. 
 
 General improvement a Christian duty. 
 
 however, make a constant effort to do this. Make it a 
 part of your daily self-examination not only to ascertain 
 what is the state of your heart at the time of retirement, 
 but to review the incidents of the day, and to see ho\r 
 they have operated upon you as means of moral disci- 
 pline. See what traits of character those incidents have 
 brought to your view, and what effect they have had in 
 making you worse or better than you were in the morn- 
 ing. The little events and circumstances of every day 
 must have a very important influence of one kind or of 
 the other. If you neglect this influence, it will all go 
 wrong. If you attend to it, it may go well and happily 
 with you wherever you may be. 
 
 so 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 " The path of the just is as the shining light, which shineth more 
 and more unto the perfect day." 
 
 The chapters which the reader has just perused are 
 on subjects connected with the improvement of the cha- 
 racter : i. e. they are upon the means by which this im- 
 provement is to be promoted. Studying the Bible, keep- 
 ing the Sabbath, and exposure to discipline, are all intend- 
 ed to be means for the promotion of a moral progress. 
 There are some things, however, which I wish to say in 
 regard to the character itself as it goes on in the process 
 of improvement. Reader ! do you wish to avail yourself 
 of the opportunities and means I have described ? Do 
 you wish to study the Bible, remember the Sabbath, and 
 improve all the occurrences of life, as the means of pro- 
 moting jour progress in all that i? good ? If so, look now
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 317 
 
 Moral improvement. Faults. Th vain boy. 
 
 with me a little while into your character itself, that you 
 may see in what respect it needs your attention, and in 
 what way you can so employ the means I have describ- 
 ed as to gain the fullest benefit from them. As I think 
 that every young Christian ought most assiduously to 
 cultivate his moral, and also his intellectual powers, I 
 shall discuss in order both these points. 
 
 I. MORAL IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 Every young Christian will find, however sincerely and 
 ardently he may have given up his heart to God and 
 commenced a life of piety, that a vast number of faults 
 remain to be corrected faults which he acquired while 
 he lived in sin, and which the force of habit have fixed 
 upon him. Now you know what these faults are, or you 
 may very easily learn, and your first effort is to correct 
 them. 
 
 In order now to make clear the course which I think 
 ought to be taken to correct such faults, I will suppose 
 a case, and bring into it the various methods which may 
 be adopted for this purpose ; and I shall write the ac- 
 count with a double aspect one toward parents, with 
 the design of showing them what sort of efforts they 
 ought to make to correct the faults of their children, and 
 the other toward the young, to show what measures 
 they should adopt to improve themselves. 
 
 First, however, I will mention a very common, but a 
 rery ineffectual mode of attempting to correct faults. A 
 father sees in his son some exhibition of childish vanity, 
 and he says to him instantly, at the very time of the oc- 
 currence, "You are acting in a very foolish manner. You 
 show a great deal of vanity and self-conceit by such con- 
 duct ; and in fact I have observed that you are growing 
 very vain for some months past ; I don't know what we 
 shall do to correct it"
 
 318 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Way to reform him. Conversation with his father. 
 
 The poor boy hangs his head and looks ashamed, and 
 his father, talking about it a few minutes longer in a half 
 irritated tone, dismisses and forgets the subject. The boy 
 refrains, perhaps, from that particular exhibition of va- 
 nity for a little while, and that is probably all the good 
 which results from the reproof. 
 
 Another wiser parent sees with regret the rising spi- 
 rit of self-conceit in his son ; and instead of rushing on 
 to attack it without plan or design at the first momenta- 
 ry impulse, he resorts to a very different course. He 
 notices several cases remembers them reflects that the 
 evil, which has been forming perhaps for years, cannot 
 be corrected by a single abrupt reproof and according- 
 ly forms a plan for a protracted moral discipline in the 
 case, and then seeks a favorable opportunity to execute it. 
 
 One day, after the father has been granting some un- 
 usual indulgence, and they have spent the day happily 
 together in some plan of enjoyment, and are riding home 
 slowly in a pleasant summer evening, he thus addresses 
 his son: 
 
 " Well, Samuel, you have been a good boy, and we 
 have had a pleasant time. Now I am going to give you 
 something to do, which, if you do it right, will wind up 
 the day very pleasantly." 
 
 " What is it?" says Samuel. 
 
 " I am not certain that it will please you, but you may 
 do as you choose about undertaking it. It will not be 
 pleasant at first; the enjoyment will come afterward." 
 
 Samuel. " But what is it, father? I think I shall like to 
 do it." 
 
 Father. " Do you think you have any faults, Samuel ?" 
 
 S. " Yes, sir, I know I have a great many." 
 
 JF. " Yes, you have ; and all boys have. Some wish 
 to correct them, and others do not. Now I have sup- 
 posed that you do wish to correct them, and I had thought 
 of describing to you one of your faults, and then telling
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 319 
 
 Instances of vanity. 
 
 you of a particular thing which you can do which will 
 help you to correct it. But then it will not be very 
 pleasant for you to sit here and have me find fault with 
 you, and mention a number of instances in which yon 
 have done wrong, and particularize all the little circum- 
 stances which increased the guilt; this, I say, will not 
 be very pleasant, even though you know that my design 
 is not to blame you, but to help you improve. But then 
 if you undertake it, and after a little while find that you 
 are really improving, then you will feel happier for the 
 effort. Now I wish you to consider both, and tell me 
 whether you wish me to give you a fault to correct or 
 not." 
 
 If the boy now has been under a kind, and gentle, but 
 efficient government, he will almost certainly desire to 
 have the fault, and the way by which he is to correct it, 
 pointed out. If so, the father may proceed as follows : 
 
 ** The fault I am going to mention now, is vanity. Now 
 it is right for you to desire my approbation. It is right 
 for you not only to do your duty, but to wish that others 
 should know that you do it. I think too, it is right for 
 you to take pleasure in reflecting on your improvement, 
 as you go on improving from year to year. But when 
 you fancy your improvement to be greater than it is, or 
 imagine that you have excellencies, which you possess 
 in a very slight degree, or when you obtrude some trifling 
 honor upon the notice of strangers for the sake of get- 
 ting their admiration, you exhibit vanity. Now, did you 
 know that you had this fault 1" 
 
 S. " I do not know that I have thought of it particu- 
 larly. I suppose though that I do have it." 
 
 JF. " Your having the fault now is of very little con- 
 sequence, if you only take hold of it in earnest and cor- 
 rect it. It has grown up with you insensibly ; in fact, 
 almost all children fall into it. I presume that I had it 
 as much as you have, when I was as young. Do you think
 
 320 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [CIl. 11. 
 
 The boy's list. Effect of this confession. 
 
 now that you can recollect any cases in which you have 
 shown vanity?" 
 
 S. I don't know ; perhaps I could if I should have a 
 little time." 
 
 F. " Well, I will give you time to think, and if you 
 really wish to correct yourself of the fault, you may think 
 of all the cases you can, and tell me of them. If you 
 prefer it, you may write the list and show it to me." 
 
 Now, if the subject is taken up in this spirit, most boys, 
 who had been treated on these principles before, would 
 receive the communication with pleasure, and would 
 engage with interest in the work of exploring the heart. 
 And such a boy will succeed. He will bring a list ot 
 instances, not perhaps fully detailed, but alluded to dis- 
 tinctly enough to recall them to mind. His list might 
 be perhaps something as follows : 
 
 " Dear Father, " I have made out a list of the times 
 in which I was vain, and I now send it to you. 
 
 " 1. I brought out my writing-book a few evening* 
 since, when some company was here, in hopes they would 
 ask to see it. 
 
 " 2. I said yesterday at table, that there was something 
 in the lesson which none of the boys could recite until 
 it came to me, and I recited it. 
 
 " 3. I pretended to talk Latin with George when walk- 
 ing, thinking that you and the other gentlemen would 
 overhear it. 
 
 " I suppose I could think of many other cases if I 
 had time. I am glad you told me of the fault, for I think 
 it a very foolish one, and I wish to correct it. 
 
 " Your dutiful son. ." 
 
 Now, let me ask every one of my readers who has any 
 knowledge of human nature, whether, if the effort of the 
 father to correct this fault should stop here, a most pow-
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 321 
 
 Secret confession to be minute. 
 
 erful blow would not have been struck. Do you think 
 that a boy can make such a self-examination, and con- 
 fess freely his faults in this manner, without making a 
 real progress in forsaking them ? Can he as easily, after 
 this, attempt to display his accomplishments, or talk of 
 his exploits ? 
 
 The process ought not to stop here, but this is the first 
 step ; confession full, free, and particular confession. 
 In the first chapter I described the power of confession 
 to restore peace of mind, after it is lost by sin ; and in al- 
 luding to the subject of confession again here, it will be 
 seen that I look to another aspect of it, viz. its tendency 
 to promote reformation. It is in this latter respect only 
 that consider it now. 
 
 The first step then which any of you are to take in 
 order to break the chains of any sinful habit which you 
 have formed, is to confess it fully and freely. That sin- 
 gle act will do more to give your fault its death blow, 
 than almost any thing else you can do. If you are a 
 child, you can derive great assistance from Confessing to 
 your parents. If you shrink from Balking with them face 
 to face about your follies and faults, you can write. Or 
 confess, and express your determination to amend, to 
 some confidential friend of your own age ; but above all, 
 be sure to confess to God ; lay the whole case before 
 him in full detail. I cannot press upon you too fully the 
 necessity of being distinct and definite, and going- into 
 full detail, in these confessions. 
 
 There is one very erroneous impression which ) r oung 
 persons receive from hearing public prayer. It is alway, 
 as it ought to be, general in its language, both of con 
 fession and request. Take for instance the following 
 language of the prayer book of the Protestant Episcopal 
 Church, so admirably adapted to its purpose : 
 
 " We have erred and strayed from thy ways like lost 
 sheep. We have Allowed too much the devices and de- 
 
 14* 

 
 322 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Secret prayer often too general. 
 
 sires of our own hearts. We have offended against thy 
 holy laws. We have left undone those things which we 
 ought to have done ; and we "have done those things 
 which we ought not to have done ; and there is no health 
 in us." 
 
 How general is this language. It is so with our Sa- 
 vior's model of prayer ! " Forgive us our debts, as we 
 forgive those who are indebted to us." Public prayer 
 ought to be somewhat general in its expressions, for it is 
 the united voice often of thousands, and should express 
 acknowledgments and petitions which are common to 
 them all. 
 
 But the mistake that multitudes fall into is, that when 
 they begin to pray themselves, they take public prayer as 
 the model for secret supplication ; and they spend their 
 season of retirement in repeating the same general sup- 
 plications which they hear irom the pulpit in the hour 
 of public worship. But this is a very great error. The 
 very object of secret prayer is to afford the soul an op- 
 portunity of going minutely into its own particular and 
 private case, There is no magic in solitude, no myste- 
 rious influence in the closet itself, to purify and sanctify 
 the heart. It is the opportunity which the closet affords 
 of bringing forward the individual case in all its par- 
 ticularity and detail, which gives to secret devotion its 
 immense moral power. The general and comprehensive 
 language which is adopted in public prayer, is thus adopt- 
 ed because it is the object of public prayer to express 
 only those wants, and to confess those sins, which are 
 common to all who join in it. The language must ne- 
 cessarily therefore be general. But it is always the in- 
 tention of those who use it, that minute detail should be 
 given in private supplications. In the prayer of the 
 Episcopal church, for example, the evening prayer for 
 families is printed thus :
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 303 
 
 Way to make prayer interesting. Formal confession. 
 
 " We come before thee in an humble 
 "Here let him sense o f our unworthiness, acknowledg- 
 who read, make a . manifold t ransgression8 of thy 
 
 /tort pause, thai * ' 
 
 tvcry one may con- righteous laws.* But O, gracious Fa- 
 fess the sins and ther, who desirest not the death of a 
 failings of that sinner, look upon us, we beseech thee, 
 *^"' in mercy, and forgive us all our trans- 
 
 gressions." 
 
 Here you will observe that on the margin it is suggest- 
 ed that this entering into detail should be done even in 
 the family worship. How much more when the indivi- 
 dual has retired alone, for the very purpose of bringing 
 forward the peculiar circumstances of his own case ! 
 
 This is the only way to make secret prayer interest- 
 ing, as well as profitable. A child, just before retiring to 
 rest, attempts to pray. He uses substantially the expres- 
 sions which he has heard ia the j ulpit : " I acknowledge 
 that I am a great sinner. I have done this day many 
 things which are wrong ; I have neglected many duties, 
 and broken many of thy commands." Now how easy is 
 it for a person to say all this with apparent fervor, and 
 yet have present to his mind while saying it, no one act 
 in which he really feels that he has done wrong, and 
 consequently no distinct mental feeling that he is guilty ! 
 Our confessions, half of the time, amount to nothing more 
 than a general acknowledgment of the doctrine of human 
 depravity. " I humbly confess that I have been a great 
 sinner this day," says a Christian at his evening prayer, 
 and while he says it, the real state of his mind is, "I sup- 
 pose I must have been so. All men are sinners, and I 
 know I am." As to any distinct and definite feeling of 
 personal guilt, it is often the farthest from the mind 
 while using such language. 
 
 It is astonishing how easily and how soon we become 
 habituated to the general language of confession, so aa
 
 324 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [CJl. 11 
 
 Excuses. Way to make secret prayer interesting. Private prayer. 
 
 to use it most freely without any sense of personal guilt. 
 A parent will reprove a boy for a fault, and the boy will, 
 as the father goes over the details, defend and excuse 
 himself at every step. Here he will lay off the blame 
 upon his brother there he will say he did not know 
 what else to do and in another respect he will say that 
 he tried to do as well as he could. And yet, after he has 
 finished all this, he will say gravely, " But I do not pre- 
 tend to excuse myself. I know I have done wrong." I 
 have had such cases occur continually in the manage- 
 ment of the young. 
 
 But do not forget what is the subject of this chapter. 
 It is the means of correcting faults, and as the first 
 means, I em describing full and particular confession of 
 the sins you wish to avoid in future. Before I go on, 
 however, I wish to say one thing in regard to the eflecl 
 of going into minute detail in prayer. It is the only way 
 to make prayer interesting. When you come at night, 
 with a mind wearied and exhausted with the labors of 
 the day, to your hour of retirement, you find your 
 thoughts wandering in prayer. No complaint is more 
 common than this. There is scarcely any question 
 which is asked more frequently of a pastor than this : 
 "How shall I avoid the sin of wandering thoughts in 
 prayer?" It would be asked, too, much oftener than it 
 is, were it not that Christians shrink from acknowledg- 
 ing to their religious teachers a fault which seems to im- 
 ply their want of interest in spiritual things. Now the 
 remedy in nine cases out of ten is, coming to particulars 
 in your prayers. Have no long formal exordiums. Aban- 
 don the common phrases of general confession and re- 
 quest, and come at once to the particular circum- 
 stances and minute wants and trials of the day. De- 
 scribe not only particular faults, but all the minute at- 
 tending circumstances. Feel that you are alone ; that 
 the restraints of publicity are removed from you ; that
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 325 
 
 Examples of minute confession. 
 
 you may safely abandon the phraseology and the form 
 which a proper respect for the customs of men retains in 
 the pulpit and at the family altar, and come and converse 
 with your great Protector, as a man converses with his 
 friend ; and remember that if you fasten upon one word 
 which you have spoken with an improper spirit, and con- 
 fess your guilt in that one sin, mentioning all the circum- 
 stances which gave it its true character, and exposing the 
 wicked emotions which dictated it, you make more truly 
 c confession than by repeating solemnly the best expres- 
 sion of the doctrine'of human depravity that creed, or 
 catechism, or system of theology ever gave. 
 
 But to return to the modes of correcting faults. If 
 your fault is one which long habit has riveted very 
 closely upon you, I would recommend that you confess 
 it in writing ; it is more distinct, and what you put upon 
 paper you impress very strongly upon your mind. Sup- 
 pose when evening comes, in reflecting upon the events 
 of the day, you remember an act of unkindness to a 
 younger brother. Now, sit down and write a full de- 
 scription of it, and make it appear in its true light. Do 
 not exaggerate it, nor extenuate it, but paint it in its true 
 colors. Express your sorrow, if you feel any, and ex- 
 press just as much as you feel. Be honest. Use no cant 
 phrase of acknowledgment, but just put upon paper your 
 actual feelings in regard to the transaction. Now, after 
 you have done this, you may, if you please, just fold up 
 the paper and put it into the fire ; but you cannot put 
 into the fire the vivid impression of your guilt which this 
 mode of confession will produce. Or you may, if you 
 prefer it, preserve it for a time, that you may read it 
 again, and renew the impression before you destroy it. 
 But it will be better to destroy it at last. It is not in 
 human nature to write its thoughts in such a case, with 
 the intention of preserving the record, without being se
 
 326 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 The Father's letter. 
 
 cretly influenced by the probability that the description 
 will sooner or later b-e seen. 
 
 But I must pass to the second step in the progress of 
 removing a fault. It is watchfulness. Suppose that the 
 father, in the case which I have imagined, in order to 
 illustrate this sulject, should say to his son, or which 
 would ba better still, should write to him as follows : 
 
 " My dear Son, I received your account of the in- 
 stances in which you have shown vanity. I am very glad 
 you are disposed to correct yourself of this fault, and will 
 now tell you what you are to do next. 
 
 " You would without doubt, if you had had time, 
 thought of many more instances, but you would not have 
 thought of all ; a great many would have escaped your 
 notice. You show vanity many times when you do not 
 know it yourself. When we are habituated to doing any 
 thing wrong, we become blinded by it, so that the vain- 
 est people "in the world scarcely know that they are vain 
 at all. Now, the next step you are to take is to regain 
 moral sensibility on this subject, so as to know clearly 
 what vanity is, and always to notice when you are guilty 
 of it. The way to do this is for you to watch yourself. 
 Notice your conduct for two days, and whenever you de- 
 tect yourself displaying vanity on any occasion, go and 
 make a memorandum of it. You need not write a full 
 description of it, for you would frequently not have time ; 
 but write enough to remind you of it, and then at the end 
 of the two days send the list to me. In the meantime 
 I will observe you, and if I see any instances of this fault 
 I will remember them, and see if I recollect any which 
 you have not marked down. 
 
 " It will not be very pleasant, my son, to watch your- 
 self thus for faults, but it is the most effectual means of 
 removing them. You may, however, do just as you please 
 about adopting this plan. If you adopt it, send your cata-
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 327 
 
 Object of this illustration. Faults to be corrected. 
 
 logue to me ; if you do not, you need not say any thing 
 about it. 
 
 " Your affectionate parent, ." 
 
 Now I wish my young readers to understand, that 
 though I have described fully this case, partly with a de- 
 sign to show to parents a good way to lead their children 
 to virtue, yet my main design is to explain to the young 
 a course which they may take themselves immediately 
 to correct their faults. I am in hopes that many a one 
 who reads this chapter will say to himself, " I have some 
 faults which I should like to correct, and I will try this 
 experiment." I wish you would try the experiment ; 
 you all know what your faults are. One can remember 
 that he is very often undutiful or disrespectful to his pa- 
 rents. Another is aware that she is not always kind to 
 her sister. Another is irritable often gets in a passion. 
 Another is forward and talkative ; her friends have often 
 reproved her, but she has never made any real systema- 
 tic effort to reform. Another is indolent often neglect- 
 ing known duties and wasting time. Thus every person 
 under twenty-five years of age is the victim of some mo- 
 ral disease, from which, though they may be Christians, 
 they are not fully freed. Now just try my prescription. 
 Take the two steps which I have described ; confess ful- 
 ly and minutely the particular fault which you wish first 
 to correct for it is best to attack one enemy at a time 
 and then with careful watchfulness keep a record of 
 your subsequent transgressions. You cannot do this with 
 a proper spirit of dependance on God and accountability 
 to him, without breaking the chains of any fault or any 
 habit which may now be domineering over you. The effi- 
 cacy of such moral treatment in these moral diseases is far 
 more Certain and powerful than that of any cordial in re- 
 storing the fainting powers. I hope therefore that every 
 young person who reads this will not merely express a 

 
 328 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. H 
 
 Young and old persons. 
 
 cool approbation of these plans, but will resolutely set to 
 work in examining his character, and in trying these me- 
 thods of altering or improving it. 
 
 ** Every young person ? And why not those who are 
 not young?" says some one. "Why cannot the old cor- 
 rect their faults in this way ?" They can, but they will 
 not. I recommend it exclusively to the young, not be- 
 cause it is less efficacious with others, but because others 
 will not cordially try it. The difficulty which prevent* 
 middle-aged persons going on as rapidly as the young in 
 improvement of every kind, is that they are not so easily 
 induced to make the effort. It is a mistake to suppose 
 that it is easier for a child t-o reform its character than for 
 a man, if the same efforts were made. A child is told of 
 his faults ; the politeness of society forbids mentioning 
 them to a man. A child is encouraged and urged forward 
 in efforts to improve ; the man is solitary in his resolu- 
 tions and unaided in his efforts. A child is willing to do 
 any thing. Confession is not so humiliatiijg to it ; keep- 
 ing a catalogue of its sins is not so shrunk from. If the 
 man of fifty is willing to do what the boy of fifteen does, 
 he may improve twice as fast. Some of the most re- 
 markable cases of rapid alteration and improvement of 
 character which I have ever known have been in the de- 
 cline of age. 
 
 Let me say therefore respectfully to those who may 
 chance to read this book, but who are beyond the age for 
 which it is specially intended, that we all have faults 
 which we ought to discover and attempt to mend. They 
 affect our happiness. They bring us down lower than 
 we should otherwise stand in the estimation of others. 
 Thus they impede our influence and usefulness. If we 
 would now explore and correct these, taking some such 
 thorough-going course as I have described, how rapidly 
 we should at once rise in usefulness and happiness ! In-
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 329 
 
 Conversation between the boy and his friend. 
 
 stead of that, however, we listen to moral and religious 
 instruction from the pulpit, to admire the form of its ex- 
 pression, or perhaps to fix the general principles in our 
 hearts ; but the business of exploring thoroughly our own 
 characters to ascertain their real condition, and going 
 earnestly to work upon all the detail of actual and minute 
 repair pulling down in this place, building up in that, 
 and altering in the other ah ! this is a business with 
 which, beyond twenty-five, we have but little to dof 
 
 But I must go on with my account of the means of cor- 
 recting faults, for I have one more expedient to describe. 
 I have been digressing a little to urge you to apply prac- 
 tically what I say to yourselves, and resolve to try the ex- 
 periment. This one more expedient relates to your ex- 
 posure to temptation. In regard to temptation you have 
 I think two duties. First, to avoid all great temptations ; 
 and secondly, to encounter the small ones with a deter- 
 mination, by God's blessing, to conquer them. 
 
 A boy knows, I will imagine, that he has an irritable 
 spirit ; he wishes to cure himself of it. I will suppose 
 that he has taken the two steps I have already described, 
 and now as the morning comes, and he is about to go 
 forth to the exposures of the day, we may suppose him to 
 hold the following conversation with his father, or some 
 other friend. 
 
 Boy. " I have made a great many resolutions, and I 
 am really desirous of not becoming angry and impatient 
 to-day. But I always do, and I am afraid I always shall." 
 
 Friend. " Do you always ? Do you get angry every 
 day ?" 
 
 Boy. " I do almost always ; whenever any thing hap- 
 pens to vex me." 
 
 Friend. " What are the most common things that 
 happen to vex you ?" 
 
 41 Why I almost always get angry playing marbles.
 
 330 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Great and small temptations. 
 
 George doesn't play fair, and I get angry with him, and 
 he gets angry with me." 
 
 " Do you always get angry playing marbles ?" 
 
 " We do very often." 
 
 " Then I advise you to avoid playing marbles alto- 
 gether. I know you like to play, but if you find it af- 
 fords too great a temptation for you to resist, you must 
 abandon it, or you will not cure yourself of your fault. 
 Whal other temptations do you have?" 
 
 " Why I get put out with my sums at school." 
 
 " Get put out with your sums ! What do you mean by 
 that?" 
 
 " Why I get impatient and vexed because I cannot do 
 them, and then Ijjet angry with them." 
 
 " What, with the sums /" 
 
 " Yes ; with the sums, and the book, and the slate, and 
 every thing else ; I know it is very foolish and wicked." 
 " Well ; now I advise you to take your slate and pencil 
 to-day, and find some difficult sum, such an one as you 
 have often been angry with, and sit down calmly to work, 
 and see if you cannot go through it, said fail of doing i/, 
 and yet not feel vexed and angry. Think before you be- 
 gin, how sad it is for you to be under the control of wick- 
 ed passions, and ask God to help you, and then go on ex- 
 pecting to find difficulty and endeavoring to meet it with 
 a calm and patient spirit. If you succeed in this, you 
 will really improve while you do it. By gaining one 
 victory over yourself you will make another more easy." 
 
 " Which do you think is the greatest temptation for 
 you, to play marbles or to do sums?" 
 
 " Why, I think playing marbles, because the boys don'l 
 play fair." 
 
 " Well ; now I wish you to practice the easiest lesson 
 first. Conquer yourself in your arithmetical temptation 
 first, and then perhaps you can encounter the other. And 
 I wish you would watch yourself to-day, and observe
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 331 
 
 Great and small temptations. Growing in grace. 
 
 what are the trials which are too great for you to bear, and 
 avoid them until you have acquired more moral strength. 
 But do not flee from any temptation which you think you 
 can resist. By meeting and resisting it, you will advance 
 in your course." 
 
 Now this is the case in the correction of all faults. The 
 temptations which you think you will not be successful 
 in resisting, you ought to avoid, no matter at what sacri- 
 fice ; and though you ought not to seek the trial of 'your 
 strength, yet where Providence gives you trial, go for- 
 ward to the effort which it requires with confidence in 
 his help, and with resolution to do your duty. If you 
 have the right spirit, he will help you ; and virtuous prin 
 ciple will grow by any exposure which does not over 
 power it. 
 
 I have however spoken more fully on this subject in 
 the chapter of discipline end trial, where the general ef- 
 fect of such discipline as we have here to pass through 
 was pointed out. I have here only alluded to it again, to 
 show how important an auxiliary it is in the correction of 
 particular faults. 
 
 But I must pass to the consideration of another part of 
 my subject, for the correction of absolute faults of cha- 
 racter is by no means the only, or even the most impor- 
 tant object of attention in Christian progress. The spirit 
 of piety, which is the mainspring of all these efforts in 
 the improvement of the character, is to be directly culti- 
 vated. The command " grow of grace," seems to refer to 
 this progress in the spirit of piety itself . The correction 
 of external faults, and the improvement of the character 
 in all those aspects in which intercourse between man 
 and man is concerned, will result from it. But it is itself 
 something different from these external changes. To grow 
 in grace, is to have the heart itself so changed that sin 
 shall become more and more hateful, the promotion of
 
 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 
 Unavailing efforts. The mother. 
 
 the general happiness an increasing object of interest and 
 desire, the soul more and more closely united to God, so 
 as to receive all its happiness from him. 
 
 This now is a change in the affections of the heart. Im- 
 provement in conduct will result from it, but it is in itself 
 essentially different from right conduct. It is the/own- 
 tain, from which good actions are the streams. I wish 
 therefore that every one of my readers would now turn 
 his attention to this subject, and inquire with me, by what 
 means he may grow most rapidly in attachment to the 
 Savior, and in hatred of sin. A very unwise and ineffec- 
 tual kind of effort is very often made, which I shall first de- 
 scribe, and then proceed to describe the means which may 
 be successful in drawing the heart closer and closer to 
 Jehovah. 
 
 To illustrate the unavailing efforts which are some- 
 times made to awaken in the heart a deeper and deeper 
 interest in piety, I will suppose a case, and it is a case 
 which is exceedingly common. A professing Christian r 
 and, to make the case more definite, I will suppose the 
 individual to be the mother of a family feels that she 
 does not love God as she ought, and she is consequently 
 unhappy. She is aware that her affections are placed too 
 strongly, perhaps, upon her family her children. She 
 knows that she is a wanderer from her Savior, and feela 
 at all times, when she thinks of religious duty, a settled 
 uneasiness which mars many of her enjoyments, and often 
 saddens her heart. Now, what does she do to remedy this 
 difficulty ? Why, when the week is past, and her hour of 
 prayer on the Sabbath has arrived, she thinks a little of her 
 cold and wayward condition, and tries, by direct effort, to 
 arouse in her heart feelings of penitence and love. But 
 she tries in vain. I acknowledge that she is very guilty 
 in being in such a state, but if she is so, her direct efforts 
 to feel will be vain. She will have, for an hour, a weary 
 and melancholy struggle the Sabbath will pass away,
 
 Ch. ll.J PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 333 
 
 The man of business. The dejected Christian. 
 
 rendered gloomy by her condition and her reflections 
 and Monday morning will come, with its worldly cares 
 and enjoyments, to drift her still further away from God 
 and from happiness. 
 
 A man of business, engrossed in the management of 
 his prosperous affairs, knows that he is not living to God. 
 And yet he is a member of a Christian church ; he has 
 solemnly consecrated himself to the Savior ; and when he 
 thinks of it, he really wishes that his heart was in a dif- 
 ferent state. The world however holds him from day to 
 day, and the only thing which he does to save himself 
 from wandering to a returnless distance from God, is to 
 strive a little, morning and evening, at his short period 
 of secret devotion, to feel his sins. He makes direct ef- 
 fort to urge his heart to gratitude. He perhaps kneels 
 before the throne of God, and knowing how little hove for 
 God he really feels, he exerts every nerve to bring his heart 
 to exercise more. He is trying to control his affections 
 by direct effort and he probably fails. He is striving 
 in vain. He soon becomes discouraged, and yields him- 
 self again to the current which is bearing him away from 
 holiness and peace. 
 
 I once knew a young man and while I describe his 
 case, it is possible that there may be many of the readers 
 of this chapter who will say his case is like theirs who 
 had a faint hope that he was a Christian ; but his peni- 
 tence was in his opinion so feeble and heartless, his lo-ve 
 to God was so cold, and his spark of grace, if there was 
 any in his heart, was so faint and languishing, that he 
 scarcely dared to hope. He did not therefore take the 
 stand, or perform the duties of a Christian. He thought 
 he must make more progress himself in piety before he 
 endeavored to do any good to others; he was accordingly 
 attempting to make this progress ; he struggled with his 
 own heart, to awaken stronger love and deeper penitence
 
 334 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Direct efforts. 
 
 there ; but it was a sad and almost fruitless struggle ; he 
 became dejected and desponding ; he thought his heart 
 was still cold and hardened in sin, and that religious feel- 
 ing would not come at his bidding; and he continued for 
 a long time unhappy himself and useless to others. 
 
 The principle which I have been designing to illus- 
 trate by these cases is, that the best way to improve or 
 alter the affections of the heart, is not by direct efforts up 
 on the heart itself. The degree of power which man has 
 directly over the affections of the heart is very limited. 
 A mere theorist will say he must have entire control over 
 them, or they cannot be blameworthy or praiseworthy. 
 But no one but the mere theorist will say this. A bene- 
 volent man, during an inclement season, sends fuel to a 
 destitute and suffering family, and perhaps goes himself 
 to visit and to cheer the sick one there. Does not he take 
 ii great pleasure in thus relieving misery, and is not this 
 benevolent feeling praiseworthy? And yet it is not un- 
 der his direct control, he cannot possibly help taking 
 pleasure in relieving suffering, Suppose I were to say 
 to him, " Sir, just to try a philosophical experiment, will 
 you now alter your heart, so as to be glad to know that 
 people are suffering. I will tell you the facts about a 
 child which perished with the cold ; and while I do it, 
 will you so alter your heart (which must be entirely un- 
 der your control, or else its emotions cannot be praise- 
 worthy or blameworthy) as to delight in that cruel suf- 
 fering?" How absurd would this be ! The man must be 
 pained to hear of sufferings which he cannot help, and yet 
 sympathy with the sorrows of others is praiseworthy. 
 
 Again, sister and sister have become alienated from 
 each other. The feeling which was at first coldness has 
 become dislike; and now they are satisfied tnat they whom 
 God has placed so near together ought to be sunder- 
 ed in heart. Suppose the parent were to say to them, *' I 
 know you can love each other, and you ought to love
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. JJ36 
 
 Freedom of feeling and freedom of action. 
 
 each other, and I command you immediately to do it." 
 They may fear parental displeasure, they may know that 
 they should be happier if they were united in heart ; but 
 will affection come at once at their call ? 
 
 The entire free agency of man, by which is meant his 
 freedom from all external restraint in his conduct, can- 
 not be asserted too frequently, or kept too distinctly in 
 the view of every human being. There is such a thing 
 however as presenting this subject in such a light as to 
 lead the mind to the erroneous idea that all the affections 
 of the heart are in the same sense under the control of 
 the will as the motions of the body are. I do not mean 
 that any respectable writer or preacher will advocate 
 such a view, but only that in expressing his belief in 
 human freedom, in sweeping and unqualified terms, lie 
 may unintentionally convey the impression. There is 
 unquestionably a very essential difference between a 
 man's freedom of feeling and his freedom of acting, A 
 man may be induced to act by a great variety of means, 
 a motive of any kind, if strong enough, will be sufficient. 
 Suppose, for instance, a sea-captain wishes to induce a 
 rnan to leap off from the deck of his ship into the sea ; he 
 may attempt in a great >r.<iny ways to obtain his object. 
 He may command him to do it, and threaten punishment 
 if lie disobeys ; he may try to hire him to do it ; he may 
 show the sailor that his little son has fallen overboard, 
 and thus induce the parent to risk his life that he may 
 save that of his child. He may thus in various ways ap- 
 peal to very different feelings of the human heart love 
 of money, fear, or parental affection and if by either of 
 these, the volition, as metaphysicians term it, i. e. the 
 determination, can be formed, the man goes overboard 
 in a moment. He can do any thing which, from any 
 motive whatever, he resolves to do. 
 
 In regard however to the feelings of the heart, it is far 
 different. Though man is equally a free agent in regard
 
 330 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 
 
 .. 
 
 Illustration. 
 
 to these, it is in quite a different way ; that is, the feelings 
 of the heart are not to be managed and controlled by 
 simple determinations ; as this external conduct may 
 be. Suppose, for instance, the captain wished that sailor 
 to be grateful for some favor he had received, and of 
 which he had been entirely regardless ; and suppose lie 
 should command him to be grateful, and threaten him 
 with some punishment if he should refuse ; or suppose he 
 should endeavor to hire him to be grateful, or should try 
 to persuade him to be thankful for past favors in order 
 to get more. It would be absurd. Gratitude, like any 
 other feeling of the heart, though it is of a moral nature, 
 and though man is perfectly free in exercising it, will not 
 always come whenever the man determines to bring it. 
 The external conduct is thus controlled by the determi- 
 nation of the mind, on whatever motives those determi- 
 nations may be founded, but the feelings and affections of 
 the heart are under no such direct control. 
 
 There is certainly, for all practical purposes, a great 
 distinction between the heart and the conduct between 
 the moral condition of the soul and those specific acts 
 which arise from it. Two children, a dutiful and a diso- 
 bedient one, are walking together in a beautiful garden, 
 and suddenly the gardener tells them that their father 
 did not wish them to walk there. Now, how different 
 will be the effect which this annunciation will make 
 upon them ! The one will immediately obey, leaving 
 with alacrity the place which his father did not wish him 
 to pass. The other will linger and make excuses, or 
 perhaps altogether disobey. Just before they received 
 the communication they were perhaps not thinking of 
 their father at all ; but though their minds were acting on 
 other subjects, they possessed distinct and opposite cha- 
 racters as sons, characters which rendered it probable that 
 one would comply with his father's wishes as soon as 
 those wishes should be known, and that the other would
 
 Oil. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 337 
 
 Metaphysical controversy. Story of the Duke of Gloucester. 
 
 not. So in all other cases ; a dishonest man is dishonest 
 in character when he is not actually stealing, and a hum- 
 ble and devoted Christian will have his heart in a right 
 state even when he is entirely engrossed in some intel- 
 lectual pursuit, or involved in the perplexities of busi- 
 ness. 
 
 I am aware that, among metaphysical philosophers, 
 there is a controversy on the question whether all which 
 is of a moral nature, i. e. which is blameworthy or praise- 
 worthy, may not be shown to be specific, voluntary acts 
 of the moral being. Into this question I do not intend 
 to enter at all ; for if what is commonly called character, 
 in contradistinction from conduct, may be resolved into 
 voluntary acts, it is certainly to be done only by a nice 
 metaphysical analysis, which common Christians cannot 
 be expected to follow. 
 
 To illustrate the nature of this subject, i. e. the dis- 
 tinction, for all practical purposes, between character 
 and conduct, I must give the following narrative, which 
 I take from Hume, with some alterations of form to make 
 it more intelligible in this connection. 
 
 In early periods of the English history, Richard, duke 
 of Gloucester, an intriguing and ambitious man, formed 
 the design of usurping the throne. The former king had 
 left several children, who were the proper heirs to the 
 crown. They were however young, and Richard gained 
 possession of the government, ostensibly that he mighi 
 manage it until they were of age, when he was to surren- 
 der it to them again but really with the design of put- 
 ting them and all their influential friends to death, and 
 thus usurping the throne. 
 
 One of the most powerful and faithful friends of tho 
 young princes was Lord Hastings, and the following is 
 the account which Hume gives of the manner in which 
 he was murdered by Richard. 
 
 15
 
 838 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Richard's artful plan. 
 
 "The duke of Gloucester knowing the importance of 
 gaining Lord Hastings, sounded at a distance his senti- 
 ments by means of a lawyer who lived in great intimacy 
 with that nobleman ; but found him impregnable in his 
 allegiance and fidelity to the children of Edward, who 
 had e'/er honored him with his friendship. He saw there- 
 fore, that there were no longer any measures to be kept 
 with him ; and he determined to ruin utterly the man 
 whom he despaired of engaging to concur in his usurpa- 
 tion. Accordingly, at a certain day, he summoned a coun- 
 cil in the Tower, whither Lord Hastings, suspecting no 
 design against him, repaired without hesitation. The 
 duke of Gloucester was capable of committing the mosl 
 bloody and treacherous murders with the utmost coolness 
 and indifference. On taking his place at the council table, 
 he appeared in the easiest and most jovial humor imagina- 
 ble ; he seemed to indulge himself in familiar conversa- 
 tion with the counsellors before they should enter on 
 business; and having paid some compliments to one of 
 them, on the good and early strawberries which he raised 
 in his garden, he begged the favor of having a dish of 
 them. A servant was immediately despatched to bring 
 them to him. Richard then left the council, as if called 
 away by some other business : but soon after returning-, 
 with an angry and inflamed countenance he asked them, 
 
 " What punishment do those deserve that have plotted 
 against my life, who am so nearly related to the king, and 
 arn entrusted with the administration of government?" 
 Hastings replied that they merited the punishment of 
 traitors. " These traitors," then cried the protector, 
 *' are the sorceress, my brother's wife, and Jane Shore, his 
 mistress, with others their associates : see to what a con- 
 dition they have reduced me by their incantations and 
 witchcraft." As he said this, he laid bare his arm, all 
 shrivelled and decayed; but the counsellors, who knew 
 that this infirmity had attended him from his birth, looked 
 
 -
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 33D 
 
 Violent measures. 
 
 on each other with amazement ; Lord Hastings began to 
 be alarmed : 
 
 " ' Certainly, my lord,' said he, * if they be guilty of 
 these crimes they deserve the severest punishment.' 
 
 " ' And do you reply to me,' exclaimed Richard, with 
 your ifs and your ands ? You are the chief abettor of that 
 witch Shore ! You are yourself a traitor : and by St. 
 Paul I will not dine before your head be brought me.* 
 
 " He struck the table with his hand : armed men rushed 
 in at the signal : the counsellors were thrown into the 
 utmost consternation : and one of the guards, as if by ac- 
 cident or a mistake, aimed a blow with a poll-ax at one 
 of the lords, named Stanley, who, aware of the danger, 
 slunk under the table ; and though he saved his life, receiv- 
 ed a severe wound in the head in Richard's presence. 
 Hastings was seized, was hurried away, and instantly be- 
 headed on a timber log which lay in the court of the Tow- 
 er. Two hours after, a proclamation, so well penned anil 
 fairly written, that it must have been prepared before, was 
 read to the citizens of London, enumerating his offences, 
 and apologizing to them, from the suddenness of the dis- 
 covery, for the sudden execution of that nobleman, who 
 was very popular among them." 
 
 After this act of violence Richard went forward with 
 his plans until he attained complete ultimate success. He 
 caused the unhappy young princes whose claims were 
 between him and the throne, to be confined in the Tower, 
 a famous castle and prison on the banks of the Thames, 
 in the lower part of London. He then sent orders to 
 the constable of the Tower to put his innocent and help, 
 less victims to death. The officer declined performing 
 so infamous an act. He then ordered the constable to 
 give up, for one night, the command of the Tower to an- 
 other man. He did so, and the duke sent Sir James 
 Tyrrel, who promised to see that his cruel orders vrere
 
 340 YOUNG cttRisrrAN. [Ch If, 
 
 Murder of the boys. Analysis of the story. 
 
 executed. But even Tyrrel was not savage enough to 
 execute them with his own hand ; he had not the hardi- 
 hood even to look on while it was done. He accordingly 
 employed three ruffians, whose names were Slater, Ligh- 
 ton, and Forrest, who came in the night time to the door 
 of the chamber in the Tower where the poor boys were 
 confined. The murderers found them sleeping quietly in 
 their beds. They killed them by suffocating them with 
 the bolster and pillows, and then showed the dead bodies 
 to Tyrrel, that fie might assure Richard that they were no 
 more. The ambitious and erucl duke became, by these 
 means, Richard HI. king of England. 
 
 Now, in reviewing this story, and a hundred others 
 might have easily been found which would have answered 
 the purposes of this illustration just as well, we see that 
 the guilt which it discloses may be easily analyzed into 
 three distinct portions. I mean they are distinct for all 
 popular and practical purposes. A nice metaphysical 
 investigation may or may not, I shall not here consider 
 which, reduce them again to the same. 
 
 . 1. The external acts. I mean the rushing in of armed 
 men at the table the wounding of Lord Stanley the 
 beheading of Lord Hastings the reading of the false 
 proclamation and the murder of the children in their 
 bed. These deeds were not performed by Richard him- 
 self; he hired others to perpetrate these crimes, and he 
 had not himself, directly, any thing to do with them. It 
 may be difficult to find, in the whole story, any one ex- 
 ternal act which Richard did which was wrong. 
 
 2. The internal acts or determinations of mind. That 
 is, the plans which Richard formed and the wicked reso- 
 lutions which he came to. He must, for example, at one 
 time have hesitated whether he should have Hastings 
 murdered or not. He weighed the difficulties and dan- 
 gers on the one side, and the advantages to his cause on 
 the other, and at last he resolved to do it. This was a
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 341 
 
 Richard's wicked character. Sense in which character is voluntary. 
 
 mental act. In the same manner the determination tr* 
 have the princes murdered was an act of his mind. It 
 was savage and abominable in the extreme, but what I 
 wish to have particularly noticed in it is, that it was a 
 voluntary act. He deliberated about it, and then he vo- 
 luntarily resolved upon it. His whole conduct through- 
 out this business is a series of most wicked mental acts, 
 which he deliberately performed, and for which he was 
 guilty, though he contrived to put ofF the external deeds 
 of violence to the hands of others. 
 
 3. The ambitious and cruel heart which instigate 
 these acts. Washington would not have done such things. 
 King Alfred would not have done them. No. Richard had, 
 by a distinction which, for all the practical purposes of 
 life, will always be made, a savage and an unprincipled 
 character*, without which he would not have doi>e such 
 things. Another man, when hesitating whether to mur- 
 der two innocent boys, in order to prepare a way for him- 
 self to a throne, would hav found principles of compas- 
 sion and of justice coming up, he knows not how or whi- 
 ther, but still coming up to arrest his hand. Richard 
 had nothing of this sort. He was ambitious, and sangui- 
 nary, and unrelenting in character as well as in conduct. 
 Before he performed any of these mental acts, i. e. came 
 to those wicked determinations named under the second 
 head, he had a heart which fitted him exactly for them. 
 
 It is evident too, and this is a point of the greatest im- 
 portance, that this cruel and ambitious disposi; ion, which 
 was the origin of all his wicked plans, is not voluntary 
 in the same sense as the plans themselves are. In regard 
 to his positive determinations to have the children mur- 
 dered, for -example, he deliberated, and then volunta- 
 rily decided upon it. But who supposes that he ever 
 deliberated, while he was carrying forward his schemes, 
 whether he would be a cruel or a merciful man, and de- 
 cided U>on the former? When he awoke each morning, 

 
 342 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Distinction between character and conduct. 
 
 he undoubtedly thought about the coming day, and formed 
 his designs. lie said to himself. " I will do this, or 1 will 
 stop that. I will have this man killed to-day, or I will ba- 
 nish that man." But who imagines that, every morning, 
 he considered and decided whether he should be virtuous 
 01 vicious that day in heart ? Who can suppose that he 
 formed such resolutions as these : " I will be a cruel man 
 to-day ; 1 will have no principle and no compassion for 
 others, but will delight only in my own ambition?" No. He 
 was cruel, and ambitious, and sanguinary, without deter- 
 mining to be so ; for the question, what general character 
 he should cherish, probably never came up. All that he 
 deliberated and decided upon unquestionably was, by what 
 specific plans he should gratify the impulses of his wicked 
 heart. He determined upon these plans, but he did not 
 determine upon the impulses. He would sometimes re- 
 solve to plan the destruction of an enemy, or to take cer- 
 tain steps which should lead him to the throne ; but he 
 never said to himself, " Now I will awaken in myself an 
 impulse of cruelty ; now I will call up into my heart un- 
 governable ambition and love of power." No. These feel- 
 ings reigned in his heart from day to day, without any 
 direct effort on his part to keep them there. How they 
 came, and why they remained, it is not my present pur- 
 pose to inquire. All I mc-an here to insist upon is, that 
 they arc not, like the plans of iniquity he formed, the re- 
 sult of direct choice and determination, and consequently 
 not voluntary, in the same sense in which these plans 
 themselves are the result of direct volition. 
 
 It may be said that this wicked state of heart was the 
 result of previous bad conduct, which had formed a ha- 
 bit of sin ; and perhaps it was. I am not trying to account 
 for it, but only to bring it to view. I am simply endea- 
 voring to show there is, independently of the conduct, 
 whether external or internal acts are meant by that term, 
 a state of heart from which that conduct flows.
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 343 
 
 Moral obligation. Importance of it. 
 
 Such considerations as these, and many others which 
 might be introduced if necessary, plainly show that man's 
 moral feelings are far less under his direct control than 
 his intellectual or his bodily powers. He may try to lift 
 a weight he may try to run, to think, or to understand 
 and he will probably succeed ; but it is hard to love or 
 to hate by merely trying to. But after stating thus and 
 illustrating this principle, there is one sentence which 
 I ought to write in capitals, and express with the strong- 
 est emphasis in my power. The heart is not independent 
 of our control to such a degree as to free us from moral 
 obligation and accountability. We are most unquestion- 
 ably free in the exercise of every good and of every evil 
 feeling of the heart, and we are plainly accountable for 
 them most fully, though we may not have exerted a di- 
 rect determination or volition to bring them into being. 
 
 But is there any practical advantage, it may be asked, 
 in drawing this distinction between the heart and the con- 
 duct? There is a great practical advantage, otherwise I 
 should by no means have taken so much pains to exhibit 
 it ; for although the intellectual effort which is necessary 
 on the part of the reader in going into such a discussion 
 is of great advantage, I should not have entered upon it 
 with that object alone. I design to introduce nothing into 
 this book but what will be of practical utility. 
 
 It is then practically important that we should all un- 
 derstand, not only that our conduct by which I mean 
 our atts, whether internal or external is wrong ; but also 
 that we have within us evil hearts, inclining us to go 
 nstray ; and that this evil heart itself is distinct from the 
 going astray which results from it. A clear conception of 
 this is the only safeguard against that self-sufficiency 
 which is destructive of all religious progress. "The 
 heart," says the Scriptures, "is deceitful above all things, 
 and desperately wicked !" The power which created it, 
 alone can change its tendencies, so as to make it as easy
 
 344 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Ways of influencing the character. Effects of Christian knowledge. 
 
 and as natural for us to do right as it is now to do wrong. 
 To this power we must look. We must look to God too 
 with a feeling of distrust of ourselves, and a conviction 
 that help can come only from him. " O wretched man 
 that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this 
 death ?" Yes, free as man is, and fully and entirely ac- 
 countable as he is for all his conduct, there is a sense in 
 which he is a miserable slave to sin, in wretched bondage 
 to a tyrant, from whose chains no struggles of his own 
 will ever set him free. When he realizes this, and feels 
 humbled and powerless, and utterly dependant upon di- 
 vine grace, then God is ready to come into his soul to pu- 
 rify and to save him. 
 
 In thus discussing this subject here, it has not been my 
 intention to go metaphysically into the subject of the na- 
 ture of moral agency. My design has only been to show 
 to Christians, that the feelings of penitence for sin and 
 ardent love to the Savior, are not feelings which they are 
 to bring to their hearts by struggling directly to intro- 
 duce them. You cannot be penitent by simply trying to 
 be penitent. You cannot hate sin or love God more 
 sincerely than you do, by simply trying to feel thus. 
 The heart is to be molded and guided in other ways. 
 
 Some of these ways by which the heart is to be led 
 more and more to God, I shall describe. 
 
 1. By acquiring true knowledge. If you are a Chris- 
 tian at all, your piety will be increased and strengthened 
 by bringing often before your mind those truths which 
 show the necessity of piety. Instead of struggling di- 
 rectly to bring penitence to your heart by an effort of 
 the will, spend a part of your little season of retirement 
 in reflecting on the consequences of sin. Look around 
 you and see how many families it has made miserable, 
 how many hearts it has desolated ! Think of the power 
 it has had in ruining the world in which we live, and how 
 dreadful would be its ravages if God should permit it to
 
 Ch. 11.} I'EfcSOSlAI, tlftFROVE'SEM'r. 
 
 The mother. The child. 
 
 have its way among all his creatures. Reflect how it has 
 destroyed your own peace of mind, injured your useful- 
 ness, brought a stain upon the Christian name. Reflect 
 upon such subjects as these, so as to increase th-e vivid- 
 ness of your knowledge and though you make no effort 
 to feel penitence, even if you do not think of penitence 
 at all, it will rise in your heart if there is any grace there, 
 You cannot look upon the consequences of sin without re*- 
 f>cnting that you have ever assisted to procure th-em. Peter 
 did not repent of his treachery by trying- to feel sorry.. 
 The Lord turned and looked upon Peter ; that look 
 brought with it recollections. He saw clearly his rela- 
 tion to his Savior, and the ingratitude of his denial. 
 
 It is so with all the other emotions of piety. You will 
 not succeed in loving God supremely by simply making 
 the efibrt to do so. Look at his goodness and mercy to 
 you ; see it in the thousand forms in which it shines upon 
 you. Do not dwell upon it in generals, but tome to mi*- 
 nute particulars, and whether old or young, and whatever 
 may be the circumstances of your lives, reflect carefully 
 upon God's kind dealings with you. Are you a mother ? 
 as you hold your infant upon your knee, or observe 
 its playful brothers and sisters in health and happiness 
 around you, consider a moment by whose goodness they 
 were given to you, and by whose mercy they are daily 
 spared. Are you a child ? look upon the comforts, and 
 privileges, and the sources of happiness which God has 
 given you and while you view them, remember that every 
 week there are multitudes of children around you suffering 
 from cold, from hunger, from neglect, or who are sum- 
 moned to an early grave. I have stood at the bedside of 
 a child who was, a fornight before, in her class at the Sab- 
 bath School, and seen her sink from day to day under 
 the grasp of sickness and pain, until her reason failed and 
 her strength was gone, and at last she slumbered in death. 
 A few days afterward she was deposited, in the depth of
 
 346 VOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Ctl. 11. 
 
 Gratitude. Christian action. 
 
 winter, in her cold grave. Blustering storms and wintry 
 tempests do not indeed disturb the repose of the tomb, 
 but when you are sitting in health and happiness at your 
 own cheerful fireside, and hear the howling winds which 
 sweep around you or in a more genial season feel the 
 warm breath of spring upon your healthful cheek can 
 you think of the thousand cases like the one I have al- 
 luded to, and not feel grateful to your kind protector 1 If 
 your heart is not entirely unrenewed, (and I am speaking 
 now to Christians,) these affections will be warmly awak- 
 ened while you reflect upon God's goodness, and thus 
 learn how much you are indebted to him. 
 
 It is thus with other feelings, they are to come to the 
 heart, not by the direct effort to bring them there, but by 
 bringing to view the truths which are calculated to awaken 
 them. If your heart is right toward God in any degree, 
 the presentation of these truths will awaken penitence 
 and love ; and the more knowledge you acquire in re- 
 gard to your relations to your Maker and his dealings 
 with you, the more rapid will be your growth in grace. 
 
 2. The second means of growing in grace is Christian 
 action. Faith will not only show itself by works, but 
 works will increase faith. Let a man make an effort to 
 relieve a sufferer, and he becomes more and more inte- 
 rested for him. He first sends him a little food, or a little 
 fire, when he is sick, and he finds that this does good ; it 
 relieves the pressure, and brings cheering and encourage- 
 ment to the family, before just ready to despair. The 
 benefactor then, becoming more interested in the case, 
 sends a physician ; and when the patient is cured, he pro- 
 cures business for him ; and goes on from step to step, 
 until perhaps at last he feels a greater interest in that one 
 case than in all the suffering poor of the town beside. It 
 all began by his simply sending a little wood, which was, 
 perhaps, almost accidental, or at least prompted by a very 
 elight benevolent feeling. This feeling has, however,
 
 Ol. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 3H 
 
 Why Howard became interested for prisoners. Paul. 
 
 increased to a strong and steady principle; and to what 
 is its increase owing ? simply to his benevolent effort, 
 
 I have already once or twice alluded to the benevolent 
 Howard, who went through Europe, visiting the prisons, 
 that he might learn the condition of their unhappy 
 tenants and relieve their sufferings. And how was it that 
 he became so much interested in prisoners? It devolved 
 upon him, in the discharge of some public duty in his own 
 county in England, to do something for the relief of pri- 
 soners there and the moment he begin to do something- 
 for the prisoners, that moment lie began to love them ; 
 and the more he did for them, thr more strongly he was 
 attached to their cause. 
 
 The Apostle Paul is one of the most striking examples 
 of the power of Christian effort to promote Christian 
 love. He gave himself wholly to his work, aud the con- 
 sequence was, he became completely identified with it. 
 He loved it better than he did life, and the strongest ex- 
 pressions of attachment to the Savior which the Bible 
 contains, arc to be found in the language he uses when 
 he was drawing toward the close of his labors upon earth. 
 
 If we then would grow in attachment to our Savior, we 
 must do something' for him. But notice it is not the 
 mere external act which will promote your growth in 
 piety ; the act must be performed, in some degree at least, 
 from Christian principle. You can all p-ut this method 
 immediately to the test. Think of something which you 
 can do by which you will be co-operating with God. The 
 design of God is to relieve suffering and promote happi- 
 ness wherever there is opportunity; and as sin is the 
 greatest obstacle in the way, he directs his first and chief 
 efforts to the removal of sin. Now endeavor to find 
 something which you can do, by which sin can be remov- 
 ed or suffering alleviated, and go forth to the work feel- 
 ing that you are co-operating with your Savior in his 
 great and benevolent plans. Perhaps you will find an
 
 349 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11 
 
 Dependence upon the Holy Spirit. An evil heart. 
 
 opportunity in your own family or perhaps in your 
 neighborhood ; but wherever it is done, if you go forth to 
 the duty under the influence of attachment to the Savior and 
 love to men, these feelings will certainly be increased by 
 the effort. You will feel, while you do it, that you are a 
 co-worker with God that you are as it were making com- 
 mon cause with him, and the bonds by which you were 
 before only loosely bound to him are strengthened. 
 
 Go forward then efficiently in doing good ; set your 
 hearts upon it. If you feel that you have but little love 
 to God, bring that little into exercise, and it will grow. 
 
 3. The last of the means of growing in grace which 1 
 shall now mention, is a humble sense of dependence on 
 the influences of the Holy Spirit, and sincere prayer 
 lor those influences. I freely acknowledge the difficulty 
 which this subject presents. If we attempt to form any 
 theory by which we can clearly comprehend how ac- 
 countability can rest upon a soul which is still dependent 
 upon a higher power for all that is good, we shall only 
 plunge ourselves in endless perplexity. We know that 
 we are accountable for all our feelings, as well as for our 
 words and deeds, and at the same time we know that 
 those feelings within us which reason and conscience 
 condemn, will come, unless the Holy Spirit saves us from 
 being their prey. How emphatically does the language 
 of Paul describe this our melancholy subjection to this 
 law of sin ! 
 
 " For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) dwelleth 
 no good thing : for to will is present with me ; but how 
 to perform that which is good, I find not. For the good 
 that 1 would, I do not : but the evil which I would not, 
 that I do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I 
 that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. I find then a law, 
 that when I would do good, evil is present with me. For 
 [ delight in the law of God, after the inward man. But 
 I sec another law in my members warring against the law
 
 CIl. ll.J PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 349 
 
 An evil heart. Divine influence necessary. 
 
 of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of 
 sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am ! 
 who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?" 
 
 The conclusion to which he comes in the next verse is 
 the right one, that God will deliver us through Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. We must feel then humbly dependent 
 on an influence from above. Let us come daily to our 
 Father in heaven, praying him to draw us to the Savior ; 
 we shall not come unless he draws us. Let us feel depen- 
 dent every day for a fresh supply of divine grace to keep 
 these hearts in a proper frame. It is not enough to ex- 
 press this feeling in our morning prayer ; we must carry 
 it with us into all the circumstances of the day. When 
 we are going into temptation we must say, " Lord, hold 
 tliou me up and then I shall be safe," and we must say 
 it with a feeling of entire moral dependence on God. 
 
 Nor need we fear that this sense of dependence onGod will 
 impair our sense of personal guilt, when we wilfully sin 
 against him. I do not attempt to present any theory by 
 which the two may be shown to be compatible with each 
 other. We cannot easily understand the theory, but we 
 feel and know that both are true. We all know that we 
 are guilty for living in sin ; and we feel and know that 
 our hearts do not change, simply by our determining that 
 they shall. Since then the two truths are clear, let us 
 cordially admit them both. Let us in the spirit of humil- 
 ity, and entire trust in God's word, believe our Maker 
 when he says, that he has mercy on whom he will have 
 mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth. Let us believe 
 this cordially, however difficult it may be to understand 
 what can, in such a case, be the guilt of the hardened 
 one : and applying the declaration to our own case, let 
 us come before him praying that he will turn our hearts 
 to holiness and at the same time let us see and feel our 
 guilt in neglecting duty and disobeying God as we do. 
 
 This feeling of entire dependence on the Holy Spirit
 
 350 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [CH. 11. 
 
 Intellectual improvement. A finished education. 
 
 for moral progress is the safest and happiest feeling 
 which the Christian can cherish. Such weakness and 
 helplessness as ours loves protection, and if we can fully 
 make up our minds that there is a difficulty in this sub- 
 ject beyond our present powers to surmount, we can 
 feel fully our own moral responsibility, and at the same 
 time know that our dearest moral interests are in God's 
 care. This feeling is committing our souls to our Savior's 
 keeping and care. Were our hearts entirely under our 
 own direct control, independent of God, we, and we only, 
 could be their keepers ; but if we have given our hearts 
 to him, God has promised to keep us by his power. He 
 is able to keep us. He has control, after all, in our hearts ; 
 and if we are willing to put our trust in him, he will keep 
 us from falling, and present us at last faultless before the 
 throne of his glory with exceeding joy. 
 
 II. INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 It may perhaps seem strange that I should discuss the 
 subject of intellectual progress in a book devoted to an 
 explanation and enforcement of the principles of piety. I 
 should not do this were I not firmly persuaded that a regu- 
 lar and uninterrupted intellectual progress is a duty which 
 is peculiarly binding upon the Christian. Let the reader 
 reflect a moment, that those intellectual powers which 
 God has given him are intended to exist for ever, and 
 that if he shall be prepared at death to enter the world of 
 happiness, they will go on expanding for ever, adding 
 not only to his means, but to his capacities of enjoyment. 
 
 The great mass of mankind consider the intellectual 
 powers as susceptible of a certain degree of develope- 
 ment in childhood, to prepare the individual for the ac- 
 tive duties of life. This degree of progress they suppose 
 to be made before the age of twenty is attained, and 
 hence they talk of an education being finished ! Now, if
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 351 
 
 Oliject ol education. 
 
 a parent wishes to convey the idea that his daughter has 
 closed her studies at school, or that his son has finished 
 his preparatory professional course, and is ready to com- 
 mence practice, there is perhaps no strong objection to 
 his using the common phrase, that the education is finish- 
 ed ; but in any general or proper use of language, there 
 is no such thing as a finished education. The most suc- 
 cessful student that ever left a school, or took his degree 
 at college, never arrived at a good place to stop in his in- 
 tellectual course. In fact, the farther he goes the moro 
 desirous will he feel to go on ; and if you wish to find 
 an instance of the greatest eagerness and interest with 
 which the pursuit of knowledge is prosecuted, you will 
 find it undoubtedly in the case of the most accomplished 
 and thorough scholar which the country can furnish, who 
 has spent a long life in study, and who finds that the far- 
 ther he goes the more and more widely does the bound- 
 less field of intelligence open before him. 
 
 Give up then, at once, all idea of finishing your edu- 
 cation. The sole object of the course of discipline at 
 any literary institution in our land is not to finish, but 
 just to show you how to begin; to give you an impulse 
 and a direction upon that course which you ought to pur- 
 sue with unabated and uninterrupted ardor as long as you 
 have being. 
 
 It is unquestionably true, that every person, whatever 
 are his circumstances or condition in life, ought at all 
 times to be making some steady efforts to enlarge his 
 stock of knowledge, to increase his mental powers, and 
 thus to expand the field of his intellectual vision. I sup- 
 pose most of my readers are convinced of this, and are 
 desirous, if the way can only be distinctly pointed out, 
 of making such efforts. In fact, no inquiry is more fre- 
 quently made by intelligent young persons than this : 
 " What course of reading shall I pursue? What books shall
 
 352 crNo CHRISTIAN* [Cli. 11. 
 
 1. To strengthen the powers. 
 
 I select, and what plan in reading them shall I adopt?' 
 These inquiries I now propose to answer. 
 
 The objects of study are of several kinds ; some of the 
 most important I shall enumerate. * 
 
 1. To increase our intellectual powers. Every one 
 knows that there is a difference of ability in different 
 minds, but it is not so distinctly understood that every 
 one's abilities may be increased or strengthened by a 
 kind of culture adapted expressly to this purpose ; I 
 mean a culture which is intended not to add to the stock of 
 knowledge, but only to increase intellectual power. Sup- 
 pose, for example, that when Robinson Crusoe on his de* 
 solate island had first found Friday the savage, he had 
 said to himself as follows : 
 
 " This man looks wild and barbarous enough ; he is to 
 stay with me and help me in my various plans, but he 
 could help me much more effectually if he was more of 
 an intellectual being and less of a mere animal. Now I 
 can increase his intellectual power by culture, and I will. 
 But what shall I teach him ?" 
 
 On reflecting a little farther upon the subject, he would 
 say to himself as follows : 
 
 " I must not always teach him things necessary for him 
 to know in order to assist me in my work, but I must try 
 to teach him to think for himself. Then he will be far 
 more valuable as a servant, than if he has to depend upon 
 me for every thing he does." 
 
 Accordingly some evening when the two, master and 
 man, have finished the labors of the day, Robinson is 
 walking upon the sandy beach, with the wild savage by 
 his side, and he concludes to give him his first lesson in 
 mathematics. He picks up a slender and pointed shell, 
 and with it draws carefully a circle upon the sand. 
 
 " What is that ?" says Friday. 
 
 "It is what we call a circle, says Robinson." "I want
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 353 
 
 Robinson Crusoe's supposed experiment with Friday. 
 
 you now to come and stand here, and attentively consi 
 der what I am going to tell you about it." 
 
 Now Friday has, we will suppose, never given his se- 
 rious attention to any thing, or rather he has never made 
 a serious mental effort upon any subject for five minutes 
 at a time in his life. The simplest mathematical princi- 
 ple is a complete labyrinth of perplexity to him. He 
 con.es up and looks at the smooth and beautiful curve 
 '.vhich his master has drawn in the sand with a gaze of 
 stupid amazement. 
 
 " Now listen carefully to what I say," says Robinson, 
 " and see if you can understand it. Do you see this little 
 point I make in the middle of the circle?" 
 
 Friday says he does, and wonders what is to come from 
 the magic character which he sees before him. 
 
 " This," Continues Robinson, " is a circle, and that 
 point is the centre. Now, if I draw lines from the centre 
 in any direction to the outside, these lines will all be 
 equal." 
 
 So saying, he draws several lines. He sets Friday to 
 measuring them. Friday sees that they are equal, and is 
 pleased, from two distinct causes ; one, that he has suc- 
 cessfully exercised his thinking powers, and the other, that 
 he has learned something which he never knew before. 
 
 I wish now that the reader would understand that Ro- 
 binson does not take this course with Friday because he 
 wishes him to understand the nature of the circle. Sup- 
 pose we were to say to him, " "Why did you choose such 
 a lesson as that for your savage? You can teach him 
 much more useful things than the properties of the cir- 
 cle. What good will it do him to know how to make 
 circles ? Do you expect him to draw geometrical diagrams 
 for you, or to calculate and project eclipses ?" 
 
 "No," Robinson would reply; "I do not care about 
 Friday's understanding the properties of the circle. But 
 1 do want him to be a thinking being, and if I can induce
 
 354 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll. II 
 
 Robinson Crusoe and Friday. Conic Section*. 
 
 him to think half an hour steadily and carefully, it is of 
 no consequence upon what subject his thoughts are em- 
 ployed. I chose the circle because that seemed easy and 
 distinct suitable for the first lesson. I do not know that 
 he will ever have occasion to make use of the fact, that 
 the radii of a circle are equal, as long as he shall live- 
 but he will have occasion for the power of patient atten 
 lion and thought which he acquired while attempting to 
 understand that subject." 
 
 This would unquestionably be sound philosophy, and 
 a savage who should study such a lesson on the beach of 
 his own wild island would forever after be less of a savage 
 than before. The effect upon his mental powers, of one 
 single effort like that, would last; and a series of such 
 efforts would transform him from a fierce and ungovern- 
 able, but stupid animal, to a cultivated and intellectual 
 man. 
 
 Thus it is with all education. One great object is to 
 increase the powers, and this is entirely distinct from the 
 acquisition of knowledge. Scholars very often ask, when 
 pursuing some difficult study, "What good will it do me 
 to know this?" But that is not the question. They ought 
 to ask, "What good will it do me to learn it? What ef- 
 fect upon my habits of thinking, and upon my intellectual 
 powers, will be produced by the efforts to examine and to 
 conquer these difficulties? 
 
 A very fine example of this is the study of conic sec- 
 tions, a difficult branch of the course of mathematics pur- 
 sued in college; a study which, from its difficulty and its 
 apparent uselessness, is often very unpopular in the class 
 pursuing it. The question is very often asked, " What 
 good will it ever do us in after-life to understand all these 
 mysteries of the parabola, and the hyperbola, and the 
 ordinites, and abscissas, and asymtotes?" The answer 
 is, that the knowledge of the facts which you acquire will 
 probably do you no good whatever. That is not the ob-
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 355 
 
 Difficult studies. Acquisition of knowledge. 
 
 ject, and every college officer knows full well that the 
 mathematical principles which this science demonstrates, 
 are not brought into use in after-life by one schr.lar in 
 ten. But every college officer, and every intelligent stu- 
 dent who will watch the operations of his own mind and 
 the influences which such exercises exert upon it, knows 
 equally well that the study of the higher mathematics pro- 
 duces an effect in enlarging and disciplining the intel- 
 lectual powers which the whole of life will not obliterate. 
 
 Do not shrink then from difficult work in your efforts 
 at intellectual improvement. You ought, if you wish to 
 secure the greatest advantage, to have some difficult work, 
 that you may acquire habits of patient research, and in- 
 crease and strengthen your intellectual powers. 
 
 2. The acquisition of knowledge. This is another ob- 
 ject of intellectual effort; and a moment's reflection will 
 convince any one that the acquisition of knowledge is the 
 duty of all. Sometimes it has been said by an individual 
 under the influence of a misguided interest in religious 
 truth, that he will have nothing to do with human learn- 
 ing; he will study nothing but the Bible, and all his 
 leisure hours he will give to meditation and prayer and 
 thus he will devote his whole time and strength to the 
 promotion of his progress in piety. But if there is any 
 thing clearly manifest of God's intentions in regard to 
 employment for man, it is that he should spend a very 
 considerable portion of his time upon earth in acquiring 
 knowledge knowledge, in all the extent and variety in 
 which it is offered to human powers. The whole economy 
 of nature is such as to allure man to the investigation of 
 it, and the whole structure of his mind is so framed as to 
 qualify him exactly for the work. If now a person be- 
 gins in early life, and even as late as twenty, and makes 
 it a part of his constant aim to acquire knowledge en- 
 deavoring every day to learn something which he did not 
 know before, or to fix something in the mind which wag
 
 556 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Skill. Three experiments with Friday. 
 
 before not familiar, he will make an almost insensible, 
 but a most rapid and important progress. The field of 
 his intellectual vision will widen and extend every year. 
 His powers of mind as well as his attainments will be 
 increased ; and as he can see more extensively, so he can 
 act more effectually every month than he could in the 
 preceding. He thus goes on through life, growing in 
 knowledge and in intellectual and moral power; and if 
 his spiritual progress keeps pace, as it ought to, with his 
 intellectual advancement, he is, with the divine assistance 
 and blessing, exalting himself higher and higher in the 
 scale of being, and preparing himself for a loftier and 
 wider field of service in the world to come. 
 
 3. The acquisition of skill is a third object of intellec- 
 tual effort. I point out clearly and separately the dis- 
 tinct objects which intellectual effort ought to have in view, 
 that my readers may ascertain whether they are doing 
 something to accomplish them all, and that in all the par- 
 ticular plans which they may adopt, they may have con- 
 stantly in mind the purpose which is in view in each, in 
 order the more effectually to secure it. I wish therefore 
 that my readers would notice particularly this third head, 
 for it is one which though in some respects quite as im- 
 portant as either of the oti:ers, is not often very clearly 
 pointed out. 
 
 To recur to my illustration of Robinson Crusoe and his 
 man Friday. The conversation which I supposed to be 
 held with him on the subject of the circle, was not merely 
 designed to give him information or skill, but to discipline 
 and improve his intellectual powers by the exercise. Let 
 us suppose now, that the next day Robinson had concluded 
 <o tell him the story of his own past adventures, and set- 
 ting down upon a green bank by the side of their hut, had 
 pivcn him an outline of his early life in England of his 
 first coming to sea of his wanderings and adventures 
 on the great ocean, andof his final shipwreck on the
 
 Ch. II.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 357 
 
 Teaching him to count. 
 
 island. He describes as well as he can the form and ap- 
 pearance of the great ship in which he had sailed, its spa- 
 cious decks and numerous company, and makes him ac- 
 quainted with his hope that, ere long, a similar ship, com- 
 itig from that same native land, will appear in the hori- 
 zon and come, attracted by their signals, to the island, and 
 bear him away to his home. 
 
 Now such a conversation as this is intended to give in- 
 formation. It may indeed be a useful discipline to Fri- 
 day's powers to listen to it, but that is not its main design. 
 Robinson's chief design is, to make his savage companion 
 acquainted with facts, which it is on many accounts im- 
 portant that he should know. 
 
 Now let us take a third case. My readers are all doubt- 
 less aware that savages can usually count only as far as 
 they have fingers to illustrate their arithmetic. Some 
 tribes can use both hands, counting as far as ten, and 
 when they get beyond that they hold up both hands, shake 
 their heads as if in perplexity, and say "great many 
 great many" Other tribes can go no farther than one 
 hand, and have no names for numbering beyond five. 
 
 Now suppose Robinson were to undertake to teach 
 Friday to count. He might say to himself that it would 
 often be a great convenience to him if Friday were able 
 to count, so that he might ascertain and describe to him 
 numbers higher than those which he could express by his 
 fingers. He accordingly commences the task, and perse- 
 veres day after day in the lesson. I say day after day, for, 
 easy as it may seem to us, it is a matter of no small difficul- 
 ty to teach a savage to count. Now, although there is un- 
 questionably an important mental discipline secured by 
 such an effort on the part of the savage, and although the 
 learning to count is in one sense the acquisition of know- 
 ledge it is, in a much more important sense, the acqui- 
 sition of skill. By making the process of counting fami- 
 liar, Friday is not so properly acquiring a knowledge of
 
 358 YODNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Study of mathematics. Imperfect education. 
 
 facts, as learning something to do. It is of the nature of 
 skill which he is to use in future times for tlie benefit of 
 himself and of Robinson. 
 
 If you call to mind the various studies which are urged 
 upon the attention of the young, you will find that skill, 
 that i3, learning to do something, is very often the object 
 in view. It is so with arithmetic. In studying the funda- 
 mental rules, the main design is not to bring in informa- 
 tion to your minds, but to teach you to do something. 
 When you read history, you are acquiring knowledge 
 when you study rhetoric or write composition for prac- 
 tice, you arc acquiring skill. Now all these three objects 
 in a good scheme of education are to be kept constantly 
 in view, and to be regularly provided for. A young man 
 at college, for instance, will study his demonstration in 
 the mathematics in the morning, for the purpose of im- 
 proving and strengthening his powers ; he will listen to 
 a philosophical or chemical lecture, or study botany in 
 the fields in the afternoon, to obtain knowledge, and in the 
 evening he will practise in his debating society, to acquire 
 skill. These three things are distinct and independent, 
 but all equally important in the business of life. If one is 
 cultivated and the others neglected, the man is very poorly 
 qualified for usefulness ; and yet nothing is more com- 
 mon than such half-educated men. 
 
 I have often known persons in whom the first of these 
 objects alone was secured. You will recognise one who 
 is in danger of such a result in his education, by his tak- 
 ing a strong interest, if he is in college for example, in 
 those pursuits in his class which require more of great 
 but temporary mental effort ; and by his neglecting the 
 equally important parts of his course, which would store 
 his mind with facts. He attracts the admiration of his 
 class by his fluent familiarity with all the mazes of the 
 most intricate theorem or problem ; and he excites an 
 equal surprise by his apparent dullness at the recitation
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 359 
 
 Neglect of important duties. 
 
 in history, making, as he does, the most ludicrous blun- 
 ders, and showing the most lamentable ignorance of every 
 thing which is beyond the pale of demonstration. When 
 at last he comes out into the world, his mind is acute and 
 powerful, out he is an entire stranger to the scene in which 
 he is to move ; he can do no good, because he does not 
 know where his efforts are to be applied ; he makes tho 
 same blunders in real life that he did in college in its 
 history, and is soon neglected and forgotten. He had 
 cultivated simple power, but was without information 
 or skill; his power was consequently almost useless. 
 
 On the other hand, a young man may spend his whole 
 strength in simply obtaining' knowledge neglecting the 
 cultivation of mental power, or the acquisition of skill. 
 He neglects his severer studies, and his various opportu- 
 nities for practice. " Spherics !" says he, " and trigo- 
 nometrical formula ! What good will they ever do me? 
 I am not going to be an almanac-maker, or to gain my 
 livelihood by calculating eclipses." So he reads history, 
 and voyages and travels, and devours every species of 
 periodical literature which finds its way within college 
 walls. He very probably neglects those duties which, 
 if faithfully performed, would cultivate the powers of 
 conversation, and writing, and public speaking ; and he 
 comes out into the world equally celebrated among all 
 who knew him, on the one hand, for the variety and ex- 
 tent of his general knowledge, and on the other, for tho 
 slenderness of his original mental power, and his utter 
 want of any skill in bringing his multifarious acquisi- 
 tions to bear upon the objects of life. 
 
 In the same manner I might illustrate the excessive 
 pursuit of the last of the objects I have named, viz. the 
 acquisition of skill, but I think it is unnecessary. My 
 readers will, I think, all clearly see that these objects 
 are distinct, and that all are of the first importance to 
 every one. To be most extensively useful, you must
 
 360 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Intellectual progress of a mother. 
 
 have original mental power, and knowledge of facts, 
 and skill to apply that knowledge in the most effectual 
 manner. 
 
 The illustrations which I have employed have referred 
 more directly to the cases of young men in a course of 
 public education, but I have not intended that these prin- 
 ciples should be exclusively applied to them. Nor are 
 they to be confined in their application to the preparatory 
 stages of education. Take for example a young mother of 
 a family. She ought at all times to be making daily intel- 
 lectual progress, and this intellectual progress ought to 
 be such as to secure a proportional attention to all the 
 three objects I have named. She ought to investigate 
 something which shall task her powers to the utmost, so 
 as to secure discipline and improvement of those powers. 
 She ought also to make regular and systematic efforts to 
 acquire information by reading and by conversation, 
 enlarging as much as possible the field of her vision, so 
 that she can the more fully understand the circumstances 
 in which she is placed, and the means of influence and 
 usefulness within her reach. She ought also to adopt 
 systematic plans for increasing her skill by learning, for 
 example, system in all her affairs by studying improve- 
 ments in the manner in which all her duties are perform- 
 ed endeavoring to become more laiiiiiul, and systema- 
 tic, and regular in all her employments. By this means 
 she may acquire dexterity in every pursuit, an important 
 influence over other minds, and especially a higher skill 
 in interesting, and instructing, and governing her children. 
 
 But I must not go more into detail in this part of my 
 subject. The best means of intellectual improvement 
 demand a volume instead of a chapter, though a chapter 
 is all which can be properly appropriated to it in such a 
 work as this. What I have already said in regard to the 
 three separate and distinct objects in view in education, 
 has been chiefly designed to persuade my young readers
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 361 
 
 Reading. System. 
 
 to engage cheerfully and cordially in all the pursuits 
 which those who are older and wiser than they have pre- 
 scribed, in the various literary institutions with which 
 they are connected. I shall with these remarks leave 
 the subject of the pursuit of study in literary seminaries, 
 and close the chapter with a few directions in regard to 
 such means of improvement as may be privately resorted 
 to by individuals, in their desire to improve. 
 
 I. READING. There are several detached directions 
 which will be of great service to you in your private read- 
 ing, if they are faithfully followed. 
 
 Read systematically. I mean by this, do not take up 
 and read any books because they merely chance to fall in 
 your way. You see on your neighbor's table a book 
 which looks as if it was interesting, as you say, and you 
 think you should like to read it. You borrow it carry 
 it home and at some convenient time you begin. You 
 soon however, either from taking it up at a time when you 
 were interested in something else, or from being fre- 
 quently interrupted, or perhaps from the character of ths 
 book, you find it rather dull, and after wasting a few 
 hours upon the first fifty pages, you tumble over the re- 
 mainder of the leaves, and then send the book home. 
 After a few days more, you find some other book by a si- 
 milar accident, and pursue the same course. Such a me- 
 thod of attempting to acquire knowledge from books will 
 only dissipate the mind, destroy all habits of accurate 
 thinking^ and unfit you for any intellectual progress. 
 
 But you must not go into the opposite extreme of draw- 
 ing up for yourself a set of rules and a system of read- 
 ing full enough to occupy you for years, and then begin 
 upon that with the determination of confining yourself, 
 at all hazards, rigidly to it. What I mean by sy sternal .c 
 reading is this. 
 
 Reflect upon your circumstances and condition in lif , 
 and consider what sort of knowledge will most increas ? 
 
 16
 
 vorso CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Variety. Thorough reading. 
 
 your usefulness and happiness. Then inquire of somo 
 judicious friend for proper books. If accident throws 
 Some book in your way, consider whether the subject 
 upon which it treats is one which comes within your 
 plan. Inquire about it, if you cannot form an opinion 
 yourself, and if you conclude to read it, persevere and 
 inish it. 
 
 Systematic reading requires too, that you should se- 
 cure variety in your books. Look over the departments 
 of human knowledge, and see that your plan is so formed 
 that it will give you some knowledge of them all. In re- 
 gard to the precise time and manner in which you shall fill 
 up the details, it is undoubtedly best not to form any ex- 
 act plan. It is better to leave such to be decided by cir- 
 cumstances, and even by your inclinations, from time to 
 time. You will enter with n.ore spirit and success into 
 the prosecution of any inquiry, if you engage in it at a time 
 when it soerns alluring and interesting to you. 
 
 Read thorirvgMy. Avoid getting into the habit of going 
 over ihe page in .a listless and mechanical manner. Make 
 an effi it to penetrate to the full meaning of your author, 
 and tlnuk patiently of every difficult passage until you 
 understand it ; or if it baffles your unassisted efforts, have 
 it explained. Heading thoroughly requires also that you 
 should make yourself acquainted with all those attendant 
 circumstances which enable you the more fully to under- 
 stand the author's meaning. Examine carefully the title- 
 page and preface of every book you read, that you may 
 learn who wrote it, where it was written, and what it waa 
 written lor. Have at hand, if possible, such helps as maps, 
 and a gazetteer, arid a biographical dictionary. Be care- 
 ful then to find upon the map everyplace mentioned, and 
 learn from the gazetteer what sort of place it is. If an 
 allusion is made to any circumstances in the life of an 
 eminent man or in public history, investigate by books or 
 by inquiry the allusion, so as fully to understand it. If
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 363 
 
 .Short woiks. 
 
 possible, find other accounts of the transactions which 
 your author is describing, and compare one with another 
 reflect upon the differences in the statements, and en- 
 deavor to ascertain the truth. Such a mode of reading as 
 this is a very slow way of getting over the pages of a 
 book, but it is a very rapid way of acquiring knowledge. 
 
 Do not undertake to read extensive works. A young 
 person will sometimes commence Hume's England, or 
 Gibbon's Decline and Fall, or llallam's Middle Ages, or 
 some other extensive work, beginning it with no calcula- 
 tion of the time which will be required to complete it, 
 and in fact with no definite plan whatever. Such an un- 
 dertaking is almost always a failure. Any mind under 
 twenty years of age will get wearied out again and again 
 in going through a dozen octavo volumes on any subject 
 whatever. There is no objection to reading such works, 
 but let it be in detached portions at a time. Select, for in- 
 stance, from Hume's most interesting narrative, the reign 
 of some one monarch, Elizabeth or Alfred ; or make choice 
 of such a subject as the crusades, or the life of Mary 
 Queen of Scots, and mark off" such a portion of the whole 
 work as shall relate to the topic thus chosen. This can 
 easily be done, and with no greater difficulty on account 
 of its compelling the reader to begin in the middle of the 
 history, than must always be felt in reading history. If 
 you begin at the beginning of a work, and go regularly 
 through to the end, you will find a thousand cases in 
 which the narrative you read is connected with other his- 
 tories in such a way as to demand the same effort to un- 
 derstand the connection which will be necessary in the 
 (Course I have proposed. 
 
 Form then, for your reading, short and definite plans. 
 When you commence a work, calculate how long it will 
 take you to finish it, and endeavor to adhere to the plan 
 you shall form in regard to the degree of rapidity with 
 which you will proceed. This habit, if once formed, will
 
 364 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [CH. 11, 
 
 Conversation. DiSculty of cultivating it. 
 
 be the means of promoting regularity and efficacy in all 
 yoi'r plans. 
 
 II. CONVERSATION. This topic deserves a volume, in- 
 stead of the very brief notice which is all that is consist- 
 ent with the plan of this book. It is known and admitted 
 to be one of the most important of all attainments, and per- 
 haps nothing is more desired by all intelligent young per- 
 sons who reflect at all upon their means of influence and 
 improvement, than conversational power. But, notwith- 
 standing this general impression in its favor, there is no- 
 thing of half its importance which is so entirely neglected 
 in education. And there is, it must be acknowledged, a 
 very great difficulty in the subject. It cannot be taught in 
 schools and by classes, like the other branches of know- 
 ledge or skill. Some few successful experiments have 
 indeed been made, but almost every effort to make it a 
 distinct object of attention in a literary seminary has 
 either failed entirely, or resulted in producing a stiff and 
 formal manner, which is very far from being pleasing. 
 Acquiring skill in conversation therefore must, in most 
 cases, be left to individual effort ; and even here, if the 
 acquisition of skill is made the direct object, the individual 
 will notice his manner so much, and take so much pains 
 with that, as to be in peculiar danger of affectation or for- 
 mality. To acquire the art of conversation then, I would 
 recommend that you should practise conversation syste- 
 matically and constantly, but that you should have some 
 other objects than improvement in your manner of ex- 
 pressing yourself mainly in view. You will become in- 
 terested in these objects, and consequently interested in 
 the conversation which you make use of as a means of 
 promoting them ; and by not having your own manner 
 directly in view, the danger of that stiffness, and preci- 
 sion, and affectation, which is so common a result of ef- 
 forts to improve in such an art as this, will be escaped. 
 I will mention what these objects may be.
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 365 
 
 Means of cultivating it. Experiments proposed 
 
 Make conversation a means of acquiring knowledge. 
 Every person with whom you are thrown into casual 
 connection has undoubtedly some knowledge which would 
 be useful or valuable to you. You are riding in the stage, 
 I will suppose, and the rough-looking man who sits by 
 your side appears so unattractive that you do not ima- 
 gine that he has any thing to say which can interest you. 
 But frpeak to him draw him into conversation, and you 
 will find that he is a sea captain who has visited a hun- 
 dred ports, and can tell you many interesting stories about 
 every clime. He will like to talk, if he finds you are 
 interested to hear, and you may make, by his assistance, 
 a more important progress in really useful knowledge 
 during that day's ride, than by the study of the best lesson 
 from a book that was ever learned. Avail yourselves, in 
 this way, of every opportunity which Providence may 
 place within your reach. 
 
 You may do much to anticipate and to prepare for con- 
 versation. You expect, I will suppose, to be thrown into 
 the company of a gentleman residing in a distant city. 
 Now, before you meet him, go to such sources of informa- 
 tion as are within your reach, and learn 1 11 you can about 
 that city. You will get some hints in regard to its pub- 
 lic institutions, its situations, its business, and its objects 
 of interest of every kind. Now you cannot read the 
 brief notices of this sort which common books can fur- 
 nish, without having your curiosity excited in regard to 
 some points at least, and you will go into the company 
 ol the stranger, not dreading his presence and shrinking 
 from the necessity of conversation, but eager to avail 
 yourself of the opportunity of gratifying your curiosity, 
 and learning something full and satisfactory from an eye- 
 witness of the scenes which the book had so briefly de- 
 scribed. By this means, too, the knowledge of books and 
 of conversation of study and of real life will be brought 
 together ; and this is a most important object for you to
 
 366 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Pla.is and experiments. Digesting knowledge. 
 
 secure. It will give vividness and an air of reality to 
 written description, if you can frequently, after reading 
 the description, have an opportunity to converse with 
 one who has seen the object or the scene described. 
 
 You may make a more general preparation for the op- 
 portunities for conversation which you will enjoy. Con- 
 sider what places and what scenes those with whom you 
 may be casually thrown into connection will most fre- 
 quently have visited, and make yourself as much ac- 
 quainted with them as possible ; you can then converse 
 about them. Ascertain too what are the common topics 
 of conversation in the place in which you reside, and 
 learn by reading or by inquiry all you can about them ; 
 o that you can be prepared to understand fully what you 
 hear, and make your own inquiries advantageously, and 
 thus be prepared to engage intelligently and with good 
 effect, in the conversation in which you may have op- 
 portunity to join. 
 
 On the same principle it will be well for you, when you 
 meet with any difliculty in your reading or in your stu- 
 dies, or when in private meditations any inquiries aris 
 in your minds which you cannot yourselves satisfactorily 
 answer, not to dismiss them from your thoughts as diffi- 
 culties which must remain because you cannot yourselves 
 remove them. Consider who of your acquaintances will 
 be most probably able to assist you in regard to each. 
 One may be a philosophical question, another a point of 
 general literature, and a third may be a question of 
 Christian duty. By a moment's reflection you will easily 
 determine to whom each ought to be referred ; and when 
 the next opportunity occurs you can refer them, and give 
 yourself and your friend equal pleasure by the conversa- 
 tion you will thus introduce. 
 
 Make conversation a means of digesting your know* 
 ledge. I am obliged to use the term digest, because there 
 is no other The food that is received into the system
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 367 
 
 Necessily of digesting what is read. 
 
 is, by a peculiar set of vessels, dissolved, and so incorpo- 
 rated with the very system itself as to become actual- 
 ly a part of it ; it is assimilated completely, and then, and 
 only then, does it promote its growth and strength. Now, 
 it is just so with the reception of knowledge. It must 
 not only be received by the mind, but it must be ana* 
 lyzed and incorporated with it, so as to form a part of the 
 very mind itself; and then, and not till then, can the 
 knowledge be properly said to be really possessed. If a 
 scholar reads a passage in an author, simply receiving it 
 into the mind as a mass will do very little good. Take 
 for example these very remarks on conversation : a 
 reader may peruse the pages thoroughly, and fully un- 
 derstand all that I say, and yet the whole that I present 
 may lie in the mind an undigested mass, which never can 
 nourish or sustain. On the other hand, it may be not 
 merely received into the mind, but made a subject of 
 thought and reflection there ; it may be analyzed ; the 
 principles it explains may be applied to the circum- 
 stances of the reader ; the hints may be carried out, and 
 resolutions formed for acting in accordance with the 
 views presented. By these and similar means the reader 
 becomes possessed, really and fully, of new ideas on the 
 subject of conversation. His thoughts and notions in 
 regard to it are permanently changed. His knowledge, 
 .n a word, is digested assimilated to his own mind, so 
 as to become as it were a part of it, and so intimately 
 united with it as not to be separated again. 
 
 Now, conversation affords one of the most important 
 means of digesting what is read and heard. In fact, you 
 cannot talk about what you learn without digesting it. 
 Sometimes two persons read together, aloud by turns ; 
 each one freely remarking upon what is heard, making 
 inquiries, or bringing forward additional facts or illus- 
 tions connected with the subject. Sometimes two per- 
 ons reading separately, come afterward together for
 
 366 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Cll. 11. 
 
 Distinction between character and conduct. 
 
 walk, and each one describes his own book, and relates 
 the substance of what it contains as far as he has read, 
 bringing down at each successive meeting the narrative of 
 the description as far as the reader has gone. By this 
 means each acquires the power of language and expres- 
 sion, digests and fixes what he has read, and also gives 
 information to his companion. If any two of my readers 
 will try this experiment, they will find much pleasure 
 and improvement from it. 
 
 III. WRITING. The third and perhaps the most im- 
 portant of the means of intellectual improvement is the 
 use of the pen. The powers of the pen, as an instrument 
 for accomplishing all the objects of intellectual effort, 
 discipline, knowledge and skill, are almost altogether un- 
 known among the young. I am satisfied, however, that 
 any general remarks which I might make would be less 
 likely to interest my readers in this subject than a parti- 
 cular description of the manner in which they can best 
 use the pen to accomplish the objects in view. I shall 
 accordingly come at once to minute detail. 
 
 1. PersonalJournals. Every young person old enough 
 to write, may take a great deal of pleasure in keeping a 
 journal of his own personal history. After a very little 
 practice the work itself will be pleasant, and the improve- 
 ment which it will promote is far greater than one who 
 has not actually experienced it would expect. The style 
 should be a simple narrative of facts, chiefly descriptions 
 of scenes through which you have passed, and memoranda 
 in regard to important points of your history. Every thing 
 relating to your progress in knowledge, your plans for 
 your own improvement, the books you read, and the de- 
 gree of interest which they excited, should be noted 
 down. You ought not to resolve to write every day, be- 
 cause sometimes it will be impossible, and then when 
 your resolution has once yielded to necessity, it will af- 
 terward more easily be broken by negligence. Resolve
 
 Oh. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 369 
 
 Form and manner. Running titles 
 
 simply to write when you can, only be careful to watch 
 yourself, and see that you persevere in your plan, whatever 
 interruptions may for a time suspend it. At the close of 
 the week, think how you have been employed during the 
 week, and make a record a short one at least you cer- 
 tainly can of what has interested you. When, from for- 
 getfulness, or loss of interest in it, or pressure of other 
 duties, you have for a long time neglected your journal, 
 do not throw it aside and take up a new book and begin 
 formally once more but begin where you left off fill- 
 ing up with a few paragraphs the interval of the history, 
 and thus persevere. 
 
 There should be in a journal, and in all the other sets 
 of books which I shall describe, a double running title, 
 like that over the pages of this book, with two lines ruled 
 as above, so that the general title maybe above the upper 
 one, and the particular subjects of the each individual 
 page above the under one. This double running title 
 would be in the following form : 
 
 1832. PERSONAL JOURNAL. 63 
 
 Ride into the country. Begin botany. My sister's sickness. 
 
 The reader will understand that the number 63 repre- 
 sents the page. Corresponding with 1832 on the left hand 
 page, should be written the name of the place in which 
 the writer resides, and the word private may be used in- 
 stead of personal, if it is preferred. The book should be 
 of such a form as can easily be written in, and of mode- 
 rate or small size. You can begin a second volume when 
 you have finished the first, and the volumes will in a few 
 years begin to be numerous. Some persons adopt the 
 plan of writing in little books, stitched together, made of 
 ten half sheets of letter-paper ; folded once, with a plain 
 marble-paper cover. These little pamphlets are more 
 easily written in than bound volumes, and after a dozen 
 16*
 
 370 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Family Journal. Dy brothers and sisters. Its advantages. 
 
 of them are filled, they may be bound up by a book-binder 
 Into a volume of the size of this book. I have seen very 
 many manuscript volumes made in this way. 
 
 A journal now, kept in this systematic manner, will be 
 interesting and valuable, if you describe in it the things 
 that most interested you at the age in which you kept it ; 
 and if it is carried on regularly through life, even with 
 such interruptions as I have alluded to, it will be a most 
 valuable and most interesting document. You will read its 
 pages again and again with profit and pleasure. 
 
 2. Family Journal. Let three or four of the older bro- 
 thers and sisters of a family agree to write a history of 
 the family. Any father would procure a book for thia 
 purpose, and if the writers are young, the articles intend- 
 ed for insertion in it might be written first, on separate 
 paper, and then c rrected and transcribed. The subjects 
 tillable to be recorded in such a book will suggest them- 
 selves to every one ; a description of the place of resi- 
 dence at the time of commencing the book, with similar 
 descriptions of other places from time to time, in case of 
 removals the journeys or absences of the head of the 
 family or its members the sad scenes of sickness or 
 death which may be witnessed, and the joyous ones of 
 weddings, or festivities, or holidays the manner in which 
 the members are from time te time employed^and pic- 
 tures of the scenes which the fireside group exhibits in 
 the long winter everting or the conversation which is 
 heard and the plans formed at the supper-table, or in the 
 morning walk. 
 
 If a family, when it is first established, should com- 
 mence such a record of their own efforts and plans, and 
 the various dealings of Providence toward them, the fa- 
 ther and the mother carrying it on jointly until the chil- 
 dren are old enough to take the pen, they would lind the 
 work n source of great improvement and pleasure. It 
 would tend to keep distinctly in view the great object for
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 371 
 
 Subjects. Notes and Abstracts. 
 
 which they ought to live, and repeatedly recognizing, as 
 they doubtless would do, the hand of God, they would 
 feel more sensibly and more constantly their dependence 
 upon him. 
 
 The form and manner in which such a journal should 
 be written might properly be the same with that de- 
 scribed under the last head the word family being 
 substituted for personal in the general title. It ought 
 also to be written in such a style and upon such sub- 
 jects as shall render it proper to give children free access 
 to it. On this account it will be well to avoid such par- 
 ticulars, in regard to any child, as may be flattering to his 
 vanity when he shall become old enough to read them, 
 and to refrain from making a record of faults which will 
 remain a standing source of suffering and disgrace, when 
 perhaps they ought soon to be forgotten. It is true, that 
 one of the most important portions of such a journal 
 would consist of the description of the various plans 
 adopted for correcting faults, and for promoting improve- 
 ment the peculiar moral and intellectual treatment which 
 each cLilil received the success of the various experi- 
 ments in education which intelligent parents will always 
 be disposed to try -and anecdotes of children, illustrat- 
 ing the language, or the sentiments, or the difficulties of 
 childhood. With a little dexterity, however, on the part 
 of the writer, a faithful record of all these things can be 
 kept, and yet, by an omission of names, or of some im- 
 portant circumstances, the evils I have above alluded to 
 may be avoided. 
 
 3. Notes and Abstracts. It is sometimes the case, that 
 young persons, when they meet any thing remarkable in 
 the course of their reading, transcribe it, with the ex- 
 pectation of referring to their coyy afterward to refresh 
 their memories, and thus, after a while, they get their 
 desks very full of knowledge, while very little remains 
 in the head. Now it ought to be remembered that know-
 
 572 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11 
 
 True design of taking notes. 
 
 ledge is of no value, or at least of scarcely any, unless 
 it is fairly lodged in the mindf and so digested, as I have 
 before shown, as to become a permanent possession. 
 Now, if transcribing and writing notes and abstracts of 
 what you read is made the means of fixing thus firmly 
 in the mind your various acquisitions, it is of immense 
 value ; if made the substitute for it, it is worse than use- 
 less. It may be a most powerful means, as any one may 
 prove to himself by the following experiment. 
 
 Read some history in the ordinary way, without the 
 use of the pen, with the exception that yon select some 
 chapter in the middle of the work, with which you may 
 try the experiment of an abstract. After having read it 
 attentively, shut the book and write the substance of the 
 narrative it contains. The more you deviate in style and 
 language from your author the better, because, by such 
 a deviation you employ more your own original resources, 
 you reduce the knowledge you have gained to a form 
 adapted to your own habits of thought, and you conse- 
 quently make it more fully your own, and fix it more in- 
 delibly in the mind. After finishing the abstract of that 
 chapter, go on with the remainder of the book in the 
 usual way, by simply reading it attentively. You will 
 find now, if you carefully try this experiment, that the 
 chapter which you have thus treated will, for many 
 years, stand out most conspicuous among all the rest in 
 your recollections of the work. The facts which it has 
 stated will retain possession of your minds when all the 
 rest are forgotten, and they will come up, when wanted 
 for use, with a readiness which will show how entirely 
 you made them your own. 
 
 It is on this principle, and with such a view, that notes 
 and abstracts are to bfwritten. Some very brief practi- 
 cal directions will be of service to those who wish to 
 adopt the plan. 
 
 Do not resolve to write copious abstracts of all that
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 373 
 
 Form of books. Plan. Variety. 
 
 you read : the labor would be too great. Never read, 
 however, without your abstract book at hand, and record 
 whatever strikes you as desirable to be remembered. 
 Sometimes, when reading a book of great importance, 
 and full of information which is new and valuable, you 
 may write a full abstract of the whole. Gibbon, the cele- 
 brated historian, attributed, it is said, much of the suc- 
 cess of his writing to the influence of his having made a 
 very copious abstract of Blackstone's Commentaries, a 
 most interesting book, and which no young man of edu- 
 cation can read without profit and pleasure. 
 
 Let the form of your books be like the journals above 
 described ; with ruled lines at the top for a double run- 
 ning title, to facilitate reference. These lines should be 
 ruled on through the book at first, at least they should 
 be kept ruled far in advance of the writing, or the writer 
 will inadvertently omit to leave a space for them. 1 have 
 known many books commenced on this plan, but never 
 one, I believe, without having this accident occur to vex 
 and discourage the writer. 
 
 Let your abstracts be of every variety of form and man- 
 ner. Sometimes long and sometimes short, sometimes 
 fully written in a finished style, and sometimes merely a 
 table of contents of your book. There may be a blank 
 line left between the separate articles, and the title of each 
 should be written before it, and doubly underscored, that 
 is, distinguished by a double line drawn under it. This 
 is represented in printing by small capitals. When this 
 is the title of the book read, and is prefixed to a long ab- 
 stract, it may properly be placed over the article. Some- 
 times the writer will merely copy a remarkable expres- 
 sion, or a single interesting fact ; at other times a valuable 
 moral sentiment, or a happy illustration. He will often 
 insert only a single paragraph from a long book, and at 
 other times make a full abstract of its contents. But I 
 must give specimens, as by this means I can much more
 
 374 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Specimens. Reynolds. Ilumboldt 
 
 readily give my readers an idea of my meaning. These 
 specimens are not imaginary ones. They are, with one 
 or two exceptions, all taken from three or four abstract 
 books of different young persons, who lent them to me 
 for this purpose. The titles in capitals represent the un- 
 derscored words described above. The running title at 
 the top should be like the specimen already given, with 
 the exception that the M'ords NOTES AND ABSTRACTS 
 should be substituted for PERSONAL JOURNAL. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP. A man should keep his friendship in constant repair. 
 --Johnson. 
 
 REYNOLDS. Sir Joshua Reynolds, a celebrated portrait painter, co- 
 temporary and friend of Johnson, Goldsmith, &c. one of the found* 
 ers of the Royal Academy, and for many years its President. He wa 
 born near Plymouth, but resided in London during most of his life, 
 occasionally making tours to the continent, lie nearly lost his life 
 in the close of life, and died at an advanced age, of a disease of the 
 liver. Jforthcohs 1 Life of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
 FLORENCE. The Academy of Fine Arts in Florence is the most 
 celebrated school of painting in the world. 
 
 HUMBOLDT'S New SPAIN. Introduction gives an account of his 
 own geometrical and astronomical observations in attempting to de- 
 termine the position of several points, and likewise the other source! 
 of information which he had. There are nine points at each of which 
 a communication lias been proposed to be made between the Atlan- 
 tic and Pacific Vera Cruz the eastern, and Acapulco the we c tern 
 port of Mexico. Gold and silver, he says, travels from west to east i 
 the ocean, the atmosphere, and civilization in a contrary direction. 
 
 The Andes in Peru are more broken and rough than in Mexico; 
 the plains, though elevated, are comparatively small, and hemmed in 
 by lofty mountains, or separated by deep precipitous vallies. 
 
 In Mexico the chain of mountains spreads itself out into immense 
 plains, with few sudden decljvities or precipices. Fruits of every cli- 
 mate may be cultivated on these elevations at the various heights, but 
 not with so much success, on account of the rarefaction of the atmos- 
 phere, as they can in northern latitudes At certain seasons of the 
 year both coasts of Mexico are inaccessible on account of storms. The
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 375 
 
 Chronology. English Empire in India. Synagogues. 
 
 navigation on the east side is impeded by sand banks washed in by 
 iie westerly currents of the ocean. 
 
 CHRONOLOGY. Difference between the chronology of the Hebrew 
 and Septuagint manuscripts. 
 
 Mt. Ararat probably in the north of India, in Shuckford's opinion 
 
 ENGLISH EMPIIIE iv INDIA. The English and French had about xlie 
 middle of the last century several factories on various parts of the 
 coasts of Hindoostan. In their quarrels with each other they endea- 
 vored to secure to themselves the co-operation of the natives, and in 
 this way the Europeans and the Hindoos became involved in the wars 
 of each other. The English were generally successful, and in this 
 way gradually extended their influence and their power. 
 
 Rajd Dowlah, sovereign of Bengal, a wealthy, extensive, and popu 
 lous country, became a little alarmed at the progress which 'he Eng 
 lisli made in their contentions with tho French concerning their re 
 spective settlements in that country. Ho endeavored to oppose them, 
 and in consequence the English fomented a conspiracy against his 
 government, enticed his prime minister to treason, and then, after 
 fighting a single battle, placed him in command. Col. Clive was the 
 instrument of this revolution. The province of Bengal thus came into 
 the hands of the East India Company. 
 
 A short time afterward the French were conquered at Coroman- 
 del, and the natives brought under the power of the English. 
 
 SYNAGOGUES. It is generally supposed that the Jewish synagogues 
 originated during the captivity, and were continued after their return. 
 Kimpton. 
 
 I should suppose, from the appearance of these arti- 
 cles, which were the first few pages of a large book of 
 this kind, that they were all the notes taken of the read- 
 ing of some weeks, as several books of considerable size 
 are quoted as authority. It is not best that the writer 
 should resolve upon any particular quantity each day. or 
 for each book, and, as I remarked in regard to the jour- 
 nal, when you find that you have for some time neglected 
 your pen, do not be discouraged and give up the plan, 
 but calmly begin where you left off, and renew your work 
 and your resolution together.
 
 376 YOUNG CHRISTIAN'. [Ch. 11 
 
 History of the Bible. Sir Humphrey Davy. 
 
 Sometimes the abstracts may be in a more abridged 
 style, like a table of contents. They can be more rapidly 
 written in this form, but the benefit derived from the ex- 
 ercise is less. The following is an example from another 
 book, by another writer. You will perceive that the 
 style is so condensed that the notes can merely serve as 
 memoranda for the writer's own use. They are scarcely 
 intelligible to another person. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 Old and New Testaments. Hebrew and Greek Continua Scriptio. 
 At various times and places. Samaritan Pentateuch : discrepancies 
 between it and the Hebrew Bible. Controversy. Discovery in mo- 
 dern times of these manuscripts. 
 
 Its preservation by successive transcripts. Old ones worn out and 
 lost. Exemplars. 
 
 Greek Testament. Why in Greek T Circulated in manuscript. 
 
 Textus receptus. Elzevir Edition. Pres. manuscripts imperfect. 
 Written about 1000 or 1400 Alexandrian manuscripts. Vatican. 
 Modes of determining antiquity. British Museum. 
 
 Translations. Septuagint. Vulgate. Printed editions of the Bible 
 and Greek Testament. Complutensian Polyglot. Sources of infor- 
 mation. Manuscripts. Septuagint. Samaritan Pentateuch ; quota- 
 tions, 1514. 
 
 English. Wickliffe's. Oppositions made to it. Circulated in ma- 
 nuscript. Tindal's printed in Holland. Efforts to keep copies out of 
 England. Bishop of London bought up the whole edition to burn. 
 James' Bible. Fifty-four men at various places, Cambridge, Oxford, 
 and Westminster. Later translations, 1607. Forty-seven men of the 
 fifty met to compare, and after three years' labor, issued, in 1660, the 
 most commonly approved version. 
 
 Another form in which these abstracts may be written, 
 where the importance of the subject or the interest of the 
 reader renders it desirable, is by giving a full and com- 
 plete view of the facts on some one topic. The follow- 
 ing, taken from a third abstract book, is a specimen : 
 
 SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 
 Born at Penzance, Cornwall, Eng. Dec. 1779. His family were in
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 377 
 
 Sir Humphrey Davy. 
 
 the middle rank in life, and in reduced circumstances, so that he was 
 thrown upon his own efforts and resources at an early age. At the 
 age of nine years distinguished for his poetical talents. At eighteen 
 his acquirements in many of the sciences were good, but chemistry 
 particularly arrested his attention. His first experiments showed ori 
 ginality, and his pursuit promised useful discoveries. His first exaini 
 nation of sea-weed proved that marine plants exert the same influence 
 upon the air contained in the water of the ocean, as land vegetables 
 exert upon the atmosphere. Two years after commencing his chemi- 
 cal studies he published his "Researches," which exhibited great 
 skill, and gave to the world many original experiments and discove- 
 ries. He first tried the experiment of inhaling the nitrous oxide the 
 exhilarating gas. When not much over twenty years of age he was 
 designated to fill the chemical chair in the Royal Institution in Great 
 Britain, founded by Count Rumford. His first efforts in this elevated 
 sphere were turned toward endeavoring to render his powers useful 
 and advantageous to the arts employed in the humbler walks of life. 
 The tanning of leather and agricultural implements were among the 
 subjects of his first attention, and he adapted himself admirably to the 
 circumstances of the practical agriculturist. In 1806-7 he made his 
 brilliant discoveries in galvanism; in 1810 he brought forward his 
 theory respecting the nature of chlorine, or oxymuriatic acid, which 
 gave rise to a memorable controversy that agitated the schools ot 
 chemistry ten years. At the close of this period nearly the whole 
 army of diemists came over to his side. In 1812 he was knighted by 
 the Prince Regent, (George IVtli,) and was thus released from the ar- 
 duous duties of the professorship, and was enabled to devote himself 
 wholly to his pursuits. His attempts to unroll the valuable MSS. found 
 in the ruins of Herculaneum, 1696 in number, were frustrated by una- 
 voidable obstacles thrown in his way by jealous superintendents of 
 the Museum ; but the enterprise was not wholly fruitless, twenty-three 
 MSS. being partially unrolled. The year 1818 was rendered memo- 
 rable by the invention of the safety lamp. Terrible disasters had oc- 
 curred in the coal mines in England for years a species of gas extri- 
 cated from the coal, on mixing with atmospheric air, takes fire from a 
 lamp, and explodes with great violence. All previous efforts to obvi- 
 ate these dangers had proved ineffectual ; but the experience of four- 
 teen years, while this lamp has been in constant and extensive use, 
 without the occurrence of a single explosion, proves its importance, 
 and the benefit conferred on the world by its invention. In 1820, by 
 a majority of two hundred to thirteen, he was elected President of the 
 Royal Institution. His last great scientific effort was the discovery of 
 a method of protecting the copper sheathing of ships from corrosion by sea- 
 water. His method of proceeding in this and all similar cases, wai
 
 378 YOUNO CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 1!. 
 
 Hiring children. The Savior's thirst on the cross. 
 
 simple and obvious, yet one rarely followed, viz. first to ascertain 
 .he cause of' the evil, and then to find out how to control it by study- 
 ing its nature. He died at Geneva, where he had resorted for his 
 health, of apoplexy, aged 50 years and 6 months. 
 
 I have one more form to describe, in which these notes 
 and abstracts may be kept. It requires a little higher 
 intellectual effort, and is consequently more useful than 
 the other. You meet, in conversation or in reading, with 
 some fact which illustrates a useful and important gene- 
 ral principle, or which suggests to you an interesting 
 train of thought : you record the fact, and the reflec- 
 tions which it suggests together. For example, to make 
 use of a case which actually occurred, a sea captain re- 
 marks in your hearing that it is unwise to promise sailors 
 extra pay for their extra exertions in difficult emergen- 
 cies, for it soon has the effect of rendering them indolent 
 whenever such extra pay is not offered. They are con- 
 tinually on the watch for occasions on which they can 
 demand it. This conversation might suggest the follow- 
 ing entry in a note book. 
 
 HIRING CHILDRKN. Parents should never promise their children 
 ny reward for doing right, or for refraining from doing wrong. A 
 sea captain was once so unwise as to promise his sailors in a storm, 
 that if tiny would exert themselves he would teward them by an ad- 
 dition to their wages when the storm was over. They did make an 
 unusual effort, and received the reward ; but the consequence was, 
 that he could never afterward get them to do their duly in a storm 
 without a reward being promised. In the same manner, if parent* 
 begin by hiring their children to do right, they will not afterward d 
 right without being hired. 
 
 The following are similar examples, but on different 
 subjects. The second was written by a pupil in a female 
 school. 
 
 THE SAVIOR'S THIRST ON THE CROSS The dreadful thirst of the 
 Savior on the cross was occasioned by the violent fever produced by
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 379 
 
 Deceiving children. Narrative*. 
 
 the inflammation of his wounds. I met with the following passage 
 to-day in the narrative of a soldier, which illustrates this subject : 
 
 "I remember well as \ve moved down in column, shot and shell 
 flew over and through it in quick succession. We sustained little 
 injury from either; but a captain of the twenty-ninth had been dread- 
 fully lacerated by a ball, and lay directly in our path. We passed 
 close to him ; he knew us all ; and the heart-rending tone in which hi? 
 called to us for water, or to IMl him, I shall never forget. He lay 
 alone, and we were in motion and could give him no succor; for on 
 this trying day, such of the dying as could not walk, lay unattended 
 where they fell. All was hurry and struggle; every arm was wanted 
 in the field." 
 
 DECEIVING CHII.DREI*. Returning from school yesterday after- 
 noon, my attention was arrested by the loud voice of some one ad- 
 dressing a child ; I turned, and as I walked very leisurely, I overheard 
 the following conversation : 
 
 Lady. John, leave off playing in the snow ; see your clean clothes 
 now ; and your shoes are filled with snow. 
 
 John. I don't care for that ; I shall play here if I'm a mind to, for 
 all you. 
 
 Lady. You little impudence ; I don't love you, I don't love you 
 at all. 
 
 John. Well, that's no matter. 
 
 Lady. I'll go off, then ; goodnight. I am going to the jail. 
 
 She turns round and walks down the street a little distance 
 
 Lady. You see I'm going, John. 
 ~" John. I don't care if you are. 
 
 Presently she walked slowly back and came up to John, at the sam 
 time he gave a hearty laugh, saying, " I thought you were going to the 
 jail." 
 
 I had now got so far as not to be able to hear what more they said, 
 but I could not help pitying the child, who thus early was taught to 
 disobey his superiors, for surely it is nothing less. 
 
 Many parents, and even brothers and sisters, complain of the con- 
 duct of the younger members of their families, while they are conti- 
 nually treating them in this manner : they certainly need expect no- 
 thing better from them while they endeavor thus to deceive them. 
 
 The above examples illustrate well what I mean by 
 turning knowledge to account, drawing from it the prac 
 tical lessons which it may help to teach. This is in fact 
 the most important part of your object in mental cultiva-
 
 380 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 Ellen, or " Boast not thyself of to-morrow." 
 
 tion. Many young persons err exceedingly in seek- 
 ing simply knowledge, which they treasure up in a cold 
 and speculative form, without drawing from it any moral 
 lessons, or making it the means of awakening any of the 
 strong emotions of the heart. But I wish my readers 
 would always remember that moral progress is far more 
 valuable than intellectual; the latter in fact is but the 
 instrument of the former. In all your writing then, aim 
 at accomplishing the real object which ought always to 
 be kept in view. In selecting from your reading, or from 
 your personal observation, what you will impress upon 
 your memories with the pen, choose those facts and oc- 
 currences which touched your hearts, and whose impres- 
 sions your pen may strengthen or renew. I close the 
 chapter with two specimens which will illustrate this. 
 One, as will be evident from its own allusions, was writ- 
 ten by a pupil in a female boarding school ; and it will be 
 observed in reading it, how the ordinary occurrences 01 
 life may be made the means, through the instrumentality 
 of reflection and of the pen, of fixing in the heart the les- 
 sons of the Bible. Both narratives are substantially true ; 
 the latter entirely so. 
 
 " BOAST NOT THYSELF OK TO-MORROW." Yesterday our cummer 
 term closed, and a day of bustle it was. Every moment that could 
 possibly be spared from our studies was devoted to preparations for 
 returning home, packing trunks, exchanging parting words, and talk- 
 ing over various plans for enjoyment during the vacation, which all 
 seemed to anticipate as a continued scene of unalloyed happiness. 
 
 My afflicted room-mate, Ellen, was then the happiest of the happy. 
 She is an only daughter, a most affectionate, warm-hearted girl ; and 
 kas been so much elated, for the last few days, at the thought of meet- 
 ing her beloved parents and brothers, that she has seemed to tread on 
 air; but I fear now that when they meet it will be in a deep sorrow. 
 
 Last evening we assembled in the hall for our devotions, and as is 
 customary, each young lady repeated a text of Scripture before we 
 united in proyer. " Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest 
 not what a day may bring forth," was Ellen's text. It was particularly 
 observed by several, on account of the appropriate warning it seemed
 
 Cll. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 381 
 
 The etory of Ellen continued. 
 
 to convey. She little thought how soon her own experience would 
 confirm its truth. After bidding our teacher good night, she skipped 
 up stairs with a glee and light-hcartedness that could scarcely be re- 
 strained within proper bounds, exclaiming, " to-mcrrow to-morrow 
 how happy I shall be '" 
 
 " Remember your text, dear Ellen," said one of our beloved cjm. 
 panionc with a sad smile, as she passed on to her own room. " I 
 wish J. would not talk so seriously," said Ellen, as we closed our door 
 for the night, " but then, after all, I love her the more for it. I heard 
 some one say that she had been much afflicted for one so young." 
 
 This morning Ellen was awake at the peep of dawn, and waked me, 
 that I might enjoy with her, through our half-closed curtains, the 
 deepening glow in the east, which gave promise of a fine day for her 
 ride home. When the bell summoned us to prayers, every thing was 
 ready for the journey, and she met the family in her riding-dress, that 
 no time might be lost after her father, whom she expected for her, 
 should arrive. 
 
 " Boast not thyself of to morrow, for thou knowest not what a day 
 may bring forth," were the first words that met our ear from the selec- 
 tion of Scripture which our teacher had chosen for the morning. 
 
 "We have had your text ag;:in, Ellen," whispered one of the girls 
 as we went to the breakfast-room. " Ominous of evil say you 
 not so? ' 
 
 "I am not superstitious," said Ellen smiling; " besides, it refers lo 
 to-morrow, not to lo-Jay." 
 
 At the breakfast-table little was eaten and little was said. There 
 were happy faces there, but the joyous excitement of the preceding 
 evening had given place to deeper feeling. Many were in a few 
 hours to meet their beloved parents, from whom they had been sepa- 
 rated for several months; and all were expecting some friend to take 
 them to their respective homes. Our parting was not however to be 
 particularly painful, as all expected to meet again at the expiration ol 
 the vacation 
 
 As we were rising from the table a servant came in with the letters 
 which had arrived in the morning's mail. One was given to Ellen. 
 She broke the seal, and glancing at the contents, hastily placed it in 
 the hand of the governess and rushed up to her own room. I follow- 
 ed, and found her in tears, greatly agitated. Her emotion was too 
 great to allow her to tell me the cause. The governess came up and 
 gave me the letter to read, kindly saying at the same time that I had 
 better leave Ellen alone a few minutes, until the first burst of sorrow 
 hould be over, and then she would be in a betier state to listen to the 
 voice of consolation. 
 
 The letter was from her pa.ents-; brief, yet evidently written under
 
 382 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11, 
 
 Ellen. The dying bed. 
 
 the influence of stroi.g excitement. They Imd jusl heard of the sud 
 den and dangerous illness of their eldest son, a young gentleman oi 
 high promise, who had nearly completed his professional studies, 
 liis physicians gave not the slightest hope of his life. His parc.nl!! 
 made immediate preparations for leaving home, with the faint hope 
 that by rapid traveling they might be enabled to be with their belov. 
 ed child in his dying moments. They could not take Ellen with them, 
 and the best arrangement they could make for her, was to have her 
 remain where she then was until their return. 
 
 1 returned to Ellen, but found her scarcely more composed than 
 When 1 led her. To this brother she was most fondly attached. He 
 had written to her frequently, and taken a deep interest in her studies 
 and amusements, lie expected to have been at home during a part 
 of her vacation, and now the thought of never meeting him again was 
 agony. 1 knew not what to say; I could only weep with her, and 
 silently commend her to ' Him who healeth the broken in heart," en. 
 treating that she might be enabled submissively to say, " Thy will 
 be done." 
 
 My father consents that I should remain lor two or three days with 
 r.Uen. 1 know that more striking instances of the uncertainty of 
 earthly prospects are constantly occurring, but I tool that the scenes 
 of to-day have made an impression upon my own heart and the hearts 
 of my companions that can never be effaced. I shall never again 
 bear others planning with confidence for the future, without thinking 
 of poor Ellen's disappointment and affliction, and ol the text, "Boast 
 not myself of to-morrow, lor thou knowest not what a day may 
 bring forth." 
 
 The other narrative is more serious still in its subject. 
 Both might have been given with propriety as specimens 
 of Personal Journal*, though as they ilo noi give strictly 
 the personal history o( the writer, they may perhaps better 
 be inserted here. I admit this last the more readily, as the 
 thouuhts of the final account which we all must render 
 
 O 
 
 are Drought up very distinctly to vi^w by it, and thia 
 thought is a very proper one to be presented, now that 
 this volume is drawing to a close, as a means of fixing the 
 resolutions which I trust some of my readers at least have 
 formed, and stimulating to diligence in duty.
 
 Cll. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 383 
 
 'Hit: (lying bed. 
 
 THE DVING BED. 
 
 On Monday, a few minutes before breakfast, a messenger came to 
 me with a note from a gentleman whom 1 shall call Mr. A. whose 
 wile, the Saturday previous, was (aken suddenly ill. She became 
 worse and worse, until she was considered in a dangerous situation. 
 And now her husband addressed a note to me. requesting me to visit 
 his wife, ' for she is," said he, "as sick as she can well live." 
 
 Immediately after breakfast 1 hastened over to (heir house, and 
 found her very weak and luw. She seemed near her end. Having 
 understood that neither herself nor husband were professing Chris- 
 tia;.s, I attempted to point out to her without delay the way to be 
 saved, and directed her mind at once to the Savior of sinners. She 
 could just speak a few words in faint and broken whispers jusl 
 enough for me to ascertain her anxious and ngitated feelings. 1 en- 
 deavored to compose her mind, and to explain the feelings which 
 were becoming in us as sinners, when we look to the .-avior for par- 
 don and peace. She looked and listened with intense interest, and I 
 have seldom full, us 1 then did, the responsibility of trying to direj.t 
 any CMC, but especially any one in the immediate prospect of eternity, 
 to the Lamb of God, who takelh away the sins of the world 1 look- 
 ed to the Savior to help anil to guide me, to put such thoughts in my 
 heart and words in my mouth as he aw were necessary, and as woul J 
 be suited to the sick, and as 1 supposed, dying woman. I besought him 
 earnestly, in silence, that he would assist me in being faithful and 
 useful to her immortal soul. 
 
 After some few questions, and some remarks and quotations from 
 the Savior's words; at her request I engaged in prayer. Her hus- 
 band, one son about 12, another son about (> years, Hiid her youngest 
 child about IS months, were present. Several other icl.itions and 
 friends were also there. \V e kneeled around her bed-side and be- 
 sought the Lord for her. Occasionally the voice of prayer was inter- 
 rup'ed by the swoon into which she wa? falling every few minutes. 
 After a short prayer, we rose. All was silent except the sisrhii g 
 of her friends around her, tin; noise of the fan, and the catching ol 
 her breath as she recovered from a swoon. 
 
 After a lew minutes had elapsed, during which she seemed strug- 
 gling with sickness and with a tumult ol ft eling in her bosom, she 
 called the different members of her family around her. First to her 
 husband she addressed herself somewhat in these words: 
 
 " And now, my dear huM/aml. 1 hope yon will ke>p your resolution, 
 ind not let the next communion season pass without making a pro-
 
 384 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 11. 
 
 The dying bed. 
 
 fession.* I have been more lukewarm than you. If I had been as 
 much engaged as you have we should have both of us been mem- 
 bers of the church long ago, but 1 have held back. I hope you will 
 not fail to keep your resolution." 
 
 She then most affectionately bade him farewell, expressing the ten- 
 dcrest interest in his religious purposes, and in the hope of a happier 
 meeting in heaven. After a moment's pause she took her eldest son 
 by the hand and addressed him as follows: 
 
 " And now, my dear son William, I am going to leave you. Your 
 poor mother is going, and you will be left without father or mother in 
 the world:! but Mr. A. has always treated you as one of his own 
 children ; and if you will be good and obedient he will always be a 
 father to you. Be a good boy, my son, and God will take care 
 of you." 
 
 The poor little boy as he held his mother's hand in one of his own, 
 and covered his eyes with the other, wept and sobbed as though bit 
 heart would break. She then took her little Edward by the hand, and 
 bade him a similar and equally affecting adieu. 
 
 The youngest, about 18 months old, she requested to be laid upon a 
 pillow in her bosom. She tenderly embraced it, and all wept. 
 
 She then called for her mother-in-law, who was behind her, (the 
 bed standing in the middle of the room;) "And what shall I say to 
 you," said she " you have been a mother to me.'' She turned to a 
 gentleman who had been a long and valued friend, and who was now 
 at her side fanning her, and in tears, and taking his hand, expressed 
 her ardent affection and gratitude toward him for his kindness and at- 
 tention during their long acquaintance. She alluded to an interview 
 with him many years ago, and seemed most deeply affected in re- 
 membrance, as 1 thought, of some proofs of real fraternal kindness 
 which she then received from him. 
 
 She sent her last message to her parents, brothers and sisters, and 
 when her strength and voice failed her, she jusl uttered in a faint 
 whisper, 
 
 " Please to sing, ' Life is the time to serve the Lord.' " 
 
 A lady who was present, and whose eyes and heart were full, said, 
 
 " I would take another ' O for an overcoming faith !' " 
 
 The hymn book, however, was given to her husband, who read two 
 lines at a time of the hymn his wife had named, when all who could 
 ing, and whose emotions would allow it, joined in singing, until the 
 husband, completely overcome, dropped bis head, unable to proceed. 
 
 * They bad, at a communion service in their neighborhood, a short time before, 
 unitedly resolved to improve the next occasion, which was expected in a few weeks, 
 to connect themselves with the church, and eater upon all the duties of Christian lif 
 
 t He was the son of her former husband.
 
 Ch. 11.] PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT. 385 
 
 Moral aspects of what is seen and heard. Power of the pen. 
 
 Another then took the book, and as well as \ve could, with tcais and 
 faltering voices we closed the hymn. 
 
 As I read over my description of this scene, I am so struck with its 
 utter weakness, that I almost regret that I attempted to make it. 
 It made an impression upon my mind that I cannot transcribe. O 
 that the delusive hope of preparing for death upon a death-bed wcm 
 banished forever from the earth. 
 
 I have inserted the two foregoing specimens, in order 
 to bring up as distinctly as possible this principle, viz. 
 that in all your efforts at intellectual improvement you 
 ought to lock with special interest at the moral bearings 
 and relations of all which you read or hear. The heart 
 is the true seat both of virtue and happiness, and conse- 
 quently to affect the heart is the great ultimate object of 
 all that we do. The intellect then is only the avenue by 
 which the heart is to be reached, and you will derive not 
 only more benefit, but far greater pleasure from reflection 
 and writing, if you are accustomed to consider the moral 
 aspects and relations of every thing which you observe, 
 or of which you read or hear. 
 
 A great prominence has been given in this chapter to 
 the use of the pen, as a means of intellectual and moral 
 improvement. I assure my readers that the power of the 
 pen for such a purpose is not overrated. I am aware that 
 a great many persons, though they may approve what I 
 have said, will not make any vigorous and earnest efforts 
 to adopt the plan. Still more will probably begin a book 
 or two, but will soon forget their resolution, and leave 
 the half-finished manuscript in some neglected corner of 
 their desks finally abandoned. But if any should adopt 
 these plans, and faithfully prosecute them, they will find 
 that practice in expressing in their own language, with 
 the pen, such facts as they may learn, and such observa- 
 tions or reflections as they may make, will exert a most 
 powerful influence upon all the habits of the miivi, and 
 upon the whole intellectual character. 
 
 17
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 And now I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, 
 *liich is able to build you up and give you an inheritance among them 
 (hat are sanctified." 
 
 As I draw toward the close of this volume I think of 
 the influence which it is to exert upon the many who will 
 read it, with mingled emotions of hope and fear. I have 
 endeavored to state, and to illustrate as distinctly as I 
 could, the principles of Christian duty ; and if, my reader, 
 you have perused these pages with attention and care, 
 they must have boon the means of bringing very plainly 
 before your mind the question, whether you will or will 
 not confess and forsake your sins, and henceforth live to 
 God, that you may accomplish the great object for which 
 life was given. I shall say nothing, in tnese few conclud- 
 ing paragraphs, to those who have read thus far without 
 coming in heart to the Savior. If they have not been 
 persuaded ere this to do it, they would not be persuad-ed 
 by any thing which I have time and space now to say. I 
 have however, before ending this volume, a few parting 
 words for those who have accompanied me thus far, with 
 at least some attempt at self-application some desire to 
 cherish the feelings which I have endeavored to portray 
 some penitence for sin, and resolutions to perform the 
 duties which I have from time to time pressed upon them. 
 
 It is, if the Bible is true, a serious thing to have oppor- 
 tunity to read a religious book and more especially for 
 the young to have opportunity to read a practical treatise 
 on the duties of piety, written expressly for their use. 
 The time is coming when we shall look back upon all our 
 privileges, with sad reflections at the recollections of 
 those which we have not improved ; and it is sad for me to 
 think that many of those who shall have read these pages 
 will in a future, and perhaps not a very distant day, look
 
 Ch. 12.] CONCLUSION. 387 
 
 Responsibility of religious teachers, injury to be done by this book. 
 
 upon me as the innocent means of aggravating their suf- 
 ferings, by having assisted 10 bring them light, which 
 they nevertheless would not regard. This unpleasant part 
 of my responsibility I must necessarily assume. I share 
 it with every one who endeavors to lay before men the 
 principles of duty, and the inducements to the perfor- 
 mance of it. He who enlightens the path of piety, pro- 
 motes the happiness of those who are persuaded to walk 
 in it, but he is the innocent means of adding to the guilt 
 and misery of such as will still turn away. To one class 
 of persons, says Paul, " we are the savor of death unto 
 death, and to the other, the savor of life unto life." 
 
 It is not merely to those who absolutely neglect or re- 
 fuse to do their duty to God, that the ill consequences of 
 having neglected their privileges and means of improve- 
 ment will accrue. These consequences will be just as 
 sure to those who partially neglect them. I will suppose 
 that a younjr person, whose heart is in some degree re- 
 newed, and who has begun to live to God, hears of this 
 book and procures it to read. She feels desirous of cul- 
 tivating Christian principles, and she sits down to her 
 work with a sincere desire to derive spiritual benefit from 
 the instructions. She does not run over the pages, dis- 
 secting out the stories for the sake of the interest of the 
 narrative, and neglecting all the applications of them to 
 the purposes of instruction ; but she inquires when a fact 
 or an illustration is introduced, for what purpose it ia 
 used what moral lesson it is intended to teach and how 
 she can learn from it something to guide her in the dis- 
 charge of duty. She goes on in this manner through the 
 book, and generally understands its truths and the prin- 
 ciples? it inculcates. But she does not cordially art! in 
 full earnest engage in the practice of them. For exam- 
 ple, she reads the chapter on confession, and understands 
 what I mean by full confession of all sins to God, and 
 forms the vague and indefinite resolution to confess her
 
 388 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 12. 
 
 -> 
 
 Imperfect self-application. A useless way of reading. 
 
 sins more minutely tnan she has done ; but she does not, 
 in the spirit of that chapter, explore fully all her heart, 
 and scrutinize with an impartial eye all her conduct, that 
 every thing which is wrong may be brought to light, and 
 frankly confessed and abandoned. She does not, in a 
 word, make a serious and an earnest business of confess- 
 ing and forsaking all sin. 
 
 In another case, a young man who is perhaps sincerely 
 a Christian, though the influence of Christian principle 
 is yet weak in his heart, reads that portion of the work 
 which relates to the Sabbath. He knows that his Sab- 
 baths have not been spent in so pleasant or profitable a 
 manner as they might be, and he sees that the principles 
 pointed out there would guide him to duty and to happiness 
 on that day, if he would faithfully and perseveringly apply 
 them to his own case. He accordingly makes a feeble reso- 
 lution to do it. The first Sabbath after he reads the chap- 
 ter his resolutions are partially kept. But he gradually 
 neglects them, and returns to his former state of inaction 
 and spiritual torpor on God's holy day. Perhaps I ex- 
 press myself too strongly in speaking of inaction and 
 torpor as being a possible state of mind for a Christian on 
 the Sabbath; but it must be admitted that many approach 
 far too near to it. 
 
 Now there is no question that many Young Christians 
 will read this book in the manner I have above described; 
 that is, they throw themselves as it \verepassively before 
 it, allowing it to exert all the influence it will by its own 
 power, but doing very little in the way of vigorous effort 
 to obtain good from it. They seem to satisfy themselves 
 by giving the book an opportunity to do them good, but 
 do little to draw from it, by their own efforts, the advan- 
 tages which it might afford. Now a book of religious 
 instruction is not like a medicine, which, if it is once d- 
 mitted into the system, will produce its effect without any 
 farther effort on the part of the patient. It is a tool for
 
 Cl). 12.] CONCLUSION. 
 
 Effectual reading. Plan recommended. 
 
 yon to use industriously yourself. The moral powers 
 will not grow unless you cultivate them by your own ac- 
 tive efforts. If you satisfy yourself with merely bringing 
 moral and religious truth into contact with your mind, 
 expecting it, by its own power, to produce the hoped for 
 fruits, you will be like a farmer who should, in the spring, 
 just put a plough or two in one part of his field, and half 
 a dozen spades and hoes in another, and expect by this 
 means to secure a harvest. Many persons read religious 
 books continually, but make no progress in piety. The 
 reason is, their own moral powers are inert while they 
 xlo it. The intellect maybe active in reading and under- 
 standing the successive pages, but the heart and the con- 
 science lie still, hoping that the truth may of itself do 
 them good. They bring the instrument to the field and 
 lay it down, and stand by its side, wondering why it does 
 not do its work. 
 
 I beg my readers not to treat this volume in that way, 
 and not to suppose that simply reading and urderstand- 
 ing it, however thoroughly it may be done, will do them 
 any good. The book, of itself, never can do good. It is 
 intended to show its readers how they may do good to 
 themselves, and it will produce no good effect upon any 
 who are not willing to be active in its application and use. 
 
 Do you, my reader, really wish to derive permanent 
 and real benefit from this book? If so, take the following 
 measures ; it is a course which it would be well for you 
 always to take at the close of every book you read on 
 the subject of duty. Recall to mind all those passages 
 which, as you have read its pages, have presented to 
 you something which at the time you resolved to do. Re- 
 collect, if you can, every plan recommended, which, al 
 the time when you were reading it, seemed to be suited to 
 your own case, and which you then thought you should 
 adopt. If you have forgotten them, you can easily call 
 them to mind by a little effort, or by a cursory review.
 
 390 YOUNG CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 12. 
 
 Be in earnest. 
 
 You will thus bring up again to your minds those points 
 in which the instructions of the book are particularly 
 adapted to your own past history and present spiritual 
 condition. 
 
 After having thu? fully reconsidered the whole ground, 
 and gathered all the important points which are pecu- 
 liarly adapted to your own case into one view, consider 
 deliberately, before you finally close the book, what you 
 will do with regard to them. If any thing has been made 
 plain to be your duty, consider and decide distinctly whe- 
 ther you will do it or not. If any thing has been shown 
 to be conducive to your happiness, determine, deliberate- 
 ly and understandingly, whether you will adopt it or not. 
 Do not leave it to be decided by chance, or by your own 
 accidental feelings of energy or of indolence, what course 
 you will take in reference to a subject so momentous as 
 the questions of religious duty. I fear, however, that not- 
 withstanding all that I can say, very many, even among 
 the most thoughtful of my readers, will close this book 
 without deriving from it any permanent good, either in 
 their conduct or their hearts. It will have only produced 
 a few good intentions, which will never be carried into 
 effect, or aroused them to momentary effort, which will 
 soon yield again to indolence and languor. 
 
 There is no impression that I would more strongly de- 
 sire to produce in these few remaining pages, than that 
 you should be in earnest, in deep and persevering earnest, 
 in your efforts after holiness and salvation. If you are 
 interested enough in religion to give up the pleasures of 
 sin, you lose all enjoynent unless you grasp the happi- 
 ness of piety. There are, at the present day, great num- 
 bers in whose hearts religious principle has taken so 
 strong a hold as to awaken conscience and to destroy 
 their peace, if they continue to sin ; but they do not give 
 themselves up with all their hearts to the service of the 
 Savior. They feel, consequently, that they have lost the
 
 Ch. 12.] CONCLUSION. 391 
 
 A g;reat proportion of life e;one. 
 
 world ; they cannot be satisfied with its pleasures, and 
 they are unhappy, and feel that they are out of place 
 when in (he company of its votaries. But though they have 
 thrown themselves out of one home, they do not, in ear- 
 nest, provide themselves with another. They do not give 
 all the heart to God. No life is more delightful than one 
 spent in intimate communion with our Father above, and 
 in earnest and devoted efforts to please him by promoting 
 human happiness; and none is perhaps more unhappy, 
 and prepares more effectually for a melancholy dying 
 hour, than to spend our days with the path of duty plain 
 before us, and conscience urging us to walk in it, while 
 we hang back, and walk with a slow and hesitating step, 
 and look away wistfully at the fruits which we dare nol 
 tste. Do not take such a course as this. When you 
 abandon the world, abandon it entirely ; and when you 
 choose God and religion for your portion, do it with all 
 yo-ur heart. Outrun conscience in the path of duty, in- 
 stead of wailing to have your lagging steps quickened by 
 her scourge. 
 
 Once more. Much less of life is left to you than you 
 generally suppose. Perhaps the average age of the read- 
 ers of this book is between fifteen and twenty, and fifteen 
 or twenty years is probably, upon an average, half of life. 
 I call you young, because you are young in reference to 
 the active business of this world. You have just reached 
 tiie full development of your powers, and have conse- 
 quently but just begun the actual work of life. The long 
 years that arc past have been spent in preparation. Hence 
 you are called young you are said to be just beginning 
 life, understanding, by life, the pursuits and the business 
 of maturiiy. But life, if you understand by it the season 
 of preparation for eternity, is more than halt' gone ; life, 
 so I'm :is it | resents opportunities and facilities for peni- 
 tMice air) pardon so far as it bears on the formation of 
 char cier, and is to be considered as a period of proba-
 
 392 YOUNG CHRISTIAV. [Ch. 12. 
 
 Closing address to parents. 
 
 tion is unquestionably more than half gone to those 
 who are between fifteen and twenty. In a vast number 
 of cases it is more than half gone, even in duration, at 
 that time ; and if we consider the thousand influences 
 which crowd around the years of childhood and youth, 
 winning to piety, and making a surrender to Jehovah 
 easy and pleasant then, and on the other hand look for- 
 ward beyond the years of maturity, and see these influ- 
 ences losing all their power, and the heart becoming 
 harder and harder under the deadening effects of conti- 
 nuance in sin, we shall not doubt a moment that the 
 years of immaturity make a far more important part of 
 our time of probation than all those that follow. 
 
 You do right then, when you are thinking of your 
 business or your profession, to consider life as but begun ; 
 but when you look upon the great work of preparation 
 for another world, you might more properly consider it 
 as nearly ended. Almost all moral changes of character 
 are usually effected before the period at which you have 
 arrived, and soon all that will probably remain to you on 
 earth is to exemplify, for a few years, the character 
 which in early life you formed. If, therefore, you would 
 do any thing in your own heart for the cause of truth and 
 duty, you must do it in earnest, and must do it now. 
 
 I have intended this book chiefly for the young, but I 
 cannot close it without a word at parting to those of my 
 readers who have passed the period of youth. If the 
 work shall at all answer the purpose for which it is in- 
 tended, it will, in some instances at least, be read by the 
 mature ; and I may perhaps, without impropriety, ad- 
 dress a few words respectfully to them. 
 
 You are probably parents ; your children have been 
 reading ihis book, and you have rvrhaps taken it up be- 
 cause you are interested in vViatever interests them. 
 You feel also a very stron.r desire to promote their
 
 Ch. 12.] CONCLUSION. 393 
 
 Their co-operation. Ways in which they may co-operate. 
 
 piety, and this desire leads you to wish to hear, yourselves, 
 whatever on this subject is addressed to them. I have 
 several times in the course of this work intimated, that 
 the principles which it has been intended to illustrate 
 and explain, are equally applicable to young and old. 
 It has been adapted, in its style and manner only, to the 
 former class ; and I have hoped as I have penned its 
 pages, that a father might sometimes himself be affected 
 by truths which he was reading during a winter evening 
 to his assembled family ; or that a mother might take up 
 the book purchased for her children, and be led herself 
 to the Savior by a chapter which was mainly written for 
 the purpose of winning them. I do not intend, however, 
 to press here again your own personal duties. I have 
 another object in view. 
 
 That object is to ask you to co-operate fully and cor- 
 dially in this, and in all similar efforts to promote the 
 welfare of your children. If you have accompanied them 
 through this volume, you will know what parts of it are 
 peculiarly adapted to their condition and wants. These 
 parts you can do much to impress upon their minds by 
 your explanations, and by encouraging them to make the 
 efforts they require. The interest which a father or a 
 mother takes in such a book, is a pretty sure criterion 
 it is almost the very regulator of that felt by the child. 
 
 If you notice any thing in the volume which you think 
 erroneous, or calculated to lead to error ; or if there is 
 any fault which your child discovers and brings to you, 
 with a criticism which you feel to be just, do not deny or 
 attempt to conceal the fault because it occurs in a book 
 whose general object and aim you approve. Separate 
 the minute imperfections from the general object and de- 
 sign of the whole ; and while you freely admit a condem- 
 nation of the one, show that it does not affect the charac- 
 ter of the other, and thus remove every obstacle which 
 would impede what is the great design of the book, to
 
 394 VOTING CHRISTIAN. [Ch. 12. 
 
 Religious example of parents. 
 
 press the power of religious obligation in its most plain 
 anil simple form. 
 
 On the other hand, do not magnify the faults which you 
 may find, or think you find, or turn off the attention of 
 your children from the serious questions of duty which 
 the book is intended to bring before the conscience and 
 the heart, to a cold and speculative discussion of the 
 style, or the logic, or the phraseology of the author. A 
 religious book is in some degree entitled to the privilege 
 of a religious speaker. Parents easily can, on their walk 
 home from church, obliterate all serious impressions from 
 the minds of their children, by conversation which shows 
 that they are looking only at the literary aspects of the 
 performance to which they have listened. In the same 
 manner they can destroy the influence of a book, by 
 turning away attention from the questions of duty which 
 it brings up, to an inquiry into the logic of an argument, 
 or a comment upon the dullness or the interest of a story. 
 
 There is one thing more which I may perhaps with- 
 out impropriety say. Your religious influence over your 
 children will depend far more on your example than upon 
 your efforts to procure for them good religious instruc- 
 tion. They look to you for an exemplification of piety, 
 and if they do not see this, you cannot expect that they 
 will yield themselves to its principles on your recom- 
 mendation. Your children, too, must see piety exempli- 
 fied in a way which they can appreciate and understand. 
 To make vigorous efforts for the support of the Gospel 
 to contribute generously for the various benevolent 
 objects of the day and even to cultivate in your hours 
 of secret devotion the most heartfelt and abasing peni- 
 tence for sin, will not alone be enough to recommend 
 piety effectually to your children. They look at other 
 aspects of your conduct and character. They observe 
 the tone of kindness or of harshness with which you 
 speak the tranquillity or the irritation with which you
 
 Ch. 12.] CONCLUSION. 395 
 
 Blessing obtained by religious example. 
 
 bear the little trials and disappointments of life your 
 patience in suffering, and your calmness in danger. They 
 watch you to observe how faithfully you perform the or- 
 dinary duties of your station. They look with eager in- 
 terest into your countenance, to see with what spirit you 
 receive an injury, or rebuke what is wrong. 
 
 By making faithful and constant efforts to live like 
 Christians yourselves, and to exhibit to your children 
 those effects of piety upon your conduct and character 
 which they can understand and appreciate, and by adapt- 
 ing religious instruction to the peculiar intellectual habits 
 of the young, you may anticipate a sure and an abundant 
 blessing upon your labors. Childhood is a most fertile 
 part of the vineyard of the Lord. The seed which is 
 planted there vegetates very soon, and the weeds which 
 spring up are easily eradicated. It is in fact in every re- 
 spect an easy and a pleasant spot to till, and the flowers 
 and fruits which, with proper effort, will bloom and ripen 
 there, surpass all others in richness and beauty. 
 
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