THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Russell Hunter
 


 
 
 
 7 
 
 'W// 'Xvv^v.v. 
 
 /,,/,
 
 CHRISTIAN CHARITY 
 
 EXPLAINED ; 
 
 OR THE 
 
 INFLUENCE OF RELIGION UPON TEMPER 
 
 STATED ; 
 
 IN AN EXPOSITON OP THE THIRTEENTH CHAPTER OF 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE TO THE CORINTHIANS. 
 
 BY JOHN ANGELL JAMES, 
 
 Author of the Christian Fathers Present, ffc. Sfc. 
 
 "Truth and Love are two of the most powerful thing's in the world ; and when 
 they both go together, they cannot easily be withstood. The golden beams of Truth, 
 and the silken cords of Love, twisted together, will draw men on with a sweet 
 violence, whether they will or no." Cudicorth. 
 
 NEW- YORK I 
 
 PUBLISHED BY J. LEAVITT, 182 BROADWAY. . 
 
 t ^ 
 
 BOSTON : 
 CROCKER AND BREWSTER, 47 WASHINGTON-STREET. 
 
 1829.
 
 Friniod by Grjr Buuc*.
 
 PREFACE, 
 
 A WORK which the Author published a few years since, 
 on the Duties of Church Members, concludes with the 
 following sentence : " Let us remember, that HUMILITY 
 and LOVE are the necessary fruits of our doctrines, the 
 highest beauty of our character, and the guardian angels 
 of our churches." To prove and elucidate this senti- 
 ment, and to state at greater length than it was possible for 
 him to do in that treatise, the nature, operations, and im- 
 portance of CHARITY ; he was induced to enter upon a 
 series of Discourses on the chapter which is the subject of 
 this volume : These Discourses, were heard with much 
 attention, and apparent interest. Before they were fin- 
 ished, many requests were presented for their publication ; 
 a promise was given to that effect, and the intention an- 
 nounced to the Public. On a further inspection of his 
 notes, the Author saw so little that was either novel, or 
 on any account worthy to meet the public eye, that he 
 had for two years quite abandoned his intention of print- 
 ing. Circumstances which need not be mentioned, to- 
 gether with frequent inquiries from his friends after the 
 forthcoming treatise, drew his attention again to the sub- 
 ject a few months since, and revived the original purpose 
 of sending from the press the substance of these plain 
 and practical Discourses. That intention is now execut- 
 ed; with what results, the sovereign grace of Jehovah, to 
 which it is humbly commended, must determine. 
 
 The Author offers this volume primarily and chiefly t& 
 his own friends, to whom it is dedicated. He has, how- 
 ever, by publishing it, placed it within the reach of the 
 Public, though he can truly say, that he does not expect
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 much interest to be produced by his work, in the minds 
 of many, beyond those who are prepared, by friend- 
 ship, to value it above its intrinsic merits. One thing 
 is certain, the subject is confessedly important, and it 
 is as plain as it is important. It requires little argu- 
 ment to explain or to defend it ; and as for eloquence 
 to recommend and enforce it, the only power that can 
 render it effectual for practical benefit, is the demonstra- 
 tion of the Spirit : without this aid, a giant in literature 
 could do nothing, and the feeblest effort, by such assist- 
 ance, may be successful. Too much has not been said, 
 and cannot be said, about the doctrines of the Gospel ; 
 but too little may be said, and too little is said and 
 thought, about its spirit. To contribute something to- 
 wards supplying this deficiency in the treasures of the tem- 
 ple, the Author offers this small volume ; and though it be 
 but as the widow's two mites, yet, as it is all he has to 
 give, as it is given willingly, and with a desire to glorify 
 God, he humbly hopes that however it may be despised 
 by those, who he rejoices to know, are so much richer 
 than himself in intellectual and moral affluence, it will 
 not be rejected by him, who more regards the motive 
 than the amount of every offering that is carried to his altar. 
 The Author can easily suppose, that among many other 
 faults which the scrutinizing eye of criticism will dis- 
 cover in his work, and which its stern voice will con- 
 demn, one is the tautologies, of which, in some places, it 
 appears to be guilty. In answer to this, he can only re- 
 mark, that in the discussion of such a subject, where the 
 parts are divided by such almost imperceptible lines and 
 softened down so much into each other, he found it very 
 difficult to avoid this repetition, which, after all, is per- 
 haps not always a fault at least not a capital one. 
 Edgbaston, April 22, 1828.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 The occasion of Paul's description and enforcement of Christian 
 Charity 1 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 The Nature of Charity '. 9 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Christian Love is not to be confounded with that spurious can- 
 dour which consists in indifference to religious sentiment, or 
 connivance at sinful practices 34. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 The indispensable necessity of Christian Love 34 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 On the properties of Christian Love 50 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 The Meekness of Love 59 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 The Kindness of Love 73 
 
 CHAP VIII. 
 The Contentment of Love 81 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 The Humility of Love 90 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 The Decorum of Love 102 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 The Disinterestedness of Love 119 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 The Unsuspiciousness of Love 139
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 The Joy of Love 136 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 The Candour of Love 143 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 The Self-denial of Love 169 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 The Permanence of Love 177 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 The Pre-eminence of Love 201 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 Improvement 213 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 Improvement, by way of examination and humiliation 254 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 Improvement, by way of exhortation 266
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE OCCASION OF PAUL'S DESCRIPTION AND ENFORCE- 
 MENT OF CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 
 
 THE credibility of the Gospel, as a revelation from 
 heaven, was attested by miracles, as had been predict- 
 ed by the prophet Joel. " And it shall come to pass 
 afterwards, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, 
 and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your 
 old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see 
 visions ; and also upon the servants and the hand- 
 maidens in those days, I will pour out my Spirit." 
 This prophecy began to receive its accomplishment 
 when our Lord entered upon his public ministry, but 
 was yet more remarkably fulfilled, according to the 
 testimony of Peter, on the day of Pentecost, when the 
 disciples "were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and 
 began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave 
 them utterance ;" and still continued to be fulfilled till 
 the power of working miracles was withdrawn from 
 the Church. Our Lord Jesus Christ ceased not, dur- 
 ing his continuance on earth, to prove, by these splen- 
 did achievements, the truth of his claims as the Son 
 of God ; and constantly appealed to them in his con- 
 troversy with the Jews, as the reasons and the grounds 
 of faith in his communications. By him the power of 
 working miracles was conferred on his apostiCS- who, 
 
 2
 
 in the exercise of this extraordinary gift, cast out 
 demons, and " healed all manner of sickness, and all 
 manner of disease." Christ also assured them that, 
 under the dispensation of the Spirit, which was to 
 commence after his decease, their miraculous powers 
 should be so much enlarged and multiplied, as to ex- 
 ceed those which had been exercised by himself. This 
 took place on the day of Pentecost, when the ability 
 to speak all languages without previous study was con- 
 ferred upon them. The apostles, as the ambassadors 
 and messengers of their risen Lord, were authorized 
 and enabled to invest others with the high distinction ; 
 for, to confer the power of working miracles, was a 
 prerogative confined to the apostolic office. This is 
 evident from many parts of the New Testament. But 
 while apostles only could communicate this power, any 
 one, not excepting the most obscure and illiterate 
 member of the churches, could receive it ; as it was 
 not confined to Church officers, whether ordinary or 
 extraordinary. It is probable that these gifts were 
 sometimes distributed among all the original members 
 of a church : as the society increased, they were con- 
 fined to a more limited number, and granted only to 
 such as were more eminent among the brethren, till 
 at length they were probably confined to the elders ; 
 thus being as gradually withdrawn from the Church as 
 they had been communicated. 
 
 These miraculous powers were of various kinds, 
 which are enumerated at length in the epistle to the 
 Romans. " Having then gifts, differing according to 
 the grace that is given to us, whether prophecy, let us 
 prophesy according to the proportion (analogy) of 
 faith ; or mmistry, let us wait on our ministering : or 
 he that teacheth, on teaching ; or he that exhorteth, 
 on exhortation ; or he that giveth, let him do it with 
 simplicity ; he that ruleth, with diligence ; he that 
 showeth mercy, with cheerfulness." They are set 
 forth still more at length, in the twelfth chapter of the 
 first Epistle to the Corinthians. " Now there are di- 
 versities of gifts, but the same Spirit. And there are
 
 differences of administration, but the same Lord. And 
 there are diversities of operations, but it is the same 
 God which worketh all in all. But the manifestation 
 of the Spirit is given to every man to profit withal : 
 for to one is given by the. Spirit, the word of wisdom ; 
 to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit ; 
 to another, faith by the same Spirit ; to another the 
 working of miracles ; to another prophecy ; to another 
 discerning of spirits ; to another divers tongues ; to 
 another the interpretation of tongues." 
 
 It is not necessary that we should here explain the 
 nature, and trace the distinction, of these endowments 
 a task which has been acknowledged by all exposi- 
 tors to be difficult, and which is thought by some to 
 be impossible. But vague and general as is the idea 
 of them which we possess, we can form some concep- 
 tion of the strange and novel spectacle presented by a 
 society in which they were in full operation. They 
 constituted the light which fell from heaven upon the 
 Church, and to which she appealed, as the proofs of 
 her divine origin, it is not easy for us to conceive of 
 any thing so striking and impressive, as a community 
 of men thus remarkably endowed. We may entertain 
 a general, though not an adequate, idea of the spiritual 
 glory which shone upon an assembly, where one mem- 
 ber would pour forth, in strains of inspired eloquence, 
 the profoundest views of the divine economy, and 
 would be succeeded by another, who, in the exercise 
 of the gift of knowledge, would explain the mysteries 
 of truth, concealed under the symbols of the Jewish 
 dispensation ; where one, known perhaps to be illiter- 
 ate, would rise, and in a language which he had never 
 studied, descant, without hesitation and without em- 
 barrassment, on the sublimest topics of revealed truth ; 
 and would be followed by another, who, in the capaci- 
 ty of an interpreter, would render into the vernacular 
 tongue all that had been spoken ; where one would 
 heal the most inveterate diseases of the body with a 
 word, and another discern by a glance the secrets of 
 the mind, and disclose the hypocrisy which lurked un-
 
 der the veil of the most specious exterior. What 
 seeming confusion, and yet what real grandeur, must 
 have attended such a scene *? What were the disputa- 
 tions of the schools, the eloquence of the forum, or 
 the martial pomp, the accumulating wealth, the literary 
 renown of the Augustan age of the Roman Empire to 
 this extraordinary spectacle 1 Yea, what was the gor- 
 geous splendour of the temple of Solomon, in the 
 zenith of its beauty, compared with this 1 Here were 
 the tokens and displays of a present though invisible 
 Deity ; a glory altogether unearthly and inimitable, and 
 on that account the more remarkable. 
 
 For the possession and exercise of these gifts, the 
 Church af Corinth was eminently distinguished. This 
 is evident from the testimony of Paul, " I thank my 
 God always on your behalf, for the grace of God which 
 is given you by Christ Jesus ; that in everything ye are 
 enriched by him in all utterance, and in all knowledge ; 
 even as the testimony of Christ was confirmed in you : 
 so that ye come behind in no gift : and in another place 
 he asks them " What is it, wherein ye were inferior 
 to other Churches ?" It is, indeed, both a humiliating 
 and an admonitory consideration, that the Church 
 which, of all those planted by the Apostles, was the 
 most distinguished for its gifts, should have been the 
 least eminent for its graces ; for this was the case with 
 the Christian Society at Corinth. What a scandalous 
 abuse and profanation of the Lord's Supper had crept 
 in ! What a schismatical spirit prevailed ! What a 
 connivance at sin existed ! What resistance to apos- 
 tolic authority was set up ! 
 
 To account for this, it should be recollected, that 
 the possession of miraculous gifts by no means implied 
 the existence and influence of sanctifying grace. Those 
 extraordinary powers werg entirely distinct from the 
 qualities which are essential to the character of a real 
 Christian. They were powers conferred not at all, or 
 in a very subordinate degree, for the benefit of the in- 
 dividual himself, but were distributed according to the 
 sovereignty of the Divine will, for the edification of
 
 believers, and the conviction of unbelievers. Hence 
 saith the apostle, " Tongues are for a sign, not to 
 them that believe, but to them that believe not : but 
 prophesying serveth not for them that believe not, but 
 for them which believe. Our Lord has informed us, 
 that miraculous endowments were not necessarily con- 
 nected with, but were often disconnected from, per- 
 sonal piety. "Many will say unto me in that day, 
 Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name, and 
 in thy name done many wonderful works 1 And then 
 will I profess unto them, I never knew you ; depart 
 from me ye workers of iniquity." Paul supposes the 
 same thing in the commencement of this chapter, 
 where he says, " Though I speak with the tongues of 
 men, and of angels, and have not charity, I am become 
 as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And though 
 I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mys- 
 teries and all knowledge ; and though I have all faith, 
 so that I could remove mountains, and have not cha- 
 rity, I am nothing." This hypothetical mode of speech 
 certainly implies, that gifts and grace are not necessa- 
 rily connected. 
 
 This is a very awful consideration, and, by showing 
 how far self-deception may be carried, ought to be felt 
 as a solemn admonition to all professing Christians, to 
 be very careful and diligent in the great business of 
 self-examination. 
 
 It is evident, both from the nature of things, and 
 from the reasoning of the 'Apostle, that some of the 
 miraculous powers were more admired, and therefore 
 more popular, than others. The gift of tongues, as is 
 plain from the reasoning in the fourteenth chapter, 
 appears to have been most coveted, because eloquence 
 was so much cultivated by the Greeks : to reason and 
 declaim in public, as a talent, was much admired, and, 
 as a practice, was exceedingly common : schools were 
 established to teach the art, and places of public resort 
 were frequented to display it. Hence, in the Church 
 of Christ, and especially with those whose hearts were 
 2 *
 
 unsanctified by Divine grace, and who converted mira- 
 culous operations into a means of personal ambition, 
 the gift of tongues was the most admired of all these 
 extraordinary powers. A desire after conformity to 
 the envied distinctions of the world, has ever been the 
 snare and the reproach of many of the members of 
 the Christian community. 
 
 Where distinctions exist, many evils will be sure to 
 follow, as long as human nature is in an imperfect 
 state. Talents, or the power of fixing attention and 
 raising admiration, will be valued above virtues ; and 
 the more popular talents will occupy, in the estimate 
 of ambition, a higher rank than those that are useful. 
 Consequently, we must expect, wherever opportunities 
 present themselves, to see on the one hand, pride, van- 
 ity, arrogance, love of display, boasting, selfishness, 
 conscious superiority, and a susceptibility of offence ; 
 while on the other, we shall witness an equally offen- 
 sive exhibition of envy, suspicion, imputation of evil, 
 exultation over failures, and a disposition to magnify 
 and report offences. Such passions are not entirely 
 excluded from the Church of God, at least during its 
 militant state ; and they were most abundantly exhibit- 
 ed among the Christians at Corinth. Those who had 
 gifts, were too apt to exult over those that had none ; 
 while the latter indulged in envy, and ill-will toward 
 the former : those who were favoured with the most 
 distinguished endowments, vaunted of their achieve- 
 ments over those who attained only to the humbler 
 powers ; and all the train of the irascible passions was 
 indulged to such a degree, as well nigh to banish Chris- 
 tian love from the fellowship of the faithful. This un- 
 happy state of things the Apostle found it necessary to 
 correct, which he did by a series of most conclusive 
 arguments ; such, for instance, as that all these gifts 
 are the bestowments of the Spirit, who in distributing 
 them exercises a wise but irresponsible sovereignty 
 that they are all bestowed for mutual advantage, and 
 not for personal glory that this variety is essential to
 
 general edification that the useful ones are to be more 
 valued than those of a dazzling nature that they are 
 dependent on each other for their efficiency ; and he 
 then concludes his expostulation and representation, 
 by introducing to their notice that heavenly virtue 
 which he so beautifully describes in the chapter under 
 consideration, and which he exalts in value and impor- 
 tance above the most coveted miraculous powers. 
 " Now, ye earnestly desire (for the words should be 
 rendered indicatively, and not imperatively,) the best 
 gifts, but yet I show unto you a more excellent way." 
 " Ye are ambitious to obtain those endowments which 
 shall cause you to be esteemed as the most honourable 
 and distinguished persons in the Church ; but, notwith- 
 standing your high notions of the respect due to those 
 who excel in miracles, I now point out to you a way to 
 still greater honour, by a road open to you all, and in 
 which your success will neither produce pride in your- 
 selves, nor excite envy in others. FOLLOW AFTER 
 CHARITY, for the possession and exercise of this grace 
 is infinitely to be preferred to the most splendid gift." 
 
 Admirable encomium exalted eulogium on Charity ! 
 What more could be said, or be said more properly, 
 to raise it in our esteem, and to impress it upon our 
 heart ] The age of miracles is past ; the signs, and 
 the tokens, and the powers which accompanied it, and 
 which, like brilliant lights from heaven, hung in bright 
 effulgence over the Church, are vanished. No longer 
 can the members or ministers of Christ confound the 
 mighty, perplex the wise, or guide the simple inquirer 
 after truth, by the demonstration of the Spirit, and of 
 power : the control of the laws of nature, and of the 
 spirits of darkness, is no longer intrusted to us ; but 
 that which is more excellent and more heavenly re- 
 mains : that which is more valuable in itself, and less 
 liable to abuse, continues ; and that is, CHARITY. 
 Miracles were but the credentials of Christianity, but 
 CHARITY is its essence ; miracles but its witnesses, 
 which, having ushered it into the world, and borne their
 
 8 
 
 testimony, retired for ever; but CHARITY is its very 
 soul, which, when disencumbered of all that is earthly, 
 shall ascend to its native seat the paradise and the 
 presence of the eternal God,
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE NATURE OP CHARITY. 
 
 IN the discussion of every subject, it is of great im- 
 portance to ascertain, and to fix with precision, the 
 meaning of the terms by which it is expressed ; more 
 especially in those cases where, as in the present in- 
 stance, the principal word has acquired, by the changes 
 of time and usages of society, more senses than one. 
 Formerly, the English word charity signified good-will 
 or benevolence : when restricted to this meaning, it 
 was significant enough of the Greek term employed by 
 the Apostle in this chapter ; but in modern times the 
 word charity is often employed to signify almsgiving 
 a circumstance which has thrown a partial obscurity 
 over many passages of Scripture, and has led, indeed, 
 to the most gross perversion of Divine truth and the 
 circulation of the most dangerous errors. That the 
 charity which is the subject of the present treatise can- 
 not mean almsgiving, is evident from the assertion of 
 the Apostle, where he says " Though I give all my 
 goods to feed the poor, and have not charity, it profit- 
 eth me nothing." The meaning of the term is LOVE, 
 and so it is rendered in many other passages of the 
 New Testament ; such, for instance, as the following : 
 -*-" Love worketh no ill to its neighbour." " The
 
 10 
 
 fruit of the Spirit is love." " Love is the fulfilling of 
 the law." " Faith which worketh by love." It is the 
 same word in all these texts, which in the present chap- 
 ter, and in the following passages, is rendered charity. 
 " The end of the commandment is charity." " Cha- 
 rity covereth a multitude of sins." The employment 
 of the term charity, instead of love, in the last quoted 
 passage, is peculiarly to be regretted, as, in consequence 
 of the modern meaning attached to it, many have taken 
 up the false and dangerous notion, that pecuniary libe- 
 rality to the poor will make an atonement for human 
 guilt ; an error which could have had no countenance 
 from Scripture, had the word been rendered as it is in 
 other places. " Love covereth a multitude of sins." 
 This is not the only case in which our translators, by 
 the capricious employment in different places of two 
 English words for the same Greek term, have helped 
 to confuse the English reader of the Holy Scriptures. 
 
 We shall in this treatise substitute for charity the 
 word LOVE, which is a correct translation of the origi- 
 nal. If, however, the word charity should 'be occa- 
 sionally used to avoid a too frequent repetition of love, 
 we beg that it may be understood as synonymous with 
 that term. 
 
 Of what kind of love does the Apostle treat 1 Not 
 of love to God, as is evident from the whole chapter ; 
 for the properties which are here enumerated have no 
 direct reference to Jehovah, but relate in every instance 
 to man. It is a disposition founded, no doubt upon 
 love to God, but it is not the same. 
 
 Nor is it, as many have represented, the love of the 
 brethren. Without all question, we are under special 
 obligations to love those who are the children of God, 
 and joint heirs with us in Christ. " This is my com- 
 mandment," says Christ, " that ye love one another." 
 " By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, 
 if ye love one another." Our brethren in Christ 
 should be the first and dearest objects of our regard. 
 Love to tliem is the badge of discipleship the proof, 
 both to ourselves and to the world, that we have passed
 
 11 
 
 from death unto life. And although we are " to do 
 good to all men," yet we are especially to regard " the 
 household of faith/' But still, brotherly love, or the 
 love of the brethren as such, is not the disposition, any 
 otherwise than as included in it, which is here en- 
 joined. 
 
 A far more comprehensive duty is laid down, which 
 
 is LOVE TO MANKIND IN GENERAL. As a proof of this 
 
 I refer to the nature of its exercises. Do they not as 
 much respect the unconverted as the converted ; the 
 unbeliever as the believer 1 Are we not as much 
 bound to be meek and kind, humble, forgiving, and 
 patient, towards all men, as we are towards our bre- 
 thren 1 ? Or, may we be envious, passionate, proud, 
 and revengeful, towards "those that are without," 
 though not towards those "that are within?" We 
 have only to consider the operations and effects of love 
 as here described, and to recollect that they are as 
 much required in our intercourse with the world, as 
 with the Church, to perceive at once, that it is love to 
 man, as such, that is the subject of this chapter. Nor 
 is this the only place where universal philanthropy is 
 enjoined. The Apostle Peter, in his chain of graces, 
 makes this the last link, and distinguishes it from 
 " brotherly kindness," to which, says he, add " chari- 
 ty," or, as it should be rendered, " love." The dis- 
 position inculcated in this chapter is, that love which 
 Peter commands us to add to brotherly kindness ; it is, 
 in fact, the very state of mind which is the compendium 
 of the second table of the moral law, " Thou shalt 
 love thy neighbour as thyself." 
 
 The temper so beautifully set forth by Paul, is a 
 most lively, luminous and eloquent exposition of this 
 summary of duty to our neighbour, which is given us 
 by our Lord. 
 
 Strange, indeed, would it be, if Christianity, the 
 most perfect system, of duty as well as of doctrine, 
 that God ever gave to the world, should contain no 
 injunction to cultivate a spirit of general good-will. 
 Strange, indeed, if that system, which rises upon the
 
 12 
 
 earth with the smiling aspect of universal benevolence, 
 did not breathe its own spirit into the hearts of its be- 
 lievers. Strange, indeed, if, while God loved the world, 
 and Christ died for it, the world in no sense was to be 
 an object of a Christian's regard. Strange, indeed, if 
 the energies, the exercises, and propensities of true 
 piety, were to be confined within the narrow bound- 
 aries, of the Church, and to be allowed no excursions 
 into the widely extended regions that lie beyond, and 
 have no sympathies for the countless millions by which 
 these regions are peopled. It would have been re- 
 garded as a blank in Christianity, as a deep wide chasm, 
 had philanthropy gained no place, or but a small one, 
 amidst its duties ; and such an omission must ever 
 have presented a want of harmony between its doc- 
 trines and its precepts ; a point of dissimilarity between 
 the perfection of the divine, and the required com- 
 pleteness of the human, character. Here, then, is 
 the disposition inculcated : a spirit of universal love ; 
 good will to man ; a delight in human happiness ; a 
 carefulness to avoid whatever would lessen, and to do 
 whatever would increase, the amount of the felicity of 
 mankind : a love that is limited to no circle ; that is 
 restricted by no partialities, no friendships, no relation- 
 ships ; around which neither prejudices nor aversions 
 are allowed to draw a boundary; which realizes, as its 
 proper objects, friends, strangers, and enemies ; which 
 requires no recommendation of any one but that he is 
 a man, and which searches after man wherever he is 
 to be found. It is an affection which binds its pos- 
 sessor to all of his kind, and makes him a good citi/en 
 of the universe. We must possess domestic affections, 
 to render us good members of a family ; we must hu 
 the more extended principles of patriotism, to rend 
 us good members of the state ; and for the same rea- 
 son, we must possess universal benevolence, to render 
 us good members of a system which comprises the 
 whole human race. This is the generic virtue, the 
 one simple principle out of which so many and such 
 beautiful ramifications of holy benevolence evolve.
 
 13 
 
 All the actings of love, so finely described by the Apos- 
 tle, may be traced up to this delight in happiness : they 
 all consist in doing that which will promote the comfort 
 of others, or in not doing that which will hinder their 
 peace ; whether they consist in passive or in active 
 properties, they have a direct bearing on general well- 
 being. 
 
 It will be proper to remark here, that by universal 
 benevolence, we mean nothing that bears the most 
 distant resemblance to the spurious philanthropy ad- 
 vocated some few years since by a school of modern 
 infidels, who resolved all virtue into a chimerical passion 
 for the public good ; and the characteristic feature of 
 whose system it was, to build up general benevolence 
 on the destruction of individual tenderness. Reason 
 and revelation unite in teaching us, that in the de- 
 velopement of the passions we must advance from the 
 private to public affections, and that extended benevo- 
 lence is the last and most perfect fruit of individual 
 regards. 
 
 But although we represent this love as consisting in 
 a principle of universal benevolence, we would remark, 
 that instead of satisfying itself with mere speculations 
 on the desirableness of the well-being of the whole, or 
 with mere good wishes for the happiness of mankind 
 in general ; instead of that indolent sentimentalism, 
 which would convert its inability to benefit the great 
 body into an excuse for doing good to none of its mem- 
 bers ; it will put forth its energies, and engage its ac- 
 tivities, for those which are within its reach : it would, 
 if it could, touch the extreme parts ; but as this cannot 
 be done, it will exert a beneficial influence on those 
 which are near ; its very distance from the circumfer- 
 ence will be felt as a motive to greater zeal in promot- 
 ing the comfort of all that may be contiguous ; and it 
 will consider that the best and only way of reaching the 
 last, is by an impulse given to what is next. It will 
 view every individual it has to do with as a representa- 
 tive of his species, and consider him as preferring strong 
 claims, both on his own account and on the account of 
 
 3
 
 14 
 
 his race. Towards all, it will retain a feeling of good- 
 will, a preparedness for benevolent activity ; and to- 
 wards those who come within the sphere of its influ- 
 ence, it will go forth in the actings of kindness. Like 
 the organ of vision, it can dilate, to comprehend, 
 though but dimly, the whole prospect ; or it can con- 
 tract its view, and concentrate its attention upon each 
 individual object that comes under its inspection. The 
 persons with whom we daily converse and act, are 
 those on whom our benevolence is first and most con- 
 stantly to express itself, because these are the parts of 
 the whole, which give us the opportunity of calling 
 into exercise our universal philanthropy. But to them 
 it is not to be confined, either in feeling or action ; for, 
 as we have opportunity, we are to do good to all men, 
 and send abroad our beneficent regards to the great 
 family of man. 
 
 Nor are we to confound this virtue with a mere na- 
 tural amiableness of disposition. It is often our lot to 
 witness a species of philanthropy which, like the paint- 
 ing or the bust, is a very near resemblance of the ori- 
 ginal ; but which still is only a picture, or a statue, 
 that wants the mysterious principle of life. From that 
 mere good-will to man, which even unconverted per- 
 sons may possess, the love described by the Apostle 
 differs in the following particulars. 
 
 1. It is one of the fruits of regeneration. " The fruit 
 of the Spirit is love." Unless a man be born of the 
 Spirit, he can do nothing that is spiritually good. We 
 are by nature corrupt and unholy destitute of all love 
 to God and till renewed by the Holy Ghost in the 
 spirit of our mind, we can do nothing well pleasing to 
 God. " If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature ;" 
 and this love of our species is a part of the new crea- 
 tion. It is, in the strictest sense of the term, a holy 
 virtue, and one great branch of holiness itself; for 
 what is holiness, but love to God, and love to man 1 
 And without that previous change which is denominat- 
 ed being " born again,*' we can no more love man as 
 we ought to do, than we can love God. Divine grace
 
 IS 
 
 is as essentially necessary for the production and the 
 exercise of philanthropy, as it is for piety ; and the 
 former is no less a part of religion than the latter. 
 Love is the Divine nature, the image of God, which is 
 communicated to the soul of man by the renewing in- 
 fluence of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 2. This love is the effect of faith : hence it is said by 
 the Apostle, " In Christ Jesus neither circumcision 
 availeth any thing, nor uncircumcision, but faith which 
 worketh hy love." And by another inspired writer, it is 
 represented as a part of the superstructure which is rais- 
 ed on the basis of faith : " Add to your faith love." It 
 is certain that there can be no proper regard to man, 
 which does not result from faith in Christ. It is the 
 belief of the truth which makes love to be felt as a 
 duty, and which brings before the mind the great ex- 
 amples, the powerful motives, furnished by the Scrip- 
 tures to promote its exercise. Nothing spiritually ex- 
 cellent can be performed without faith. It is by faith 
 alone, that anything we do is truly and properly reli- 
 gion : this is the identifying Christian principle, separate 
 and apart from which, whatever excellence men may 
 exhibit, is but mere morality. By faith we submit to 
 the authority of God's law ; by faith we are united to 
 Christ, and " receive from his fulness and grace for 
 grace ;" by faith we contemplate the love of God in 
 Christ ; by faith our conduct becomes acceptable to 
 God through Christ. 
 
 3. This love is exercised in obedience to the authority 
 of God's word. It is a principle, not merely a feeling ; 
 it is cultivated and exercised as a duty, not yielded to 
 merely as a generous instinct ; it is a submission to 
 God's command, not merely an indulgence of our own 
 propensities; it is the constraint of conscience, not 
 merely the impulse of constitutional tenderness. It 
 may be, and often is, found where there is no natural 
 softness or amiableness of temper : where this exists, 
 it will grow with greater rapidity, and expand to greater 
 magnitude, and flourish in greater beauty, like the 
 mountain ash in the rich mould of the valley ; but it
 
 16 
 
 still may be planted, like that noble tree, in a less con- 
 genial situation, and thrive, in obedience to the law of 
 its nature, amidst barrenness and rocks. Multitudes, 
 who have nothing of sentimentalism in their nature, 
 have love to man ; they rarely can melt into tears, or 
 kindle into rapture but they can be all energy and 
 activity for the relief of misery, and for the promotion 
 of human happiness : their temperament of mind par- 
 takes more of the frigid than of the torrid, and their 
 summer seasons of the soul are short and cold ; but 
 still, amidst their mild and even lovely winter, charity, 
 like the rose of Paestum, blooms in fragrance and in 
 beauty. This is their motto" God has commanded 
 me to love my neighbour as myself; and in obedience 
 to him I restrain my natural tendency, and forgive the 
 injuries, and relieve the miseries, and build up the com- 
 fort, and hide the faults, of all around me." 
 
 4. It is founded upon, and grmcs out of love to God. 
 We are to love God for his own sake, and men for 
 God's sake. Our Lord has laid down this as the order 
 and rule of our affections. We must first love God 
 with all our heart, and soul, and mind, and then our 
 neighbour as ourselves. Now, there can be no proper 
 religious affection for our neighbour, which does not 
 spring out of supreme regard for Jehovah ; since our 
 love to our neighbour must respect him as the offspring 
 and workmanship of God : " and if we love not him 
 that begat, how can we love him that is begotten of 
 him ?" Besides, as we are to exercise this disposition 
 in obedience to the authority of God, and as no obedi- 
 ence to his authority can be valuable in itself, or accept- 
 able to him, which is not an operation of love, no kind- 
 ness to our neighbour can come up to the nature of the 
 duty here enjoined, which does not arise out of a pro- 
 per state of heart towards God. We love any thing 
 more truly and properly, the more explicitly we acknow- 
 ledge and love God in it ; upon the view of those strokes 
 and lineaments of the divine beauty, and the characters 
 of his glory, which are discernible in all his creatures, 
 our love should someway be commensurate with tho
 
 17 
 
 occasion, and comprehend the universe in its large and 
 complacential embraces. Though, as any thing is of 
 higher excellency, and hath more lively touches and 
 resemblances of God upon it, or, by the disposition of 
 his providence and law, more nearly approaches us, 
 and is more immediately presented to our notice, con- 
 verse, use, or engagement ; so our love should be to- 
 wards it more explicitly, in a higher degree, or with 
 more frequency. As man, therefore, hath in him more 
 of divine resemblance of God's natural likeness and 
 image good men, of his moral holy image we ought 
 to love men more than the inferior creatures, and those 
 that are good and holy more than other men ; and 
 those with whom we are more concerned, with a more 
 definitive love, and which is required to be more fre- 
 quent in its exercise : but all from the attractive of 
 somewhat divine appearing in the object. So that all 
 rational love, or that is capable of being regulated and 
 measured by a law, is only so far right in its own kind, 
 as we love God in everything, and everything upon his 
 account, and for his sake. The nature and spirit of 
 man is, by the apostacy, become disaffected and strange 
 to God alienated from the divine life addicted to a 
 particular limited good, to the creature for itself, apart 
 from God ; whereupon the things men love are their 
 idols, and men's love is idolatry. But when, by rege- 
 neration, a due propension towards God is restored, 
 the universal good draws their minds ; they become 
 inclined and enlarged towards it ; and, as that is diffused, 
 their love follows it, and flows towards it everywhere. 
 They love all things principally in and for God ; and 
 therefore such men most, as excel in goodness, and in 
 whom the Divine image more brightly shines.* 
 
 Let us, then, remember that the beautiful superstruc- 
 ture of philanthropy, which the Apostle has raised in 
 this chapter, has for its foundation a supreme regard 
 for the great and blessed God. The utmost kindness 
 and sympathy; the most tender compassion, united 
 
 * HOWE on Charity in Reference to other Men's Sins. 
 
 3*
 
 18 
 
 with the most munificent liberality ; if it do not rest on 
 the love of God, is not the temper here set forth is 
 not the grace which has the principle of immortality 
 in its nature, and which will live and flourish in eternity, 
 when faith and hope shall cease. Human excellence, 
 however distinguished, whatever good it may diffuse 
 upon others, or whatever glory it may draw around 
 itself, if it be not sanctified and supported by this holy 
 principle, is corruptible and mortal, and cannot dwell 
 in the presence of God, nor exist amidst the glories 
 of eternity ; but is only the flower of the grass which 
 shall wither away in the rebuke of the Almighty. For 
 want of this vital and essential principle of all true reli- 
 gion, how much of amiable compassion, and of tender 
 attention to the woes of humanity how much of 
 kindly feeling and active benevolence, is daily ex- 
 pended, which, while it yields its amiable though unre- 
 newed professor much honour and delight, has not the 
 weight of a feather in the scales of his eternal destiny. 
 
 5. This disposition is cherished in our heart, by a sense 
 of God's love in Christ Jesus to its. 
 
 There is this peculiarity in the morality of the New 
 Testament ; it is not only enforced by the considera- 
 tion of Divine power, but by a distinct and repeated 
 reference to Divine goodness. Not that any motive is 
 absolutely necessary to make a command binding upon 
 our conscience, beyond God's right to issue it ; the ob- 
 ligation to duty is complete, in the absence of every 
 other consideration than the rightful authority of the 
 command: but as man is a creature capable of being 
 moved by appeals to his gratitude, as well as by motives 
 addressed to his fear, it is both wise and condescending, 
 on the part of Jehovah, thus to deal with him, and to 
 " make him willing in the day of his power." He thus 
 not only drives us by the force of his terrors, but draws 
 us by the cords of his love. 
 
 The great evangelical inducement to mutual affec- 
 tion between man and man, is God's love in Christ 
 Jesus to us. God has commended and manifested his 
 love to us in a manner that will fill immensity and eter-
 
 nity with astonishment : He has " so loved the world 
 as to give his only begotten Son, that whosoever be- 
 lieveth in him should not perish, but have everlasting 
 life." This stupendous exhibition of Divine mercy is 
 presented by the sacred writers, not only as a source 
 of strong consolation, but also as a powerful motive to 
 action ; we are not only to contemplate it for the pur- 
 pose of joy, but also of imitation. Mark the beautiful 
 reasoning of the apostle John " Herein is love, not 
 that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his 
 Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if 
 God so loved us, we ought also to love one another." 
 Similar to this is also the inference of Paul " And be 
 ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one 
 another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven 
 you. Be ye therefore followers (imitators) of God, as 
 dear children, and walk in love as Christ who hath 
 loved us, and hath given himself for us an offering and 
 a sacrifice to God, for a sweet smelling savour." How 
 forcible, yet how tender, is such language ! there is a 
 charm in such a motive, which no terms can describe. 
 The love of God, then, in its existence and arrange- 
 ments from eternity ; in its manifestation in time by the 
 cross of our Lord Jesus Christ ; in its topless height, 
 its fathomless depth, its measureless length and breadth ; 
 is the grand inducement to universal affection : and 
 is it not enough to soften a heart of stone to melt a 
 heart of ice 1 The love spoken of in the chapter under 
 consideration, is that impulse towards our fellow-men 
 which is given us by the cross of Christ : it is not mere 
 natural kindness, but it is love for Christ's sake ; it is 
 not the mere operations of a generous temper, but it is 
 the feeling which moved in the Apostle's breast, when 
 he exclaimed, " The love of Christ constraineth us;" 
 it is not natural religion, but Christianity ; it is, so to 
 speak, a plant which grows on Calvary, and entwines 
 itself for support around the cross. It is a disposition 
 which argues in this way : "Has God indeed thus loved 
 me, so as to give his Son for my salvation 1 and is he 
 kind to me daily for the sake of Christ 1 Has he for-
 
 20 
 
 given all my numberless and aggravated transgressions! 
 Does he still, with infinite patience, bear with all my 
 infirmities and provocations 1 Then what is there, in 
 the way of most generous affection, I ought not to be 
 willing to do, or to bear, or to sacrifice, for others ? Do 
 they offend me, let me bear with them, and forgive them ; 
 for how has God forborne with me, and blotted out my 
 sins ? Do they want, let me be forward to supply their 
 necessities ; for how has God supplied mine !" Here, 
 then, is love that deep sense of God's love to us, which 
 shows us the necessity, the reasonableness, the duty, 
 of being kind to others ; the feeling of a heart, which, 
 labouring under the weight of its obligations to God, 
 and finding itself too poor to extend its goodness to 
 him, looks round, and gives utterance to its exuberant 
 gratitude in acts of kindness to man. 
 
 6. It is that goodwill to man which, while its proxi- 
 mate object is the welfare of our fellow-creatures, is ulti- 
 mately directed to the glory of God. 
 
 It is the sublime characteristic of every truly Christian 
 virtue, that whatever inferior ends it may seek, and 
 through whatever intervening medium it may pass, it is 
 directed ultimately to the praise of Jehovah : it may 
 put forth its excellencies before the admiring eyes of 
 mortals, and exert its energies for their happiness ; but 
 neither to attract their applause, nor to build up their 
 interests, must be its highest aim. The rule of our 
 conduct, as to its chief end, is thus explicitly and com- 
 prehensively laid down : " Whether therefore ye eat 
 or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of 
 God." This is not mere advice, but a command and 
 it is a command extending to all our conduct. To 
 glorify God is to act so as that his authority shall be 
 recognized and upheld by us in the world ; it is to be 
 seen submitting to his will, and behaving so as that his 
 word and ways shall be better thought of by man- 
 kind. Our actions must appear to have a reference 
 to God ; and without this, they cannot partake of the 
 character of religion, however excellent and beneficial 
 they may seem.
 
 21 
 
 But perhaps this disposition of mind will be best 
 illustrated by exhibiting an example of it ; and where 
 shall we find one suited to our purpose 1 Every mind 
 will perhaps immediately revert to HIM who was love 
 incarnate ; and we might indeed point to every action 
 of his benevolent career as a display of the purest 
 philanthropy : but as his example will hereafter be 
 considered, we shall now select one from men of like 
 passions with ourselves ; but we must go for it to " the 
 chamber where the good man meets his fate," rather 
 than to the resorts of the healthy and the active ; for 
 it seems as if the brightest beauties of this love were 
 reserved, like those of the setting sun, for the eve of 
 its departure to another hemisphere. How often have 
 we beheld the dying Christian, who, during long and 
 mortal sickness, has exhibited, as he stood on the verge 
 of heaven, something of the spirit of a glorified im- 
 mortal. The natural infirmities of temper, which at- 
 tended him through life, and which sometimes dimmed 
 the lustre of his piety, disquieted his own peace, and 
 lessened the pleasure of his friends, had all departed, 
 or had sunk into ihe shade of those holy graces which 
 then stood out in bold and commanding relief upon 
 his soul. The beams of heaven now falling upon his 
 spirit were reflected, not only in the faith that is the 
 confidence of things not seen not only in the hope 
 which entereth within the vail, but in the love which 
 is the greatest in the trinity of Christian virtues. How 
 lowly in heart did he seem how entirely clothed with 
 humility ! Instead of being puffed up with anything of 
 his own, or uttering a single boasting expression, it was 
 like a wound in his heart to hear any one remind him 
 either of his good deeds or dispositions ; and he ap- 
 peared in his own eyes less than ever, while, like his 
 emblem, the setting sun, he expanded every moment 
 into greater magnitude in the view of every spectator. 
 Instead of envying the possessions or the excellencies 
 of other men, it was a cordial to his departing spirit 
 that he was leaving them thus distinguished : how kind 
 was he to his friends ! and as for enemies, he had
 
 22 
 
 none ; enmity had died in his heart, he forgave all that 
 was manifestly evil, and kindly interpreted all that was 
 only equivocally so. Nothing lived in his recollection, 
 as to the conduct of others, but their acts of kindness. 
 When intelligence reached his ear of the misconduct 
 of those who had been his adversaries, he grieved in 
 spirit, even as he rejoiced when told of their coming 
 back to public esteem by deeds of excellence. His 
 very opinions seemed under the influence of his love ; 
 and, as he wished well, he believed well, or hoped well, 
 of many of whom he had formerly thought evil. His 
 meekness and patience were touching, his kindness 
 indescribable ; the trouble he gave, and the favours he 
 received, drew tears from his own eyes, and were ac- 
 knowledged in expressions that drew tears from all 
 around. There was an ineffable tenderness in his 
 looks, and his words were the very accents of benigni- 
 ty. He lay a pattern of all the passive virtues ; and 
 having thus thrown off much that was of the earth, 
 earthly, ant! put on charity as a garment, and dressed 
 himself for heaven, in its ante -chamber, his sick room, 
 he departed to be with Christ, and to be for ever per- 
 fect in love. 
 
 There was a man in whom this was realized, and 
 some extracts from his invaluable Memoir will prove 
 it; I mean Mr. SCOTT, the author of the Commentary. 
 
 " His mind," says his biographer, "dwelt much upon 
 love : God is love, and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth 
 in God, and God in him. Faith worketh by love. He 
 seemed full of tenderness and affection to all around 
 him. ' One evidence,' he said, * I have of meetness 
 for heaven : I feel much love to all mankind to every 
 man upon earth to those who have most opposed and 
 slandered me,' To his servant he said, ' 1 thank you 
 for all your kindness to me, If at any time I have 
 been hasty and short, forgive me, and pray to God 
 to forgive me ; but lay the blame upon we, not upon 
 religion.'" 
 
 " His tender affection for us all is astonishing in such 
 a state of extreme suffering, and cuts us to the heart.
 
 23 
 
 He begged his curate to forgive him, if he had been 
 occasionally rough and sharp. * I meant it for your 
 good, but, like every thing of mine, it was mixed with 
 sin ; impute it not, however, to my religion, but to my 
 want of religion.' He is so gentle and loving it is so 
 delightful to attend upon him, that his servants, find- 
 ing themselves in danger of contention which should 
 wait upon him, agreed to take it by turns, that each 
 might have her due share of the pleasure and benefit ; 
 and yet he is continually begging our forgiveness for 
 his want of patience and thankfulness. His kindness 
 and affection to all who approached him were carried 
 to the greatest height, and showed themselves in a sin- 
 gularly minute attention to all their feelings, and, what- 
 ever might be for their comfort, to a degree that was 
 quite affecting especially when he was suffering so 
 much himself, often in mind as well as body. There 
 was an astonishing absence of selfish feelings : even in 
 his worst hours he thought of the health of us all; 
 observed if we sat up long, and insisted on our retiring ; 
 and was much afraid of paining or hurting us in any 
 way. Mr. D. said something on the permanency of 
 his Commentary ; ' Ah !' he cried, with a semi-con- 
 temptuous smile ; and added, * you know not what a 
 proud heart I have, and how you help the Devil.' He 
 proceeded : ' There is one feeling I cannot have, if I 
 would : those that have opposed my doctrine, have 
 slandered me sadly; but I cannot feel any resentment; 
 I can only love and pity them, and pray for their salva- 
 tion. I never did feel any resentment towards them ; 
 I only regret that I did not more ardently long and pray 
 for their salvation.' This is love, and how lovely is it !" 
 Can we conceive of a more beautiful exemplification 
 of the virtue I am describing "? and this is the temper 
 we ought all to seek. This is the grace, blended with 
 all our living habits, diffused through all our conduct, 
 forming our character, breathing in our desires, speak- 
 ing in our words, beaming in our eyes ; in short, a 
 living part of our living selves. And this, be it remem- 
 bered, is religion practical religion.
 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 CHRISTIAN LOVE IS NOT TO BE CONFOUNDED WITH 
 THAT SPURIOUS CANDOUR WHICH CONSISTS IN 
 INDIFFERENCE TO RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT, OR IN 
 CONNIVANCE AT SINFUL PRACTICES. 
 
 A SEPARATE and entire section is devoted to this 
 distinction of love from a counterfeit resemblance of 
 it, because of the importance of the subject, and the 
 frequency with which the mistake is made of confound- 
 ing things which are so different from each other. No 
 terms have been more misunderstsod or abused than 
 candour and charity. Some have found in them an 
 act of toleration for all religious opinions, however op- 
 posed to one another or to the word of God, and a bull 
 of indulgences for all sinful practices which do not 
 transgress the laws of our country: so that, by the 
 aid of these two words, all truth and holiness may be 
 driven out of the world ; for if error be innocent, truth 
 must be unimportant; and if we are to be indulgent 
 towards the sins of others, under the sanction and by 
 the command of Scripture, holiness can be of no con- 
 sequence either to them or ourselves. 
 
 If we were to hearken to some, we should conceive 
 of Charity, not as she really is a spirit of ineffable 
 beauty, descending from heaven upon our distracted
 
 25 
 
 earth, holding in her hand the torch of truth, which she 
 had lighted at the fountain of celestial radiance, and 
 clad in a vest of unsullied purity ; and who, as she 
 entered upon the scene of discord, proclaimed " glory 
 to God in the highest," as well as, " peace on earth, 
 good-will to men :" and having with these magic words 
 healed the troubled waters of strife, proceeding to draw 
 men closer to each other, by drawing them closer to 
 Christ, the common centre of believers; and then 
 hushing the clamours of contention, by removing the 
 pride, the ignorance, and the depravity, which produced 
 them.* No: but we should think of her as a lying 
 spirit clad, indeed, in some of the attire of an angel 
 of light, but bearing no heavenly impress, holding no 
 torch of truth, wearing no robe of holiness ; smiling 
 perhaps, but like a sycophant, upon all without distinc- 
 tion ; calling upon men, as they are combating for 
 truth and striving against sin, to sheathe their swords 
 and cast away their shields, to be indulgent towards 
 each other's vices and tolerant of each other's errors ; 
 because they all mean and feel substantially alike, 
 though they have different modes of expressing their 
 opinions and of giving utterance to their feelings. Is 
 this charity? No; it is Satan in the habiliments of 
 Gabriel. 
 
 That there is much of this spurious candour in the 
 world, and that it is advocated by great names, will 
 appear by the following quotation from Dr. Priestley : 
 "If we could be so happy, as to believe that there 
 
 * An Anonymous American writer has given the following eloquent 
 description. 
 
 " Her throne seemed ivory, and over her white robes floated an 
 azure mantle besprinkled with drops of heavenly lusture. On her head 
 was a chaplet of such flowers as spring in the regions of bliss ; and 
 the summit of the diadem, was distinguished by a centre of rays that 
 resembled the morning star. The bloom of eternal youth was in her 
 countenance, but her majestic form can only be described in the lan- 
 guage of that world where she is fully known. In her right hand was 
 " the sword of the Spirit," and at her side the symbols of power and 
 majesty. Beneath her feet the clouds were condensed in awful dark- 
 ness, and her chariot was borne along by the breath of the Alrfia-hty.'' 
 (A. E.) 
 
 4
 
 26 
 
 are no errors but what men may be so circumstanced 
 as to be innocently betrayed into ; that any mistake of 
 the head is very consistent with rectitude of heart ; 
 and that all differences in modes of worship may be 
 only the different methods by which different men, 
 who are equally the offspring of God, are endeavour- 
 ing to honour and obey their common parent ; our 
 difference of opinion would have no tendency to lessen 
 our mutual love and esteem," Dr. Priestley, and the 
 followers of his religious system, are not peculiar in 
 this sentiment. Pope's Universal Prayer is to the 
 same effect. 
 
 > . " Father of all, in every age, 
 
 In every clime adored, 
 By saint, by savage, or by sage, 
 Jehovah, Jove, or Lord.'' 
 
 The well-known metrical adage of this poet is 
 adapted, to the full extent of its spirit and design, by 
 great multitudes who suppose that they are quite ortho- 
 dox both in opinion and practice, and who perhaps 
 boast of their charity, while they exclaim 
 
 "For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight ; 
 His can't be wrong, whose life is in the right." 
 
 It is, I imagine, generally thought, by at least a great 
 part of mankind, that it is of little consequence what 
 a man's religious opinions are, provided his conduct be 
 tolerably correct; that charity requires us to think well 
 of his state ; and that it is the very essence of bigotry 
 to question the validity of his claim to the character of 
 a Christian, or to doubt of the safety of his soul ; in 
 other words, it is pretended that benevolence requires 
 us to think well of men, irrespective of religious opin- 
 ions ; and that it is almost a violation of the rule of 
 love to attempt to unsettle their convictions or to ren- 
 der them uneasy in the possession of their sentiments, 
 although we may conclude them to be fundamentally 
 wrong. But does this disregard of all opinions, at
 
 27 
 
 least, this disposition to think well of persons as to their 
 religious character, and the safety of their souls, what- 
 ever may be the doctrines they hold, enter essentially 
 into the nature of love 1 Most certainly not ; but ac- 
 tually opposes it. Benevolence is good will to men, 
 but this is a very different thing from a good opinion of 
 their principles and practices ; so different, that the 
 former may not only exist in all its force without the 
 latter, but be actually incompatible with it ; for if I 
 believe that a man holds opinions that endanger his 
 safety, benevolence requires, not that I should shut my 
 eyes to his danger, and lull him into false confidence, 
 but that I should bear my testimony and express my 
 fears concerning his situation. Benevolence is a very 
 different thing from complacency or esteem. These 
 are founded on approbation of character ; the other is 
 nothing more than a desire to promote happiness. 
 
 The question, whether love is to be confounded with 
 indifference to religious principle, for such does the 
 spurious candour I am contending against amount to, 
 is best decided by an appeal to Scripture. "Ye 
 shall know the truth," said Christ ; "and the truth shall 
 make you free." " This is life eternal, to know thee, 
 the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou has 
 sent." " He that believeth on the Son, hath everlast- 
 ing life ; and he that believeth not the Son, shall not see 
 life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." With 
 what emphasis did the Apostle speak of the conduct of 
 those who attempted to pervert the great doctrine of 
 justification by faith, by introducing the obsolete cere- 
 monies of the Jewish law. " But though we, or an 
 angel from heaven, preach any other Gospel unto you 
 than that which we have preached unto you, let him be 
 accursed. As we said before, so say I now again, if 
 any preach any other Gospel unto you than that ye 
 have received, let him be accursed." Now, certainly, 
 this is anything but indifference to religious opinion ; 
 for, be it observed, it was matter of opinion, and not 
 the duties of morality, or of practical religion, that was 
 here so strenuously opposed. The Apostle commands
 
 28 
 
 Timothy "to hold fast the form of sound words ; and 
 to give himself to doctrine." The Apostle John has 
 this strong language : " Whosoever transgresseth, and 
 abideth not in the doctrine of Christ, hath not God. 
 He that abideth in the doctrine, of Christ, he hath both 
 the Father and the Son. If there come any unto you, 
 and bring not this doctrine, receive him not into your 
 house, neither bid him God speed ; for*fce that biddeth 
 him God speed, is partaker of his evil deeds." Jude 
 commands us to " contend earnestly for the faith once 
 delivered to the saints." From these, and many other 
 passages which might be quoted, it is evident, not only 
 that truth is important and necessary to salvation, but 
 that error is guilty, and in many instances is connected 
 with the loss of the soul. " If a man may disbelieve 
 one truth, and yet be free from sin for so doing, he may 
 disbelieve two ; and if two, four ; and if four, ten ; and 
 if ten, half the Bible ; and if half the Bible, the whole, 
 and if he may be a Deist, and yet be in a safe state ; 
 he may be an Atheist and still go to heaven." To 
 such awful lengths may the principle be pushed, that 
 there is no guilt in mental error. "Let those," says 
 Dr. Priestley, "who maintain that the mere holding 
 of opinions (without regard to the motives and state -of 
 the mind through which men mayihave been led to 
 form them,) will necessarily exclude them from the 
 favour of God, be particularly careful with respect to 
 the premises from which they draw so alarming a con- 
 clusion." Nothing can be more sophistical than this 
 passage; for we do not in maintaining the guiltiness 
 of a false opinion, leave out the state of the heart ; but 
 contend that all errors in the judgement have their ori- 
 gin in the depravity of our nature, and, in so far as they 
 prevail, discover a heart not brought into subjection to 
 Christ. A perfectly holy mind could not err in the 
 opinion it derived from the word of God : and it may 
 be most fairly presumed that there are certain funda- 
 mental truths, which cannot be rejected, without such 
 a degree of depravity of heart, as is utterly incompati- 
 ble with true piety towards God.
 
 29 
 
 It is to be recollected, that the holiness required in 
 the word of God, is a very superior thing to what is 
 called morality. Holiness is a right state of mind to- 
 wards God, and it is enforced by motives drawn from 
 the view which the Scriptures give us of the Divine 
 nature, and of the Divine conduct towards us. If our 
 views of God, and of his scheme of mercy, be incor- 
 rect, the motives which influence us cannot be correct. 
 Hence all right feeling and conduct are traced up by the 
 sacred writers to the truth. Do they speak of regen- 
 eration 1 they tell us we are " begotten by the incor- 
 ruptible seed of the word." Do they speak of sancti- 
 fication ? they ascribe it, so far as instrumentality is con- 
 cerned, to the truth; and the truth itself is character- 
 ized as a " doctrine according to godliness." It is 
 evident, that without the truth, or, in other words, 
 without right opinions, we can neither be born again 
 of the Spirit, nor partake of true holiness. The whole 
 process of practical and experimental religion is car- 
 ried on by the instrumentality of right sentiments ; and 
 to suppose that holiness could be produced in the soul 
 as well by error as by truth, is not only contrary to 
 revelation, but no less contrary to reason. If truth 
 sanctify, error must in some way or other pollute ; for 
 to suppose that two causes, not only so distinct but so 
 opposite, can produce the same effect, is absurd ; and 
 the Scriptures everywhere insist upon the importance 
 of the truth, not merely on its own account, but on 
 account of its moral effect upon the soul. 
 
 If this view of the subject be correct, Christian 
 charity cannot mean indifference to religious sentiment ; 
 for if so, it would be a temper of mind in direct oppo- 
 sition to a large portion of Scripture : nor are we re- 
 quired, by this virtue, to give the least countenance to 
 what we think is error. We may, indeed, be called 
 bigots ; for this term, in the lips of many, means nothing 
 more than a reproach for attaching importance to right 
 sentiments. No word has been more misunderstood 
 than this. If by bigotry is meant such an overweening 
 attachment to our opinions, as makes us refuse to listen 
 4*
 
 30 
 
 to argument ; such a blind regard to our own views, as 
 closes the avenues of conviction ; such a selfish zeal 
 for our creed, as actually destroys benevolence, and 
 causes us to hate those who differ from us; it is an evil 
 state of mind, manifestly at variance with love : but if, 
 as is generally the case, it means, by those who use it, 
 only zeal for truth, it is perfectly consistent with love, 
 and actually a part of it ; for " charity rejoiceth in the 
 truth." It is quite compatible with good will to men, 
 therefore, to attach high importance to doctrines, to 
 condemn error, to deny the Christianity and safety of 
 those who withhold their assent from fundamental truths, 
 and to abstain from all such religious communion with 
 them as would imply, in the least possible degree, any 
 thing like indifference to opinion. It does appear to 
 me, that the most perfect benevolence to men, is that 
 which, instead of looking with complacency on their 
 errors, warns them of their danger, and admonishes 
 them to escape. It is no matter that they think they 
 are in the right this only makes their case the more 
 alarming; and to act towards them as if we thought 
 their mistaken views of no consequence, is only to 
 confirm their delusion, and to aid their destruction. 
 
 It is true we are neither to despise them nor perse- 
 cute them ; we are neither to oppress nor ridicule them ; 
 we are neither to look upon them with haughty scorn 
 nor with callous indifference ; but while we set our- 
 selves against their errors, we are to pity them with 
 unaffected compassion, and to labour for their conver- 
 sion with disinterested kindness. We are to bear, with 
 unruffled meekness, all their provoking sarcasms ; and 
 to sustain, with deep humility, the consciousness of our 
 clearer perceptions; and to convince them that, with 
 the steadiest resistance of their principles, we unite the 
 tenderest concern for their persons. 
 
 And, if chanty do not imply indifference to religious 
 opinions, so neither does it mean connivance at sin. 
 There are some persons whose views of the evil of sin 
 are so dim and contracted, or their good nature is so 
 accommodating and unscriptural, that they make all
 
 31 
 
 kinds of excuses for men's transgressions, and allow of 
 any latitude that is asked, for human frailty. The 
 greatest sins, if they are not committed against the 
 laws of society, are reduced to the mere infirmities of 
 our fallen nature, which should not be visited with 
 harsh censure; and as for the lesser ones, they are 
 mere specks upon a bright and polished surface, which 
 nothing but a most fastidious precision would ever 
 notice. Such persons condemn, as sour and rigid 
 ascetics, all who oppose and condemn iniquity ; revile 
 them as uniting in a kind of malignant opposition to the 
 cheerfulness of society, the very dregs of puritanism 
 and barbarism ; and reproach them as being destitute 
 of all the charities and courtesies of life. But if can- 
 dour be a confounding of the distinctions between sin 
 and holiness, a depreciating of the excellence of the 
 latter, and at the same time a diminishing of the evil of 
 the former ; if it necessarily lead us to connive with an 
 easy and goodnatured air at iniquity, and to smile with 
 a kind and gentle aspect upon the transgressions which 
 we witness ; then it must be something openly at va- 
 riance with the letter and the spirit of revelation : and 
 surely that candour which runs counter to the mind of 
 God, cannot be the love on which St. Paul passes such 
 an eulogium in this chapter. We are told by the word 
 of God, that sin is exceedingly sinful : that it is the 
 abominable thing which God hates ; that the wages 
 of it are death ; that by an unholy feeling we violate 
 the law : we are commanded to abstain from its very 
 appearance ; we are warned against excusing it in our- 
 selves, or in each other ; we are admonished to reprove 
 it, to resist it, and to oppose it, to the uttermost. Cer- 
 tainly, then, it cannot be required by the law of love, 
 that we should look with a mild and tolerant eye on 
 sin. Love to man arises out of love to God ; but can 
 it be possible to love God, and not to hate sin 1 it is the 
 fruit of faith, but faith purifies the heart ; it is cherished 
 by a sense of redeeming love ; but the very end of the 
 scheme of redemption is the destruction of sin. In- 
 dulgence of men in their sins, connivance at their ini-
 
 32 
 
 quity, instead of being an act of benevolence, is the 
 greatest cruelty : hence the emphatic language of God 
 to the Israelites " Thou shalt not hate thy brother in 
 thine heart; thou shalt in any wise rebuke thy neigh- 
 bour, and not suffer sin upon him." Would it be be- 
 nevolence to connive at that conduct by which any 
 individual was bringing disease upon his body, or po- 
 verty into his circumstances'? If not, how can it be 
 benevolent to leave him, without a warning, to do that 
 which will involve his soul in ruin. To think more 
 lightly of the evil of sin than the word of God does ; 
 to call that good, or even indifferent, which by it is 
 called evil ; to make allowances, which it does not 
 make, for human frailty ; to frame excuses for sin 
 which it disallows ; to lull the consciences of men, by 
 considerations in extenuation of guilt which it forbids ; 
 or to do any thing to produce other views and feelings 
 in reference to iniquity, than such as are warranted by 
 the Scripture, is not charity, but a participation in 
 other men's sins. 
 
 It is the nature of charity, I admit, not to be hasty 
 to impute evil motives to actions of a doubtful nature ; 
 not to take pleasure in finding out the faults of others ; 
 not to magnify them beyond the reality, but to make all 
 the allowance that a regard to truth will admit of ; to 
 hope the best in the absence of proof; and to be will- 
 ing to forgive the offence when it has been committed 
 against ourselves : but to carry it beyond this, and let 
 it degenerate into a Complaisance which is afraid to 
 rebuke, or oppose, or condemn sin, lest we should 
 offend the transgressor, or violate the law of courtesy, 
 or subject ourselves to the reproach of being a cen- 
 sorious bigot; which courts the good-will and pro- 
 motes the self-satisfaction of others, by conniving at 
 their sins ; which seeks to ingratiate itself in their af- 
 fections, by being indulgent to their vices ; is to vio- 
 late at once the law both of the first and of the second 
 Table ; is to forget every obligation which we are laid 
 under, both to love God and our neighbour. If this 
 be candour, it is no less opposed to piety than to hu-
 
 manity, and can never be the love enjoined in so many 
 places in the New Testament. No : Christian chari- 
 ty is not a poor old dotard, creeping about the world, 
 too blind to perceive the distinction between good and 
 evil ; or a fawning sycophant, too timid to reprove the 
 bold transgressor, and smiling with parasitical and 
 imbecile complacency upon the errors and iniquities of 
 the human race ; but a vigorous and healthy virtue, 
 with an eye keen to discern the boundaries between 
 right and wrong, a hand strong and ready to help the 
 transgressor out of his miserable condition, a heart full 
 of mercy for the sinner and the sufferer ; a disposition 
 to forgive rather than to revenge, to extenuate rather 
 than to aggravate, to conceal rather than to expose, to 
 be kind rather than severe, to be hopeful of good rather 
 than suspicious of evil, but withal, the inflexible, im- 
 mutable friend of holiness, and the equally inflexible 
 and.immutable enemy of sin. 
 
 We are not allowed, it is true, to be scornful and 
 proud towards the wicked, nor censorious towards any ; 
 we are not to make the most distant > approach to the 
 temper which says, " Stand by, I am holier than thou.!" 
 we are not to hunt for the failings of others, nor, when 
 we see them without hunting for them, to condemn 
 them in a tone of arrogance, or with a spirit of acerbi- 
 ty ; but still we must maintain that temper which, while 
 it reflects the beauty of a God of love, no less bright- 
 ly reflects his glory as a God of holiness and a God of 
 truth.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE INDISPENSABLE NECESSITY OF CHRISTIAN LOVE. 
 
 A DISTINCTION has been introduced into the subject 
 of religion, which, although not wholly free from ob- 
 jection, is sufficient to answer the purpose for which it 
 is. employed ; I mean that which exists between es- 
 sentials and non-essentials. It would be a difficult task 
 to trace the boundary line by which these classes are 
 divided ; but the truth of the general idea cannot be 
 questioned that there are some things, both in faith 
 and practice, which, for want of perceiving the grounds 
 of their obligation, we may neglect, and yet not be 
 destitute of true religion; while there are others, the 
 absence of which necessarily implies an unrenewed 
 heart. Among the essentials of true piety, must be 
 reckoned the disposition we are now considering. It 
 is not to be classed with those observances and views 
 which, though important, are not absolutely essential 
 to salvation : we must possess it, or we are not Chris- 
 tians now, and shall not be admitted into heaven here- 
 after. The Apostle has expressed this necessity in the 
 clearest and the strongest manner. He has put a 
 hypothetical case of the most impressive kind, which I 
 shall now illustrate.
 
 35 
 
 " Though I speak with the tongues of men or of 
 angels, and have not CHARITY, / am become as sounding 
 brass, or a tinkling cymbal"- Verse 1. 
 
 By the tongues of men and of angels, we are not 
 to understand the powers of the loftiest eloquence, 
 but the miraculous gift of tongues, accompanied by an 
 ability to convey ideas according to the method of 
 celestial beings. Should a man be invested with these 
 stupendous endowments, and employ them in the ser- 
 vice of the Gospel ; still, if his heart were not a par- 
 taker of love, he would be no more acceptable to God, 
 than was the clangor of the brazen instruments em- 
 ployed in the idolatrous worship of the Egyptian Isis, 
 or the noise of the tinkling cymbals which accompa- 
 nied the orgies of the Grecian Cybele. Such a man's 
 profession of religion is not only worthless in the sight 
 of God, but disagreeable and disgusting. The com- 
 parison is remarkably strong, inasmuch as it refers not 
 to soft melodious sounds, as of the flute or of the harp 
 not to the harmonious chords of a concert, but to 
 the harsh dissonance of instruments of the most inhar- 
 monious character : and if, as is probable, the allusion 
 be to the noisy clank of idolatrous musicians, the idea 
 is as strongly presented as it is possible for the force of 
 language to express it. 
 
 " And, though I have the gift of prophecy, and under- 
 stand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though 1 
 have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have 
 not CHARITY, / am nothing" Verse 2. 
 
 Paul still alludes to miraculous endowments. Pro- 
 phecy, in the Scripture use of the term, is not limited 
 to the foretelling of future events, but means, to speak 
 by inspiration of God ; and its exercise, in this instance, 
 refers to the power of explaining, without premedita- 
 tion or mistake, the typical and predictive parts of the 
 Old Testament dispensation, together with the facts 
 and doctrines of the Christian economy. " The faith 
 that could remove mountains," is an allusion to an ex- 
 pression of our Lord's, which occurs in the Gospel 
 history. " Verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as
 
 36 
 
 a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this moun- 
 tain, Remove hence to yonder place ; and it shall re- 
 move." This faith is of a distinct nature altogether 
 from that by which men are justified, and become the 
 children of God. It has been called the faith of mi- 
 racles, and seems to have consisted in a firm .persuasion 
 of the power or ability of God to do any miraculous 
 thing for the support of the Gospel. It operated two 
 ways : the first was a belief on the part of the person 
 who wrought the miracle, that he was the subject of a 
 divine impulse, and called at that time to perform such 
 an act ; and the other was a belief on the part of the 
 person on whom a miracle was about to be performed, 
 that such an effect would be really produced. Now 
 the Apostle declared, that although a man had been 
 gifted with prophecy, so as to explain the deepest mys- 
 teries of the Jewish or the Christian systems, and, in 
 addition, possessed that miraculous faith by which the 
 most difficult and astonishing changes would have been 
 effected, he was nothing, and less than nothing, with- 
 out love. 
 
 " And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, 
 and though I give my body to be burned, and have not 
 CHARITY, it profitet h me nothing." Verse 3. 
 
 This representation of the indispensable necessity of 
 love is most striking; it supposes it possible that a 
 man may distribute all his substance in acts of appa- 
 rent beneficence, and yet, after all, be without true 
 religion. Actions derive their moral character from 
 the motives under the influence of which they are per- 
 formed ; and many which are beneficial to man, may 
 still be sinful in the sight of God, because they are not 
 done from a right inducement. The most diffusive 
 liberality, if prompted by pride, vanity, or self-righteous- 
 ness, is of no value in the eyes of the omniscient Je- 
 hovah ; on the contrary, it is very sinful. And is it 
 not too evident to be questioned, that many of the alms- 
 deeds of which we are the witnesses, are done from any 
 motives but the right ones ? We can readily imagine 
 that multitudes are lavish in their pecuniary contribu-
 
 37 
 
 tions, who are at the same time totally destitute of love 
 to God and love to man ; and if destitute of these sa- 
 cred virtues, they are, as it respects real religion, less 
 than nothing, although they should spend every farthing 
 of their property in relieving the wants of the poor. 
 If our munificence, however great or self-denying, be 
 the operation of mere selfish regard to ourselves, to our 
 own reputation, or to our own safety, and not of pure 
 love, it may do good to others, but will do none to our- 
 selves. " And though I give my body to be burned," 
 i. e. as a martyr for religion, " and have not charity, it 
 profiteth me nothing." Whether such a case as this 
 ever existed, we know not ; it is not impossible, nor 
 improbable ; but if it did, not the tortures of an ago- 
 nizing death, nor the courage that endured them, nor 
 the seeming zeal for religion which led to them, would 
 be accepted in lieu of love to man. Such an instance 
 of self-devotedness must have been the result either of 
 that self-righteousness which substitutes its own suffer- 
 ings for those of Christ, or of that love of fame which 
 scruples not to seek it even in the fires of martyrdom ; 
 in either case it partakes not of the nature, nor will 
 receive the reward, of true religion. It will help to 
 convince us, not only of the necessity, but of the im- 
 portance, of this temper of mind, if we bring into a 
 narrow compass the many and various representations 
 of it which are to be found in the New Testament. 
 
 1. It is the object of the Divine decree in predestina- 
 tion. " According as he hath chosen us in. him before 
 the foundation of the world, that we should be holy 
 and without blame before him in love." Ephes. i. 4. 
 
 2. It is the end and purpose of the moral law. " The 
 end of the commandment is charity (love.") " Jesus 
 said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with 
 all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy 
 mind. This is the first and great commandment. And 
 the second is like unto it Thou shalt love thy neigh- 
 bour as thyself. On these two commandments hang 
 all the Law and the Prophets." Matt. xxii. 37 40. 
 ** Love is the fulfilling of the law." 
 
 5
 
 38 
 
 3. It is the evidence of regeneration. " Love is of 
 God, and every one that loveth is born of God." 1 
 John iv. 7. 
 
 4. It is the necessary operation and effect of saving 
 faith. " For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision 
 availeth any thing, nor uncircumcision ; but faith which 
 worketh by love." 
 
 5. It is that grace by which both personal and mutual 
 edification is promoted. " Knowledge puffeth up, but 
 charity (love) edifieth." 1 Cor. viii. 1. " Maketh in- 
 crease of the body to the edifying of itself in love." 
 Eph. iv. 16. 
 
 6. It is the proof of a mutual inhabitation between 
 God and his people. " If we love one another, God 
 dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us. Here- 
 by know we that we dwell in him, and he in us, because 
 he hath given us of his Spirit. And we have known 
 and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love ; 
 and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God 
 in him." 1 John iv. 12 16. 
 
 7. It is declared to be the greatest of all the Christian 
 virtues. " The greatest of these is charity (love.") 
 
 8. It is represented as the perfection of religion. 
 " Above all these things, put on charity (love,) which 
 is the bond of perfectness." Col. iii. 4. 
 
 What encomiums are these ! what striking proofs of 
 the supreme importance of the disposition now under 
 consideration ! Who has not been guilty of some 
 neglect of it ? Who has not had his attention drawn 
 too much from it 1 Who can read these passages of 
 Holy Writ, and not feel convinced that not only man- 
 kind in general, but the professors of spiritual religion 
 also, have too much mistaken the nature of true piety ? 
 What are clear and orthodox views what are strong 
 feelings what is our faith what our enjoyment 
 what our freedom from gross immorality, without this 
 spirit of pure and universal benevolence ? 
 
 Whether an instance, we again repeat, ever existed 
 of an individual whose circumstances answered to the 
 supposition of the Apostle, we cannot determine ; the
 
 statement certainly suggests to us a most alarming idea 
 of our liability to self-deception in reference to our 
 personal religion. Delusion on this subject prevails to 
 an extent truly appalling. Millions are in error as to 
 the real condition of their souls, and are travelling to 
 perdition, while, according to their own idea, they are 
 journeying to the celestial Canaan. Oh fearful mis -. 
 take ! Oh fatal imposture ! What terrible disappoint- 
 ment awaits them ! What horror, and anguish, and 
 despair, will take eternal possession of their souls, in 
 that moment of revelation, when, instead of awaking 
 from the sleep of death amidst the glories of the hea- 
 venly city, they shall lift up their eyes, " being in tor- 
 ment." No pen can describe the overwhelming anguish 
 of such a disappointment, and the imagination shrinks 
 with amazement and torture from the contemplation of 
 her own faint sketch of the insupportable scene. 
 
 To be led on by the power of delusion, so far as to 
 commit an error of consequence to our temporal inte- 
 rests ; to have impaired our health, our reputation, or 
 our property ; is sufficiently painful, especially where 
 there is no prospect, or but a faint one, of repairing the 
 mischief: yet, in this case, religion opens a balm for 
 the wounded spirit, and eternity presents a prospect, 
 where the sorrows of time will be forgotten. But, oh ! 
 to be in error on the nature of religion itself, and to 
 build our hopes of immortality on the sand instead of 
 the rock ; to see the lamp of our deceitful profession, 
 which had served to amuse us in life, and even to guide 
 us in false peace through the dark valley of the shadow 
 of death, suddenly extinguished as we cross the thres- 
 hold of eternity, and leaving us amidst the darkness 
 of rayless, endless night, instead of quietly expiring 
 amidst the blaze of everlasting day ! Is such a delu- 
 sion possible ? Has it ever happened in one solitary 
 instance 1 Do the annals of the unseen world record 
 one such case, and the prison of lost souls contain one 
 miserable spirit that perished by delusion 1 Then what 
 deep solicitude ought the possibility of such an event
 
 40 
 
 to circulate through the hearts of all, to avoid the error 
 of a self-deceived mind 1 Is it possible to be mistaken 
 in our judgment of our state ? then how deeply anx- 
 ious ought we all to feel, not to be misled by false 
 criteria in forming our decision. But what if, instead 
 of one case, millions should have occurred, of souls 
 irrecoverably lost by self-deception 1 What if delusion 
 should be the most crowded avenue to the bottomless 
 pit*? What if it should be the common infatuation, the 
 epidemic blindness, which has fallen upon the multi- 
 tudes of the inhabitants of Christendom'? What if 
 this moral insanity should have infected and destroyed 
 very many who have made even a stricter profession of 
 religion than others 1 How shall we explain, much more 
 justify, that want of anxiety about their everlasting 
 welfare that destitution of care to examine into the 
 nature and evidences of true piety that willingness 
 to be imposed upon, in reference to eternity which 
 many exhibit 1 Jesus Christ does tell us that MANY, in 
 that day, shall say, " Lord, Lord, ("iid we not prophesy 
 in thy namel" to whom he will say, "Depart from me, 
 I never knew you, ye workers of iniquity." He says, 
 that " MANY are called, but few chosen." He says, 
 that of the four classes of those who hear the word, 
 only one hears it to advantage. He says, that of the 
 ten virgins, to whom he likens the kingdom of heaven, 
 Jive only were wise, while the other five were deceiving 
 themselves with the unfed lamp of a deceitful profes- 
 sion. He intimates most plainly, that self-deception in 
 religion is fearfully common and common amongst 
 those who make a more serious profession than others. 
 It is lie that has sounded the alarm to awaken slumber- 
 ing professors of religion from their carnal security. 
 It is he that hath said, " He that hath ears to hear, let 
 him hear." " I know thy works, how that thou hast a 
 name that thou livest and art dead." How careful, 
 then, ought we to be, not to be imposed upon by false 
 evidences of religion, and not to conclude that we are 
 Christians, while we are destitute of those things which
 
 41 
 
 the word of God declares to be essential to genuine 
 piety. We must have love, therefore, or all else is in- 
 sufficient. 
 
 1 . Some conclude, that because they are regular in 
 their attendance upon the services of religion, they are 
 true Christians : they go punctually to church or to 
 meeting they receive the Lord's Supper^ they fre- 
 quent the meetings for social prayer they, perhaps, 
 repeat prayers in secret, and read the Scriptures. All 
 this is well, if it be done with right views, and in con- 
 nexion with right dispositions: but it is the whole of 
 their religion ; a mere abstraction of devotional exer- 
 cise ; a thing separate and apart from the heart, and 
 temper, and conduct ; a business of the closet, and of 
 the sanctuary ; a sort of composition paid to the Al- 
 mighty, to be released from all the other demands of 
 Scripture and obligations of piety; an expression of 
 their willingness to be devout in the church, and on the 
 Sabbath, provided they may be as earthly-minded, as 
 selfish, as malicious, and as unkind, as they please, in 
 all places and all times besides. This is not religion. 
 
 2. Others are depending upon the clearness of their 
 views, and their attainments in evangelical knowledge. 
 They pretend to a singular zeal for the truth, and are 
 great sticklers for the doctrines of grace, of which they 
 profess to have an acquaintance little short of inspira- 
 tion. They look upon all, besides a few of their own 
 class, as mere babes in knowledge, or as individuals 
 who, like the man in the Gospel, have their eyes only 
 half opened, and who see, "men as trees walking." 
 They are the eagles who soar to the sun, and bask in 
 his beams ; while the rest of mankind are the moles 
 that burrow, and the bats that flutter in the dark. Doc- 
 trine is everything ; clear views of the Gospel are the 
 great desideratum ; and in their zeal for these things, 
 they suppose they can never say things extravagant 
 enough, nor absurd enough, nor angry enough, against 
 good works, practical religion, or Christian temper. 
 Puffed up with pride, selfish, unkind, irritable, censori- 
 ous, malicious, they manifest a total want of that hu- 
 
 5*
 
 42 
 
 mility and kindness which are the prominent features 
 of true Christianity. Clear views, even where they 
 have no resemblance to the monstrous caricatures and 
 frightful deformities of modern Antinomianism, are of 
 themselves no evidence of religion, any more than 
 right theoretical notions of the constitution are the 
 proojs of loyalty ; and as a man, with these notions in 
 his mind, may be a traitor in his heart, so may a pro- 
 fessor of religion be an enemy to God in his soul, with 
 an evangelical creed upon his tongue. Many profess 
 to be very fond of the lamp of truth, grasp it firmly in 
 their hands, admire its flame, pity or blame those who 
 are following the delusive and meteoric fires of error ; 
 but, after all, make no other use of it, than to illumi- 
 nate the path that leads them to perdition : their reli- 
 gion begins and ends in adopting a form of sound words 
 for their creed, approving an evangelical ministry, ad- 
 miring the popular champions of the truth, and joining 
 in the reprobation of fundamental error. As to any 
 spirituality of mind, any heavenliness of affection, any 
 Christian love in short, as to any of the natural ten- 
 dency, the appropriate energy, the vital elevating influ- 
 ence, of those very doctrines to which they profess to 
 be attached they are as destitute as the veriest world- 
 ling ; and, like him, are perhaps selfish, revengeful, im- 
 placable, and unkind. This is a religion but too com- 
 mon in the present day, when evangelical sentiments 
 are becoming increasingly popular ; a religion but too 
 common in our churches ; a religion, cold, heartless, 
 and uninfluential ; a sort of lunar light, which reflects 
 the beams of the sun, but not his warmth. 
 
 3. On the other hand, some are satisfied with the 
 vividness and the violence of their feelings. Possessed 
 of much excitability and warmth of temperament, they 
 are, of course, susceptible of deep and powerful im- 
 pression from the ordinances of religion. They are 
 not without their religious joy, for even the stony ground 
 hearers rejoiced for a while ; and they are not without 
 their religious sorrows. Their tears are plentiful, 
 and their smiles in proportion. See them in the
 
 43 
 
 house of God, and none appear to feel more under 
 the word than they. The sermon exerts a plastic 
 power over their affections, and the preacher seems to 
 have their hearts at command. They talk loudly of 
 " happy frames," " precious seasons," " comfortable 
 opportunities." But follow them from the house of 
 God to their own habitation, and, oh, how changed 
 the scene ! the least offence, perhaps an unintentional 
 one, raises a storm of passion, and the man that look- 
 ed like a seraph in the sanctuary, seems more like a 
 fury at home : follow them from the Sabbath into the 
 days of the week ; and you will see the man who ap- 
 peared all for heaven on the Sunday, all for earth on 
 the Monday : follow them from the assembly of the 
 saints to the chief places of concourse, where they 
 buy, and sell, and get gain ; and you will see the man 
 who looked so devout, irritated and litigious, selfish and 
 overreaching, rude and insulting, envious and mali- 
 cious, suspicious and defamatory. Yes ; and perhaps 
 in the evening of the same day, you will see him at a 
 prayer meeting, enjoying, as he supposes, the holy 
 season. Such is the delusion under which many are 
 living. Their religion is, in great part, a mere suscep- 
 tibility of impression from religious subjects ; it is a 
 selfish, religious voluptuousness. 
 
 It is certain, that more importance is oftentimes 
 attached to " sensible enjoyment," as it is called to 
 lively frames and feelings than belongs to them. 
 There is a great variety in the constitution of the 
 human mind, not only as it respects the power of 
 thinking, but also of feeling : some feel far more 
 acutely than others ; this is observable separate and 
 apart from godliness. The grace of God in conver- 
 sion, operates a wiora/, not a physical, change ; it gives 
 a new direction to the faculties, but leaves the faculties 
 themselves as they were ; consequently, with equal depth 
 of conviction, and equal strength of principle, there 
 will be various degrees of feeling, in different persons : 
 the susceptibility of the mind to impression, and its lia-
 
 bility to vivid feeling, were there before conversion, 
 and they remain after it; and oftentimes the lively 
 emotion produced by affecting scenes, or seasons, or 
 sermons, is partly an operation of nature, and partly 
 of grace. A man may feel but little, and yet, if that 
 little lead him to do much, it is great piety notwith- 
 standing. Of two persons who listen to an affecting 
 tale, one is seen to weep profusely, and is overwhelmed 
 by the story ; the other is attentive and thoughtful, but 
 neither weeps nor sobs. They retire : the former, 
 perhaps, to wipe her tears, and to forget the misery 
 which caused them ; the latter to seek out the sufferer, 
 and relieve him. Which had most feeling 1 The former. 
 Which most benevolence *? The latter. The conduct 
 of one was the result of nature, that of the other the 
 effect of principle. Take another illustration, still 
 more in point. Conceive of two real Christians lis- 
 tening to a sermon in which the preacher is discoursing 
 from such a text as this " Beloved, if God so loved 
 us, we ought also to love one another ;" or this " Ye 
 know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, though 
 he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that 
 ye, through his poverty might be rich." His object, 
 as that of every man should be, who preaches from 
 such a text, is to show that a sense of divine love to 
 us, should fill us with benevolence towards others. In 
 order to bring the heart to feel its obligations, he gives 
 a vivid description of God's love to man ; and then, 
 while his hearers are affected with God's mercy he calls 
 upon them, in imitation of Jehovah, to relieve those 
 who are in want ; to bear with those who are vexatious ; 
 to forgive those who have injured them ; to lay aside 
 their wrath, and abound in all the expressions of ge- 
 nuine affection to their fellow-christians. One of the 
 individuals is deeply interested and affected by the first 
 part of the discourse, sheds many tears, and is wrought 
 up to a high pitch of feeling, while the preacher paints 
 in glowing colours the love of God : the other hears 
 with fixed attention, with genuine faith, the whole ser-
 
 45 
 
 man, but his emotions are not powerful ; he feels it is 
 true, but it is tranquil feeling, unattended by either 
 smiles or tears. They go home ; the latter perhaps in 
 silence, the former exclaiming to his friends, " Oh, 
 what a delightful sermon ! what a precious season ! 
 did you ever hear the love of God so impressively, so 
 beautifully, described ?" With all his feeling, however, 
 he does not go forth to relieve one child of want, nor 
 does he attempt to extinguish one angry or implacable 
 feeling towards an individual who had offended him, 
 He is as passionate and unforgiving, as unkind and sel- 
 fish, after the sermon, as he was before he heard it 
 The other retires with more of calm reflection than of 
 strong emotion. Hearken to his soliloquy : " The 
 preacher has given us a most astonishing idea of the 
 love of God to us, and most clearly and affectingly de- 
 duced from it our obligations to love one another. 
 Am / interested in this love 1 What ! has this ineffable 
 grace lavished all its benefits on me, a rebel against 
 God, upon me a sinner? And shall / not feel this love 
 constraining me to relieve the wants, to heal the sor- 
 rows, to forgive the offences, of my fellow-creatures? 
 I will bear ill will no longer ; I will put out the kindling 
 spark of revenge ; I will go in a spirit of meekness and 
 of love, and forgive the offender, and be reconciled to 
 my brother." By that grace on which he depended, 
 he is enabled to act up to his resolution. He becomes, 
 upon principle, upon conviction, more merciful, more 
 meek, more affectionate. Which has most feeling? 
 The former. Which has most religion? The latter. 
 
 Any emotion, however pleasurable or intense, that 
 does not lead to action, is mere natural, not holy, 
 feeling : while that, however feeble it may seem, which 
 leads us to do the will of God, is unfeigned piety. In 
 order to ascertain our degree of religion, we must not 
 merely ask, how we feel under sermons, but how this 
 feeling leads us to act afterwards. The operative 
 strength of our principles, and not the contemplative 
 strength of our feelings, is the test of godliness. All
 
 46 
 
 that imaginative emotion, produced by a sense of God's 
 love to us, which does not lead to a cultivation of the 
 virtue considered in this treatise, is one of the delusive 
 fires, which, instead of guiding aright, misleads the 
 souls of men. 
 
 4. It is to be feared that many, in the present day, 
 satisfy themselves that they are Christians, because of 
 their zeal in the cause of religion. Happily for the 
 church of God, happily for the world at large, there is 
 now a great and general eagerness for the diffusion of 
 knowledge and piety. Throwing off the torpor of 
 ages, the friends of Christ are labouring to extend his 
 kingdom in every direction. Almost every possible 
 object of Christian philanthropy is seized upon ; socie- 
 ties are organized ; means, adapted to every kind of 
 instruments, are employed ; the whole levy en masse of 
 the religious world is called out ; and Christendom pre- 
 sents an interesting scene of benevolent energy. Such 
 a state of things, however, has its dangers in reference 
 to personal religion, and may become an occasion of 
 delusion to many. It does not require genuine piety 
 to associate us with these movements : from a natural 
 liberality of disposition, or regard to reputation, or a 
 desire of influence, or by the compulsion of example, 
 we may give our property ; for all these motives are no 
 doubt in partial operation, when giving is in fashion. 
 And as to personal exertions, how many inducements 
 may lead to this, besides a sincere and an ardent love 
 to Christ; an inherent fondness for activity, a love of 
 display, the spirit of party, the persuasion of friends, 
 may all operate, and unquestionably do operate, in 
 many cases, to produce astonishing efforts in the cause 
 of religious benevolence, where there is a total absence 
 of genuine piety. The mind of man, prone to self- 
 deception, and anxious to find some reasons to satisfy 
 itself in reference to its eternal state, short of the true 
 evidence of a renewed heart, is too apt to derive a false 
 peace from the contemplation of its zeal. In propor- 
 tion as the cause of the delusion approximates to the 
 nature of true religion, is its power to blind and to
 
 47 
 
 mislead the judgment. If the mind can perceive any 
 thing in itself, or in its operations, which bears the 
 semblance of godliness, it will convert it into a means 
 of lulling the conscience and removing anxiety. This 
 is to many persons the fatal opiate, the soul-destroying 
 imposture their activity in the cause of Christian zeal : 
 none are more diligent in their devotedness to the duties 
 of committees, none are more constant in their attend- 
 ance upon public meetings ; others, again, weary them- 
 selves in their weekly rounds to collect the contributions 
 of the rich or the offerings of the poor. These things, 
 if they do not lead them coolly to reason and to con- 
 clude that they are believers, take off their attention 
 from the real condition of their souls, leave them no 
 leisure for reflection, repress the rising fear, and either 
 stifle the voice of conscience, or enable them to drown 
 its remonstrances in the eloquence of the platform, or 
 in the discussions of the committee-room. We doubt 
 not that some unworthy professors of religion, in the 
 present age, resort to public meetings for the same 
 reason as many a guilty votary of pleasure does to 
 public amusements to forget his own condition, and 
 to turn away his ear, for a short season, from the voice 
 that speaks to him from within. Individuals are known 
 to us all, who, amidst the greatest zeal for various pub- 
 lic institutions, are living in malice and all uncharitable- 
 ness, in the indulgence of a predominant selfishness, 
 and uncontrolled wrath. But it will not do. This is 
 not piety. Could we support the whole expenditure 
 of the Missionary Society by our affluence, and direct 
 its councils by our wisdom, and keep alive its energy 
 by our ardour, and yet at the same time were destitute 
 of love, we should perish eternally, amidst the muni- 
 ficence of our liberality. 
 
 And of those who have the grace of love, and who 
 are real believers, some are far more deficient in its in- 
 fluence and activity than they should be ; and endea- 
 vour to quiet an accusing conscience with the wretched 
 sophistry, " that as a Christian cannot be supposed to 
 excel in every thing, their forte lies in the active virtues
 
 48 
 
 of religion more than in the passive graces ; and that, 
 therefore, any little deficiency in the latter is made up 
 by their greater abundance of the former." This rea- 
 soning is as false in its principle, as it is frequent, we 
 fear, hi its adoption. Where, in all the word of God, 
 is this species of moral composition of duties taught or 
 sanctioned 1 This is really carrying the popish princi- 
 ple of indulgences into our own private concerns, and 
 creating a surplus stock of one virtue to be available 
 for the deficiencies of another. 
 
 It is to be apprehended, that as every age is marked 
 with a peculiar tendency, either to some prevailing error 
 or defect, the tendency of the present age is to exalt 
 the active virtues of piety, at the expense of the passive 
 ones ; and, while the former are forced into an increas- 
 ing luxuriance, to permit the latter to wither in their 
 shade ; or, at least, there is a disposition to devote all 
 that time and attention to the culture of one which 
 ought to be shared between both. It cannot be denied 
 that our love of activity and of display will generally 
 incline us to prefer the cultivation of public spirit, 
 rather than the more private and self-denying tempers 
 of meekness, humility, and forbearance ; for it is incon- 
 ceivably more easy, and more pleasant, to float upon 
 the tide of public feeling towards the objects of reli- 
 gious zeal, than to wade against the stream of our own 
 corrupt tendencies, and to accomplish an end which he 
 only who seeth in secret will duly appreciate. 
 
 5. May it not be said, that in many cases a PROFES- 
 SION of religion seems to release individuals from all 
 obligation to cultivate the dispositions which it necessa- 
 rily implies ; who, instead of deriving from this circum- 
 stance a stimulus to seek after the Christian temper, 
 find in it a reason for general negligence ? 
 
 They have been admitted as members of a church, 
 and have thus received, as it were, a certificate of per- 
 sonal religion ; and, instead of being anxious from that 
 moment to excel in every virtue that can adorn the 
 doctrine of God their Saviour, they sink into careless- 
 ness and lukewarmness, A profession of religion, uu-
 
 49 
 
 supported by Christian love, will only increase our guilt 
 here, and sink us immeasurably lower in the bottomless 
 pit hereafter. Wo, eternal wo, will be upon that man 
 who bears the name of our Lord Jesus without his image. 
 Wo, eternal wo, will be upon those members of our 
 churches, who are content to find their way into the 
 fellowship of the faithful, without adding to their cha- 
 racter the lustre of this sacred virtue. 
 
 Thus have we shown how many things there are, 
 which, though good in themselves, when performed 
 from right motives and in connexion with other parts 
 of religion, cannot, hi the absence of love, be depended 
 upon as unequivocal evidences of personal piety. Let 
 us beware of self-deception in this awfully important 
 business ; for it will be dreadful beyond the power of 
 imagination to conceive of, to find ourselves the next 
 moment after death, amidst the horrors of the infernal 
 pit, instead of the felicities of the celestial city. Love 
 is required by God, as an essential part of true reli- 
 gion i and the total absence of it as necessarily pre- 
 vents a man from being a true Christian, as the want of 
 temperance or purity. Besides, this is the temper of 
 heaven ; this is the unvarying state of mind in the in- 
 numerable company of angels, and the spirits of just 
 men made perfect ; this is the heart of Jesus, the media- 
 tor of the new covenant, and the image of God the 
 Judge of all. Without this, there would be no meet- 
 ness for the society of paradise, no fitness for an asso- 
 ciation of which the bond of fellowship is love ; without 
 this there can be no grace here, and, therefore, no glory 
 hereafter. 
 
 : fi-i.f?iH!ifc />;,{ ojf} tiflM fa /ryjui:i) : '>itl ,JJ 
 
 i' haft Ifuiin '/ .'jiiniuj^'i *JY/ ll .'snoi 
 Hi '.>,-jiJ no ij)3fJ t i>^jn-.-iiijin9 ^ii>rf 
 [/? -. lj{;)*tyju:Kir !uiB'8ttoH*rto<ToT&oarT 
 
 6
 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ON THE PROPERTIES OF CHRISTIAN LOVE, AS STATED 
 B7 THE APOSTLE. 
 
 BY a beautiful personification, the Apostle has de- 
 scribed this grace under the figure of an interesting fe- 
 male, who, like an angel of light, lifts her cherubic form 
 and smiling countenance amidst the children of men ; 
 shedding, as she passes along, a healing influence on 
 the wounds of society, hushing the notes of discord, 
 driving before her the spirits of mischief, bringing the 
 graces in her train, and converting earth into a resem- 
 blance of heaven. Her charms are sufficient to capti- 
 vate every heart, if every heart were as it should be ; 
 and her influence such as every mind should court. 
 " Love suffereth long, and is kind : love envieth not : 
 love vaunteth not itself; is not puffed up; doth not 
 behave itself unseemly ; seeketh not her own ; is not 
 easily provoked ; <hinketh no evil ; rejoiceth not in ini- 
 quity, but rejoiceth in the truth ; beareth all things, be- 
 lieveth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." 
 
 1. The first remark which I make on these proper- 
 ties, is, that they describe such expressions of our love as 
 have a particular reference to our TEMPER. 
 
 By the temper, we mean the prevailing spirit and dis- 
 position of the mind, as it respects the irascible or selfish 
 affections. If we examine, we shall find that all the 
 qualities here enumerated, bear on these dispositions. 
 There are other operations and manifestations of chari- 
 ty, beside those which are here specified such, for in-
 
 51 
 
 stance, as justice, and chastity ; for it is impossible to 
 love mankind, and violate the rules of either of these 
 duties : but the apostle restricts his specification to those 
 properties of it, which are comprehended in the word 
 temper. Nothing, surely, can teach more clearly, or 
 more impressively, the- great truth, that religion must 
 govern the temper, than this chapter. It is strange, but 
 true, that many seem to think that temper is that part 
 of a man's self and conduct, over which religion has no 
 legal jurisdiction. They admit their obligations to be 
 holy, and moral, and devout ; but they do not feel, at 
 least do not acknowledge, that it is their duty to be 
 meek, gentle, and kind. They may not affirm so much 
 in words, but it is the secret and tacit system of conduct 
 which they have adopted. Hence it is, that although 
 they are correct in their morals, and regular in their 
 attendance on the means of grace, they are withal so 
 apt to receive offence, and so forward to give it ; they 
 are either so passionate, or so sullen ; so implacable or 
 revengeful ; that the real excellences of their charac- 
 ter are lost sight of in the deep shadow of their infirmi- 
 ties, and the ways of godliness are spoken ill of on their 
 account. This arises from their not being sufficiently 
 convinced of the evil of such infirmities ; and this blind- 
 ness itself is the consequence of a supposition, that the 
 removal of the evil is physically impossible. "Our 
 temper," say they, " is as much a part of ourselves, as 
 the colour of our skin, or the conformation of our body ; 
 it is naturally inherent in us, and we cannot help it." As 
 long as this is the conviction of the judgment, or the 
 admission of a deceitful heart, it is almost vain to hope 
 for a reformation. But let us reason with such persons. 
 It must be admitted, that there do exist constitutional 
 tendencies to the exercise of particular passions : with- 
 out being able to account for these effects, or whether 
 the cause be wholly in the body or partly in the mind, 
 the effects are too obvious to be denied. Nay, these 
 constitutional tendencies are no less hereditary, some- 
 times, than direct physical disease. One man is natu- 
 rally prepense to passion; another to sullenness; a
 
 52 
 
 third to envy ; a fourth to pride : all this is indisputable. 
 But these tendencies are not uncontroulable : they are 
 impulses, but not constraints ; incitements, but not 
 compulsions. It would subvert the whole system of 
 moral obligation, to suppose that we were under a phy- 
 sical necessity of sinning, which we certainly should be, 
 if inherent tendencies were beyond the power of moral 
 restraint. That cannot be duty, which a man could 
 not do if he would ; nor can that be sin, which he can- 
 not avoid by any exercise of disposition or will. If, 
 therefore, we cannot help indulging revenge, envy, 
 pride, unkindness, they are no sins : and, in this case 
 would such vices have been condemned, if there were 
 an impossibility in the way of avoiding them 1 Certainly 
 not. It is no actual sin to have the liability ; the guilt 
 consists in indulging it. 
 
 If the existence of constitutional propensities be an 
 excuse for their indulgence, the licentious man may 
 plead it in justification of his sensuality ; for he may 
 have . stronger incitements to his besetting sin, than 
 many others who run not to the same excess of riot 
 But if licentiousness or cruelty cannot be excused on 
 this ground, why should anger, revenge, or envy ! 
 Once let it be granted, that physical tendency is an ex- 
 cuse for any kind of sinful indulgence, no matter of 
 what kind, and you at once overturn the whole system 
 of Christian morals. 
 
 Besides, natural propensities, of the most impetuous 
 kinds, have been, in innumerable instances, not only 
 successfully resisted, but almost entirely vanquished. 
 We have known persons, who were once addicted to 
 all kinds of impure gratifications, but who have beconje 
 as distinguished for chastity as they once were for lewd- 
 ness ; drunkards have become sober ; men as furious 
 as enraged tigers, have become gentleness itself. It is 
 .said of that eminently holy and useful man, Mr. 
 FLETCHER, of MADELY, that " He was meek, like his 
 Master, as well as lowly in heart. Not that he was so 
 by nature, but a man of strong passions, and prone to 
 anger in particular ; insomuch that he has frequently
 
 63 
 
 spent the greater part of the night bathed in tears, im- 
 ploring victory over his own spirit. And he did not 
 strive in vain. He. did obtain the victory in a very 
 eminent degree. Yea, so thoroughly had grace subdu- 
 ed nature ; so fully was he renewed hi the spirit of his 
 mind ; that for many years before his death, I believe 
 he was never observed by any one, friend or foe, to be 
 out of temper on any provocation whatever. The tes- 
 timony that Bishop Burnet bears of Archbishop Leigh- 
 ton, might be borne of him with equal propriety. After 
 an intimate acquaintance with the Archbishop for many 
 years, and after being with him by night and by day, 
 at home and abroad, in public and in private ; I must 
 say, I never heard an idle word drop from his lips ; I 
 never saw him in any temper, in which. I myself would 
 not have wished to be found at death." What a cha- 
 racter ! What a testimony ! But it is not the beauty, 
 the inexpressible moral loveliness of it alone, which 
 should be remarked, but the convincing proof which 
 it furnishes;, that a naturally bad temper may be sub- 
 dued. Many instances of this kind have existed, which 
 accumulate accusation and reproach upon the man 
 who indulges in a sinful, constitutional tendency of any 
 kind, under the mistaken idea, that it is not only abso- 
 lutely invincible, but altogether irresistible. 
 
 That every thing which pertains to our physical na- 
 ture will remain after our conversion, is true, for grace 
 produces no change in the bodily organization ; and 
 that occasional ebullitions of inherent natural temper will 
 occur in our renewed state, is allowed, for very few at- 
 tain to Mr. Fletcher's eminence of piety ; but if we 
 are as passionate and revengeful, as proud and envious, 
 as selfish and unkind, as we were before our supposed 
 conversion, we may be assured that it is but a supposed 
 conversion. It is nothing, that we go regularly to 
 worship it is nothing, that we feel under sermons 
 it is nothing, that we have holy frames and feelings ; 
 for a heart under the predominant influence of irascible 
 passions, can no more have undergone the change of 
 the new birth, than one that is filled with a prevailing 
 6*
 
 54 
 
 lasciviousness : and where the heart is renewed, and 
 the badness of the temper is not constant, but only oc- 
 casional is not regnant, but only prominent, it is, 
 in so far as it prevails, a deduction from real piety. 
 
 True it is, that inherent natural tendency will require 
 more vigorous resistance and unsleeping vigilance, 
 more laborious effort, more painful mortification, more 
 earnest prayer, on the part of those who are conscious 
 of it, than is necessary on theirs in whom it does not 
 exist. It is not uncommon for such persons to be con- 
 tented with a few feeble struggles, and then to flatter 
 themselves with the idea that there is more grace dis- 
 played in those efforts than in the conduct of others, 
 who, being naturally good tempered, are never exposed 
 to their temptations. To adorn religion, will certainly 
 cost them far more labour than it does those of a bet- 
 ter natural temper ; just as a man afflicted with a weak- 
 ly constitution, or a chronic disease, must take more 
 pains with himself than one who has sound health and 
 he will, after all, look more sickly than the other ; but 
 as his bodily malady does exist, he must give himself 
 this trouble, or he cannot rationally expect the least 
 share of health : so it is with the soul, if the disease of 
 an evil temper be there, immense and unwearied pains 
 must be taken to resist and repress it. This is what is 
 meant by our " plucking out a right eye, or cutting off 
 a right hand ;" by " denying ourselves ;" by " morti- 
 fying the deeds of the body ;" by "the spirit struggling 
 against the flesh ;" by " casting aside every weight, and 
 the sin which doth most easily beset us." The sub- 
 jection of our temper to the controul of religion, is a 
 thing which must be done. It is that to which we must 
 apply, as to a matter of indispensable necessity ; it is an 
 object which we must accomplish by any mortification 
 of feeling, and by any expenditure of labour. The 
 virtues which we are about to consider, will spring up 
 in no soil without culture ; but there are some soils pe- 
 culiarly unfriendly to their growth, and in which pro- 
 ductions of an opposite kind thrive spontaneously, and 
 grow with frightful luxuriance : with these greater
 
 55 
 
 pains must be taken, and greater patience exercised, 
 till at length the beautiful imagery of the prophet shall 
 be realized " Instead of the thorn shall come up the 
 fir tree, and instead of the briar shall come up the myr- 
 tle tree ; and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an 
 everlasting sign that shall not be cut off." 
 
 But for effecting such a transformation, there must 
 be a degree of labour and painstaking, which very 
 few are willing to endure : " This kind goeth not forth 
 but by prayer and fasting." 
 
 To obtain this victory over ourselves, much time nTust 
 be spent in the closet much communion with God 
 must be maintained much strong crying with tears 
 must be poured forth. We must undergo what the 
 apostle calls, by a term very appropriate, as well as 
 strikingly descriptive, a " crucifixion ;" " we must 
 crucify the flesh with the affections and lusts thereof;" 
 " we must keep," or as the word signifies, " beat under 
 our body ;" we must bring our mind, from time to 
 time, under the influence of redeeming grace ; we 
 must ascend the hill of Calvary, and gaze upon that 
 scene of love, till our cold hearts melt, our hard hearts 
 soften, and all the cruel selfishness of our nature re- 
 laxes into gentleness ; we must make all the doctrines 
 of the Gospel, with all the motives they contain, bear 
 upon our nature : the example of the meek and lowly 
 Jesus must be contemplated, and admired, and copied ; 
 and especially, after all, must we breathe forth internal 
 longings for the influence of the Holy Ghost, without 
 whose aid our souls will no more yield to the influence 
 of motives than the polar ice will melt by the feeble 
 beams of the great northern constellation. We must 
 pray for the Spirit ; long for the Spirit ; expect the Spi- 
 rit ; live, walk, struggle, in the Spirit. Thus must we 
 set ourselves to work to obtain more of that love, which 
 alone can subdue our evil temper. 
 
 2. The properties here enumerated are ALL included in 
 love, and must ALL be sought by every real Christian. 
 
 The general disposition includes all these particular 
 and distinct operations, and opposes all these separate
 
 evils : it is as much opposed to envy as to revenge, and 
 is as humble as it is kind. Consequently, we are not to 
 select for ourselves such modes of its operation as we 
 may think most adapted to our taste and to our circum- 
 stances giving to these all our attention, and neglect- 
 ing the rest. One is not to say, " I am most inclined 
 to kindness, and I shall cherish this property, which I 
 find to be more easy and pleasant than to cultivate hu- 
 mility and meekness." Another is not to say, " I find 
 no great difficulty in forgiving injuries, and I shall prac- 
 tise this ; but as for envy, I am so prepense to it, that I 
 shall give up all attempts to eradicate this weed from my 
 heart." This parcelling out of the disposition, and se- 
 lecting that part which is most congenial to our consti- 
 tutional tendency, will not do. Yet is the attempt made 
 by many, who, to appease, in some measure, the clamo- 
 rous importunity of their conscience, and at the same 
 time to avoid the obligations of benevolence as a whole, 
 thus impose upon themselves with a supposed attention 
 to some partial view of the subject. They carry on a 
 wretched and useless attempt to balance those points in 
 which they succeed against those hi which they fail ; 
 their excellences against their defects. It may be said, 
 in reference to this 'law of our duty, as well as to the 
 still more comprehensive one, that " He that offendeth 
 but in one point is guilty of all ;" for that authority 
 which saith, " Be ye kind," saith also, " Thou shalt 
 not think evil of thy neighbour." These amiable pro- 
 perties must go together ; the general principle which 
 comprises them must be taken as a whole. It is one 
 and indivisible, and as such must be received by us. 
 " Charity is the bond of perfectness." Like the band 
 round the sheaf, it holds all the separate ears together. 
 Instead, therefore, of allowing ourselves to select, we 
 must open our hearts to its whole and undivided influ- 
 ence ; and if, indeed, there be any one of its properties 
 in which we are more than ordinarily deficient, to that 
 one we must direct a still greater portion of our attention. 
 3. These properties are perfectly homogeneous. They 
 are of the same nature, and are, therefore, helpful to
 
 57 
 
 each other. In reality, if we cultivate one, we are pre- 
 paring the way for others. There is no contrariety of 
 influence, no discordant operation, no clashing demands. 
 When we are rooting up one evil by love, we drag up 
 others with it : when we subdue pride, we weaken our 
 susceptibility of offence: when we cherish kindness, 
 we impoverish selfishness. This is an immense advan- 
 tage in the cultivation of the Christian temper; and it 
 shows us that if there be one besetting sinful propensity 
 in the heart, it draws all the energy of the mind to it- 
 self, and throws a dark and chilling shadow over the 
 whole soul. The subjugation of this one bad temper 
 will weaken many others that depend for existence upon 
 its support ; and make way for an opposite excellence, 
 which is as extensively beneficial as the other was inju- 
 rious. This is a powerful incentive to the arduous and 
 necessary duty of self-improvement : an evil disposi- 
 tion eradicated, is a good one implanted ; and one good 
 one implanted, is a way made for others to follow. 
 
 4. As these properties, while they are separate as to 
 their nature, all unite in a common and generic disposition, 
 our fast and chief attention must be to that which is the 
 common principle. These tempers are so many modes 
 in which love operates so many streams from a com- 
 mon fountain, so many branches from the same root. 
 While, therefore, we seek to guide the separate streams, 
 and trim the different branches aright, our care must be 
 exercised chiefly in reference to the parent source. 
 We must aim steadily, and labour constantly, at the in- 
 crease of love itself. We must do every thing we can 
 to strengthen the principle of benevolence to man. 
 In every step of our progress through the treatise be- 
 fore us, we must constantly keep in mind its connexion 
 with this great master principle. The way to abound 
 in the effects is to increase the power of the cause. 
 
 5. We are to recollect, that these properties are to 
 be expected only in proportion to the degree in which love 
 itself exists in the heart. 
 
 On reading this chapter, and seeing what is required 
 of the Christian, and comparing it with the usual con-
 
 58 
 
 duct of religious people, we feel almost involuntarily 
 led to say, " If this be love, where then, except in 
 heaven, is it to be found?" To this I reply, the apostle 
 does not say that every man who pretends to this virtue 
 acts thus ; nor does he say that every one who pos- 
 sesses it acts thus in all instances, but that love itself 
 does it. This is the way in which it acts, when allowed 
 to exert its own energies ; if it were suffered to have 
 its full scope, and to bear sway in us without any 
 check, this would be the invariable effect : our not see- 
 ing, therefore, a perfect exemplification of this prin- 
 ciple, is no proof that it does not possess these proper- 
 ties, but only that we are imperfectly under its influ- 
 ence. This branch of piety, like every other, may be 
 possessed in various degrees ; and, of course, it is only 
 in proportion as we possess the disposition that we shall 
 manifest its operations. This should prepare us to dis- 
 tinguish between the utter want and the weakness of 
 love ; a distinction necessary from our proneness to 
 despondency in reference to ourselves, and to censori- 
 ousness in reference to our neighbours.
 
 *- * 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE MEEKNESS OP LOVE. 
 
 " Charily sufl'ereth long is not easily provoked." 
 
 I CLASS these two together, because they bear a near 
 affinity to each other. The word in the original trans- 
 lated " suffereth long," signifies " to have a long mind," 
 to the end of whose patience, provocations cannot ea- 
 sily reach. It does not mean patience in reference to 
 the afflictions which come from God, but to the injuries 
 and provocations which come from manperhaps the 
 most correct idea which we can attach to it is, forbear- 
 ance; a disposition which, under long continued of- 
 fences, holds back anger, and is not hasty to punish or 
 to revenge. Its kindred property, here classed with it, 
 is nearly allied to it, " is not easily provoked," or " is 
 not exasperated." The word signifies a violent emo- 
 tion of the mind, a paroxysm of anger ; so that the 
 distinction between the two terms appears to be this, 
 the property intended by the latter seems to be the 
 power of love to curb our wrath, and that intended by 
 the former its ability to repress revenge. 
 
 There are three things which Christian love, in re- 
 ference to the irascible passions, will prevent.
 
 1. An irritable and petulant disposition. There is. in 
 some persons an excessive liability to be offended ; a 
 morbid sensibility, which is kindled to anger by the 
 least possible injury, whether that injury be intentional 
 or unintentional. They are all combustible, and ignite 
 by a spark. A word, nay a look, is enough to inflame 
 them. They are ever ready to quarrel with any, or 
 every body ; and remind us of what Cromwell said of 
 John Lilburne, " that he was so quarrelsome, that if he 
 could find nobody else to quarrel with, John would 
 quarrel with Lilburne, and Lilburne with John." The 
 whole soul seems one entire sensitiveness of offence. 
 Instead of " suffering long," they do not suffer at all ; 
 and instead of not being easily provoked, they are pro- 
 voked by anything, and sometimes by nothing. Love 
 will prevent all this, and produce a disposition the very 
 reverse. It is concerned for the happiness of others ; 
 and will not wantonly afflict them, and render them 
 wretched, by such an exhibition of unlovely and un- 
 christian temper. It will remove this diseased sensibi- 
 lity, and, without blunting the natural feelings, will calm 
 this sinful excitability. Many things it will not see or 
 hear judging them quite beneath its dignity to notice ; 
 others it will pass by, as not of sufficient consequence 
 to require explanation. It will keep a strict guard over 
 its feelings, holding the rein with a tight hand. Its 
 first business is with the disposition itself. This is im- 
 portant for us to notice ; for if we indulge the feeling 
 of anger, it will be impossible to smother the flame in 
 our bosom ; like the burning materials of a volcano, it 
 will at length burst out in fiery eruptions. Here, then, 
 is our first object : to gain that forbearance of disposi- 
 tion, which docs not allow itself to be irritated or 
 soured ; to acquire that command, not only over our 
 words and actions, but over our emotions, which shall 
 make us patient and tranquil amidst insults and inju- 
 ries which shall keep down the temperament of the 
 soul, and preserve the greatest coolness. Irritability, 
 I know, is in part a physical quality ; but it is in 
 our power, by God's help to calm it Love will mak
 
 61 
 
 us willing to think the best of those with whom we have 
 to do ; it will disarm us of that suspicion and mistrust, 
 which make us regard every body as intending to injure 
 us ; will cause us to find out pleas for those who have 
 done us harm, and when this is impossible, will lead us 
 to pity their weakness or forgive their wickedness. 
 
 What an enemy to himself is an irritable man ! He is 
 a self-tormentor of the worst kind. He is scarcely ever 
 at peace. His bosom is always in a state of tumult. To 
 him the calm sunshine of the breast is unknown. A 
 thousand petty vexations disturb his repose. Unhappy 
 man, even though he so far succeed, as to restrain the 
 agitations of his mind from bursting out into passion, yet 
 has he the burning sense of torment within. Regard 
 to his own happiness, as well as to the happiness of 
 others, calls upon him to cultivate that love, which 
 shall allay the inflammatory state of his mind, and re- 
 store a soundness which will not be thus wounded by 
 every touch. 
 
 2. The next thing which love prevents, is immoderate 
 anger ; that anger which the apostle has described in 
 the expression we are now elucidating, as amounting to 
 a paroxysm of wrath ; or which, in ordinary language, 
 we call " being in a passion." It would be to oppose 
 both reason and revelation, to assert that all anger is 
 sin. " Be ye angry," saith the apostle, " and sin not." 
 " A violent suppression of the natural feelings is not, 
 perhaps, the best expedient for obviating their injurious 
 effects ; and though nothing requires a more vigilant 
 restraint than the emotion of anger, the uneasiness of 
 which it is productive is, perhaps, best allayed by its 
 natural and temperate expression ; not to say that it is a 
 wise provision in the economy of nature, for the ex- 
 pression of injury and the preservation of the peace 
 and decorum of society." A wise and temperate ex- 
 pression of our displeasure against injuries or offences, 
 is by no means incompatible with Christian love ; this 
 grace intending only to check those furious sallies of 
 our wrath, which are tormenting to ourselves and inju- 
 rious to those with whom we have to do. Sinful angefc 
 
 7
 
 62 
 
 is lamentably common, and is not sufficiently subdued 
 among the professors of religion. In cases of offence, 
 they are too often excited to criminal degrees of passion ; 
 their countenance is flushed, their brow lowers, their 
 eye darts indignant flashes, and their tongue pours forth 
 loud and stormy words of reviling accusations. To di- 
 minish and prevent this disposition, let us dwell much 
 upon the evil consequences of it. 
 
 It disturbs our peace, and interrupts our happiness ; 
 and this is an evil about which we ought not to be in- 
 different. A p assionate man cannot be a happy man ; 
 he is the victim of a temper, which, like a serpent, dwells 
 in his bosom to sting and torment him. 
 
 It destroys the comfort of those with whom he has to 
 do : his children often bear the fury of the tempest ; 
 his wife has her cup of conjugal felicity embittered by 
 the venom ; his servants tremble as at the rage of a ty- 
 rant ; and those with whom he transacts the business of 
 this life dread the gusts of his passion, by which they 
 have often been rendered uncomfortable. He is a 
 common disturber of the circle in which he moves. 
 
 It interrupts his enjoyment of religion, brings guilt 
 upon his conscience, and unfits him for the season and 
 the act of communion with God. A beautiful illustra- 
 tion of this part of the subject may be here introduced 
 from one of the most striking of English writers : 
 " Prayer is the peace of our spirit, the stillness of our 
 thoughts, the evenness of recollection, the seat of medi- 
 tation, the rest of our cares, -and the calm of our tem- 
 pest ; prayer is the issue of a quiet mind, of untroubled 
 thoughts ; it is the daughter of charity, and the sister of 
 meekness : and he that prays to God with an angry, 
 that is, with a troubled and discomposed spirit, is like 
 him that retires into a battle to meditate, and sets up 
 his closet in the out-quarters of an army, and chooses 
 a frontier garrison to be wise in. Anger is a perfect 
 alienation of the mind from prayer, and, therefore, is 
 contrary to that attention which presents our prayers 
 in a right line to God. For so have I seen a lark ri- 
 sing from his bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing
 
 63 
 
 as he rises, and hopes to get to heaven, and climb above 
 the clouds : but the poor bird was beaten back with the 
 loud sighings of an eastern wind, and his motion made 
 irregular and inconstant descending more at every 
 breath of the tempest, than it could recover by the libra- 
 tion and frequent weighing of his wings ; till the little 
 creature was forced to sit down and pant, and stay till 
 the storm was over, and then it made a prosperous 
 llight, and did rise and sing as if it had learned music 
 and motion from an angel, as he passed sometimes 
 through the air about his ministries here below. So is 
 the prayer of a good man : when his affairs have requi- 
 red business, and his business was matter of discipline, 
 and his discipline was to pass upon a sinning person, or 
 had a design of charity ; his duty met with the infirmi- 
 ties of a man, and anger was its instrument ; and the 
 instrument became stronger than the prime agent, and 
 raised a tempest, and overruled the man ; and then his 
 prayer was broken, and his thoughts were troubled, and 
 his words went up towards a cloud, and his thoughts 
 pulled them back again, and made them without inten- 
 tion : and the good man sighs for his infirmity, but must 
 be content to lose the prayer ; and he must recover it 
 when his anger is removed, and his spirit is becalmed 
 made even as the brow of Jesus and smooth as the heart 
 of God ; and then it ascends to heaven upon the wings 
 of the holy dove, and dwells with God, till it returns, 
 like the useful bee, laden with a blessing and the dew 
 of heaven."* 
 
 Sinful anger dishonours religion, and causes the ways 
 of godliness to be spoken ill of. The mists of passion 
 envelope religion with a dense medium, through which 
 its lustre is but dimly seen. A passionate Christian is 
 an object of sport to the profane, a butt of ridicule to 
 fools, whose scorn is reflected from him upon piety itself. 
 
 But, perhaps, it will be said, " Tell us how we may 
 cure the disposition ; its existence we admit, and its evil 
 we know by experience, and deplore." I say, then, 
 
 * Bishop Jeremy Taylor.
 
 64 
 
 Look at the disposition as it really is, attentively con- 
 sider its evil nature, and trace its mischievous conse- 
 quences. " Anger sets the house on fire, and all the 
 spirits are busy upon trouble, and intend propulsion and 
 defence, displeasure, and revenge ; it is a short mad- 
 ness, and an eternal enemy to discourse, and sober 
 counsels, and fair conversation ; it is a fever in the 
 heart, and a calenture in the head, and a fire in the 
 face, and a sword in the hand, and a fury all over. It 
 hath in it the trouble of sorrow, and the heats of lust, 
 and the disease of revenge ; and the bodings of a fever, 
 and the rashness of precipitancy, and the disturbance of 
 persecution. If it proceed from a great cause, it turns 
 to fury ; if from a small cause, it is peevishness : and 
 so it is always terrible or ridiculous. It makes a man's 
 body deformed aud contemptible, the voice horrid, the 
 eyes cruel, the face pale or fiery, the gait fierce. It is 
 neither manly nor ingenuous, and is a passion fitter for 
 flies and wasps than for persons professing nobleness 
 and bounty. It is a confluence of all the irregular pas- 
 sions. There is in it envy and scorn, fear and sorrow, 
 pride and prejudice, rashness and inconsideration, re- 
 joicing in evil, and a desire to inflict it."* 
 
 Such is the portraiture of this disposition, drawn by 
 the hand of no mean artist. Let the passionate man 
 look at the picture, and learn to hate it ; for, like an in- 
 furiated serpent, it need only be seen to be abhorred. 
 
 Let us reject all excuses for the indulgence of it ; for so 
 long as we palliate it, we shall not attempt to mortify 
 it It cannot be defended, either on the ground of 
 constitutional tendency, or the greatness of the provo- 
 cation, or the suddenness of the offence, or the tran- 
 sient duration of the fit, or that there is less evil in gusts 
 of anger than hi seasons of sullenness : no nothing 
 can justify it : and if we are sincere in our desires to 
 control it, we shall admit that it is indefensible and 
 criminal, and condemn it without hesitation or ex- 
 tenuation. 
 
 * Bijfaop Jeremy Taylor.
 
 65 
 
 We must be persuaded that it is possible to control it ; 
 for if we despair of victory, we shall not engage in the 
 conflict. Hope of success is essential to success itself. 
 
 It is certain that by using right means a hasty tem- 
 per may be subdued, for it has been conquered in very 
 many instances. It is said of SOCRATES, the wisest 
 and most virtuous of heathen sages, that in the midst of 
 domestic vexations and public disorders, he maintained 
 such an undisturbed serenity, that he was never seen 
 to leave his own house or return to it with a ruffled 
 countenance. If on any occasion he felt a propensity 
 to anger, he checked the rising storm by lowering the 
 tone of his voice, and resolutely assuming a more than 
 usual gentleness of aspect and manner. He not only 
 refrained from acts of revenge, but triumphed over his 
 adversaries, by disregarding the insults and injuries they 
 offered him. This was more remarkable, as in acqui- 
 ring this dominion over his passions, he had to struggle 
 against natural propensities which ran in an opposite 
 direction. ZOPHYRUS, an eminent physiognomist, de- 
 clared that he discovered in the features of the philoso- 
 pher evident traces of many vicious inclinations : the 
 friends of SOCRATES, who were present, ridiculed the 
 ignorance of this pretender to extraordinary sagacity ; 
 but the Sage ingenuously acknowledged the penetration 
 of ZOPHYRUS, and confessed that he was naturally 
 prone to vice, but that he had subdued his inclinations by 
 the power of reason and philosophy. Let professing 
 Christians learn, from this distinguished heathen, that it 
 is possible to subdue natural temper, however bad and 
 however violent it may be. 
 
 Make its cure a matter of desire. What we ardently 
 long for, we shall vigorously pursue. Confess your 
 sin : frankly say, " I am indeed too irritable, too pas- 
 sionate, too revengeful. I see the sinfulness of indulg- 
 ing such a temper ; I am disturbed and disgraced by it ; 
 and by God's help I will subdue it. I will spare no 
 pains, shrink from no sacrifice, be discouraged by no 
 defeat, till I gain the victory over myself." 
 
 Meditate upon the patience of God, who bears with 
 7*
 
 66 
 
 your innumerable offences against Him, and forgives 
 them all. Consider the example of Jesus Christ, who 
 meekly " endured the contradiction of sinners against 
 himself; and amidst ingratitude, insults, and provoca- 
 tions of the basest kind, was mild as the morning sun 
 in autumn." 
 
 Seek to acquire a habit of self-control a power over 
 your feelings, which shall enable you to be ever on 
 your guard, and to repress the first emotions of passion. 
 If possible, seal your lips in silence when the storm is 
 rising : shut up your anger in your own bosom, and, like 
 fire that wants air and vent, it will soon expire. Angry 
 words often prove a fan to the spark : many persons, 
 who in the beginning are but slightly displeased, talk 
 themselves at length into a violent passion. Never 
 speak till you are cool ; the man who can command 
 his tongue, will find no difficulty in governing his spirit. 
 And when you do speak, let it be in meekness : " a 
 soft answer turneth away wrath." "When you see 
 others angry, let it be an admonition to you to be cool ; 
 thus you will receive the furious indiscretions of others, 
 like a stone into a bed of moss, where it will lie quietly 
 without rebounding. 
 
 Stop your anger in the beginning. It is easier to put 
 out a spark than a conflagration. It would be well 
 always to terminate the conversation, and quit the com- 
 pany of an individual, when anger is creeping in. 
 " Go from the presence of a foolish man, when thou 
 perceivest not in him the lips of knowledge." 
 
 Avoid disputations, which often engender strifes ; and 
 especially avoid them in reference to persons of known 
 irritability. Who would contend with a snake or a 
 hornet 1 
 
 Brood not over injuries ; " Else," says Mr. Baxter, 
 " you will be devils to yourselves, tempt yourselves 
 when you have no others to tempt you, and make your 
 solitude as dangerously provoking as company."* 
 
 * Baxter's Catholic Direction* ; from which vast fund of practical 
 theology, many of the particulars of this chapter are derived.
 
 67 
 
 Beware of tale-bearers, and do not suffer their reports 
 to rouse your resentments. 
 
 " Be not inquisitive into the affairs of other men, nor 
 the faults of thy servants, nor the mistakes of thy 
 friends ; lest thou go out to gather sticks to kindle a 
 fire, which shall burn thine own house." 
 
 Look at others who are addicted to passion, and see 
 how unlovely they appear. 
 
 Commission some faithful and affectionate friend to 
 watch over and admonish you. 
 
 But especially mortify pride and cultivate HUMILITY, 
 " Only by pride cometh contention." " He that is 
 of a proud heart, stirreth up strife." Passion is the 
 daughter of pride, meekness the offspring of humility. 
 Humility is the best cure for anger, sullenness, and re- 
 venge. He that thinks much of himself, will think 
 much of every little offence committed against him ; 
 while he that thinks little of his own importance, will 
 think lightly of what is done to offend him. Every 
 irritable, passionate, or revengeful person, is certainly 
 a proud one, and should begin the cure of his passion 
 by the removal of his pride. 
 
 But we need go no further than the chapter before 
 us, for an antidote to anger. LOVE is sufficient of 
 itself; we must seek to have more of this heavenly 
 virtue. Love cannot be either passionate or revenge- 
 ful. Love is full of benevolence and good-will, and 
 therefore cannot allow itself to indulge those tempers 
 which are unfriendly to the happiness of mankind. 
 Let us seek to strengthen this parent principle, which 
 will prevent the growth of whatever is evil, and pro- 
 mote the advancement of all that is excellent. 
 
 One caution may here be suggested for the encour- 
 agement of those who are particularly tried with an 
 irritable temper, and that is not to despond ; if, in 
 the work of mortification, they meet with many de- 
 feats, do not be in a passion with yourselves, for being 
 in a passion, for this will only increase the evil you are 
 anxious to destroy. Go calmly, yet courageously, to 
 the conflict ; if victorious be not elated, if defeated be
 
 68 
 
 not disheartened. Often you will have to mourn your 
 failures, and sometimes be ready to imagine that you 
 are doomed to the hopeless task of Sysiphus, whose 
 stone always rolled back again, when, by immense la- 
 bour, he had urged it nearly to the summit of the hill 
 Do not expect an easy or a perfect conquest. Mourn 
 your defeats, but do not despair. Many, after a few 
 unsuccessful efforts, give up the cause, and abandon 
 themselves to the tyranny of their passions. In this 
 conflict, unsuccessful struggles are more honourable 
 than unresisting submission. 
 
 3. Love will of course prevent revenge. 
 
 Revenge is a term that a Christian should blot out 
 from his vocabulary with his own penitential tears, or 
 with the drops of his gratitude for the pardon he has 
 received from God. There is no passion more hostile 
 to the very genius of Christianity, or more frequently 
 forbidden by its authority, than this ; and there is none 
 to which the depravity of human nature more power- 
 fully excites us. The volume of history is stained, 
 from the beginning to the end, with the blood which has 
 been shed by the demon of revenge. Mankind, in 
 every age and country, have groaned under the misery 
 inflicted by this restless and cruel spirit, which no mis- 
 chief can satisfy, no suffering appease. Revenge has 
 converted men into wild beasts, and inspired them with 
 a wish to tear each other to pieces. It is not likely 
 that such a temper as this would meet with the least 
 toleration or sanction in the religion of the meek and 
 lowly Jesus, whose person was an incarnation, and 
 whose Gospel is an emanation, of love. Revenge is 
 admitted by some as justifiable to a certain extent : by 
 the reasoning and conduct of the world, the principle 
 is allowed, yea honoured, and only condemned in its 
 most vicious excess. Wars, duels, railings, private 
 animosities, that do not infringe on the peace of so- 
 ciety, are all justified on this ground. Mankind alter 
 the golden rule, and do unto others, not as they would 
 that others should do, but as others do unto them in a 
 way of evil ; and this, so far from being blamed, is
 
 69 
 
 generally applauded as honourable and dignified. In 
 the estimate of the people of the world, the man who 
 refuses to resent an injury which he has received, is a 
 poor mean-spirited creature, unworthy to associate 
 with men of honour. 
 
 But whatever may be the maxims of the world, re- 
 venge is certainly forbidden by every page of the Word 
 of God. " The discretion of a man deferreth his anger, 
 and it is his glory to pass over a transgression." Pri- 
 vate revenge was certainly forbidden under the Old 
 Testament, and still more explicitly under the New. 
 " Blessed are the poor in spirit," said our Lord, " for 
 theirs is the kingdom of heaven." " Blessed are the 
 meek, for they shall inherit the earth." " Ye have 
 heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a 
 tooth for a tooth : but I say unto you, That ye resist 
 not evil. Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou 
 shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy : but I 
 say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse 
 you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them 
 that despitefully use you, and persecute you ; that ye 
 may be the children of your Father which is in heaven." 
 The same sentiments are enjoined by the apostles. 
 " Recompense to no man evil for evil. If it be possi- 
 ble, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men. 
 Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give 
 place unto wrath : for it is written, Vengeance is mine ; 
 I will repay, saith the Lord. Therefore, if thine enemy 
 hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink ; for in 
 so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head. Be 
 not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good*" 
 These passages are decisive upon the point, that revenge 
 in any form, or in any measure, is forbidden by the 
 Christian religion. 
 
 The misfortune of many is, that they mistake the 
 meaning of the term revenge or rather they confine its 
 application to the grosser, more mischievous, and more 
 violent expressions of wrath : they think that nothing is 
 revenge but cutting or maiming the person, openly 
 slandering the reputation, or wantonly injuring the pro-
 
 ; 
 
 perty. Such, it rriust be admitted, are fearful ebullitions 
 of this destructive passion ; but they are not the only 
 ways in which it expresses itself. There are a thou- 
 sand petty acts of spite and ill will, by which a revenge- 
 ful spirit may operate. If we refuse to speak to another 
 by whom we have been injured, and pass him with silent 
 or manifest scorn'; if we -take delight in talking of ins 
 failings, and in lowering him in the opinion of others ; 
 if we show ill will to his children or relations on his ac- 
 count : if we watch for an opportunity to perform some 
 little act of annoyance towards him, and feel gratified 
 in the thought that we have given him trouble or pain ; 
 all this is done in a spirit of retaliation, and is as truly, 
 though not so dreadfully, the actings of revenge, as if 
 we proceeded to inflict bodily injury. .The spirit of re- 
 venge simply means returning evil for evil, and taking 
 pleasure in doing so. It may go to the extremes of 
 calumny and murder, or may confine itself to the inflic- 
 tion of minor wrongs ; but if we, in any way, resent an 
 injury with ill will towards the persons who committed 
 it, this is revenge. 
 
 A question will here arise, whether, according to this 
 view, we are not forbidden to defend our persons, our 
 property, and our reputation, from the aggressions of 
 lawless mischief? Certainly not. If an assassin attempt 
 to maim or to murder me, I am allowed to resist the at- 
 tack, even to extremity ; for this is not avenging an evil, 
 but an effort to prevent one. If our character in socie- 
 ty be aspersed, we must endeavour, by peaceful means, 
 to gain an apology and exculpation; and if this cannot 
 be obtained, we are authorized to appeal to the law : 
 for, if calumny were not punished, society could not ex- 
 ist. If, however, instead of appealing to the law, we 
 were to calumniate in return ; if we were to inflict bodi- 
 ly injury on the aggressor, or take delight in injuring 
 him in other ways ; Ibis would be revenge ; but to seek 
 the protection of the law, without; at the same time, in- 
 dulging in malice, this is self-defence, and the defence 
 of society. If we are injured, or are likely to be injur 
 red, in our property, we must try, by all private and
 
 71 
 
 honourable means, to prevent the aggression ; be willing 
 to settle the affair by the mediation of wise and impar- 
 tial men, and keep our minds free from anger, ill will, 
 and malice, towards the aggressors : and, as a last re- 
 source, we are justifiable in submitting the cause, if it 
 cannot be settled by any other means, to the decision 
 of a court of justice. No Christian should resort to the 
 tribunal of public justice till every method of private 
 adjustment has failed. 
 
 As it respects the propriety of Christians going to 
 law with each other, the testimony of the apostle is deci- 
 sive. " Dare any of you, having a matter against 
 another, to go to law before the unjust, and not before 
 the saints 1 Do ye not know that the saints shall judge 
 the world ] and if the world shall be judged by you, are 
 ye unworthy to judge the smallest matters 1 Know ye 
 not that we shall judge angels 1 how much more things 
 that pertain to this life ? If then ye have judgments of 
 things pertaining to this life, set them to judge who are 
 least esteemed in the Church. I speak to your shame. 
 Is It so, that there is not a wise man among you ? no, 
 not one that shall be able to judge between his bre- 
 thren 1 But brother goeth to law with brother, and that 
 before the unbelievers. Now, therefore, there is ut- 
 terly a fault among you, because ye go to law one with 
 another. Why do ye not rather take wrong? why do 
 ye not rather suffer yourselves to be defrauded 1" Men 
 professing godliness, especially members of the same 
 religious community, ought, in cases of difference 
 about property or character, to settle all their disputes 
 by the mediation of their own brethren ; and if either 
 party decline such arbitration, he must be accountable 
 for all the scandal- thrown on the Christian profession 
 by the legal measures to which the other may find it 
 necessary to resort for the protection of his rights. In 
 this case, the guilt of infringing the apostolic regulation 
 lies on him who refuses to accede to this scriptural 
 method of settling the differences that may arise among 
 those who profess to be the disciples of Christ. What- 
 ever award is made, in the case of private arbitration,
 
 both parties should abide by it ; nor must the individual 
 against whom the decision is given, feel any ill will, or 
 cherish any revenge, towards his successful competitor. 
 The law of love requires that innumerable minor of- 
 fences should be passed over without being noticed, or 
 suffered to disturb our peace of mind. And those 
 which we find it necessary to have explained, require 
 the utmost caution and delicacy. In these cases, love 
 will lead us to the offender, in the spirit of meekness, to 
 ask, not to demand to solicit, in the most gentle man- 
 ner an explanation of the injurious treatment. In a 
 great majority of cases, this line of conduct would stifle 
 the animosity while it is yet a spark. If, on the con- 
 trary, we permit ourselves to take offence, and have 
 our feelings wounded, or our anger roused ; if, instead 
 of mildly and affectionately expostulating, and seeking 
 reconciliation, we brood over the injury, and retire in 
 disgust, to indulge in sullenness, or to watch for an op- 
 portunity of revenge ; this is being " easily provok- 
 ed," and the very opposite of " suffering long."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ON THE KINDNESS OF LOVE. 
 
 "Charity is kind.' 
 
 IT is a decisive proof, and a striking display, of the 
 excellence of the Christian religion, that it enjoins not 
 only the loftier and more rigid excellences of the hu- 
 man character, but those also which are delicately 
 amiable and tender ; npt only the masculine virtues, 
 but the feminine graces'; in short, that it not only pre- 
 pares its possessor to be a patriot on the great theatre 
 of his country, or a spectacle of heroic martyrdom to 
 God, to angels, and to men, but a sympathizing friend 
 in the social and domestic circles. Love can either 
 expand its benevolence to the claims of the whole hu- 
 man family, or concentrate its emotions, for a time, in 
 one individual object of pity, or affection. " Love is 
 kind." Kindness means a disposition to please an 
 anxiety, manifested by our conduct, to promote the 
 comfort of our species. Pity commiserates their sor- 
 rows, mercy relieves their wants and mitigates their 
 woes; but kindness is a general attention to their com- 
 fort It is thus described and distinguished by a cele- 
 brated writer on English synonymes. "The terms 
 affectionate and fond characterize foelinas ; kind is an 
 
 8
 
 74 
 
 epithet applied to outward actions, as well as inward 
 feelings ; a disposition is affectionate or fond ; a be- 
 haviour is kind. A person is affectionate, who has the 
 abject of his regard strongly in his mind, who partici- 
 pates in his pleasures and in his pains, and is pleased 
 with his society, A person is kind, who expresses a 
 tender sentiment, or does any service in a pleasant 
 manner. Relatives should be affectionate to each 
 other ; we should be kind to all who stand in need of 
 our kindness." Kindness, then, appears to be an af- 
 fectionate behaviour. This is what the apostle means, 
 when he admonishes us to "be kindly affectioned one 
 to another." 
 
 Let us view the kind man in contrast with some 
 other characters. 
 
 He is opposed to the rigid, severe, and censorious 
 person, who will make no allowance for the infirmities 
 or inexperience of others ; but judges harshly, reproves 
 sternly, and speaks severely of all who do not come up 
 to his standard. Kindness, on the contrary, makes all 
 reasonable allowances, frames the best excuses it can, 
 consistently with truth and holiness ; speaks of the 
 offender in a way of mitigation, and to him in a way of 
 compassion ; does not publish nor exaggerate his faults, 
 and endeavours to find out some redeeming qualities to 
 set off against his failings. 
 
 A kind man is opposed to a proud and overbearing 
 one. The latter is ever seeking an opportunity to dis- 
 play his superiority, and make you feel your inferiority ; 
 and cares not how much your feelings are hurt by this 
 offensive exhibition of his consequence. Kindness, if 
 conscious, as it sometimes must be, of its superiority, 
 takes care that those who are below it shall not feel a 
 painful sense of their inferiority. Without removing 
 the distinctions of social life, or sacrificing its dignity, 
 it will conceal as much as possible, its pre-eminence, 
 or unite it with such affability as shall render it by no 
 means unpleasant. 
 
 Kindness is opposed to coldness and selfishness of dis- 
 position. There are persons who, though neither cruel,
 
 nor injurious, nor really hard-hearted, are yet so cold, 
 and distant, and retiring, and repulsive, that they can 
 neither be approached nor moved. They look upon 
 the scenes around them with the fixed and beamless 
 eye, the dullness and quiescence, of the statue, for they 
 have no interest in the concerns of the world. But 
 kindness is the visible expression of a feeling and me?- 
 ciful heart ; it is the goings forth of a tender and sus- 
 ceptible mind ; it claims kindred with the human race ; 
 it is all ear to listen all heart to feel all eye to exa- 
 mine and to weep all hand and foot to relieve ; it in- 
 vites the sufferer with kind words, and sends him not 
 empty away. 
 
 ' Kindness is opposed to a vain and ostentatious liberal- 
 ity. Some will be charitable, if they may have spec- 
 tators of their good deeds, who shall go and proclaim 
 their alms : thus the weaknesses of human nature often 
 come in the place of duty, and supply the want of prin- 
 ciple, though certainly without any advantage to their 
 possessor. They spoil the action by their mode of 
 performing it ; for they will, in the most indelicate 
 manner, make the object of their bounty feel a painful 
 sense of obligation : they will state the exact amount, 
 almost in pecuniary value, of the favours they have 
 conferred ; and then go away and give such publicity 
 to their doings, that the beneficiary is almost every- 
 where sure to hear of what has been done for him. 
 
 Kindness will, on the other hand, conceal, as much 
 as possible, that it is actually conferring a favour ; will 
 do every thing to cause it to descend lightly upon the 
 spirit of the recipient ; and would, if circumstances 
 allowed, gladly extend relief from behind a veil which 
 hides the giver, and does every thing to prevent the 
 sense of obligation from being either painful or oppres- 
 sive. 
 
 Kindness is opposed to the benevolence of partiality, 
 prejudice, and caprice. There are not a few who are 
 lavish in their fondness towards persons of their own 
 party, or upon those who happen to be their favourites 
 for the time ; but for any beyond their own circle of
 
 76 
 
 partizans, or of their select friends, they have none of 
 the charities -of life their benevolent regards ate pure- 
 ly sectarian, or absolutely capricious. But kindness is 
 a clear perennial spring, rising up from a heart replete 
 with universal philanthropy, holding on its way, unim- 
 peded by prejudices or partialities, and distributing its 
 benefits alike upon all that it meets with in its course. 
 
 Having thus contrasted kindness with some charac- 
 teristics to which it is opposed, let us now consider the 
 manner in which it acts. 
 
 It expresses itself in words that are calculated to 
 please. As not only our words, but the tones of our 
 voice, are indicative of our thoughts and feelings, it is 
 of consequence for us to be careful, both in what we 
 say, and how we say it. Half of the quarrels which 
 disturb the peace of society arise from unkind words, 
 and not a few from unkind tones. We should sedu- 
 lously avoid a sour, morose, chiding mode of speech, 
 and adopt a soothing, conciliatory, and affectionate 
 style of address. A surly tone is calculated to wound 
 or offend, and love, which carries the law of kindness 
 upon its lips, will, consequently, avoid it. A snappish, 
 petulant, scolding address, is in the highest degree re- 
 pulsive and dissonant in the intercourse of society. 
 We may not have, it is true, the music of sound in our 
 speech, but it is our own fault if we have not the music 
 of love. We need not employ grimace, fawning syco- 
 phancy, hollow and unmeaning compliment, but we 
 may be courteous, and affectionate ; and we ought to 
 " let our speech' be seasoned with salt, that it may 
 minister grace to the hearers." Every word, and 
 every modulation of the voice, that is likely to offend, 
 should be studiously avoided, and will be avoided by 
 kindness, which extends, also, to actions. It is anxious 
 not to give offence by any thing' which it does : it is 
 most delicately tender in reference to the feelings of its 
 object, and would not unnecessarily crush the wing of 
 an insect, much less inflict a wound upon a. rational 
 mind. There arc persons who, in a spirit of selfish 
 independence, care not whom they please, or whom
 
 77 
 
 they offend ; but love is as anxious not to offend, as it 
 is solicitous about its own gratification : its neighbour's 
 comfort is as dear to it as his own : it calculates, deli- 
 berates, weighs the tendency of actions, and, when by 
 incaution, or pure misfortune, it has occasioned dis- 
 tress, it hastens, by every practicable means, to heal 
 the wound. 
 
 Kindness not only abstains from actual injury, but it 
 is active in conferring benefits watches for an opportu- 
 nity to please is ever ready to afford its assistance 
 when appealed to, and is not satisfied, unless it can 
 do something to increase the general stock of comfort. 
 It accommodates itself to their habits, partialities, or pre- 
 judices ; adapts itself, in things indifferent and lawful, 
 to their modes of acting, and does not wantonly oppose 
 their predilections, when such resistance would occasion 
 them distress. A stiff, uncomplying behaviour, which 
 consults nothing but its own humour, and which will 
 not sacrifice the least punctilio of its own habits, to 
 give pleasure, has not a particle of beneficence about it. 
 Such an individual is like a person in a crowd, who 
 will walk with his arms stretched out, or with annoying 
 weapons in his hand. 
 
 It extends, of course, to little things, as well as to 
 great ones. The happiness or misery of life does not 
 consist so much in the transport of joy, or the anguish 
 of affliction, as in feelings of an inferior kind which, 
 though less violent, are more frequent than those strong 
 emotions. Hence it is in our power to make others 
 miserable in life ; not, perhaps, by deeds of cruelty or 
 injustice, which we dare not, or cannot commit, as by 
 indulging in unaccommodating dispositions towards them 
 by vexing them with acts of unkindness, which will 
 neither blast our reputation, nor put in peril our pro- 
 perty, liberty, or life : and it is also in our power to 
 make them happy, not so much by signal and material 
 services, which are seldom called for at our hands, as 
 by the inferior offices of benevolence. The daily, and 
 almost hourly reciprocity of little acts of good or ill 
 8*
 
 will, which we have an opportunity of performing, go 
 a great way to the making up of good or bad neigh- 
 bourhood. There are those who, hi the greater ex- 
 pressions of Christian mercy, are really humane ; whose 
 benevolence at the same time has not learnt to stoop to 
 little things : they are compassionate, but they want 
 kindness : they would relieve a starving beggar, but 
 they would not put themselves in ever so small a degree 
 out of their way, to accommodate, in trivial matters, a 
 near neighbour. 
 
 Kindness is universal in its objects. We have known 
 individuals who could never do enough for some objects 
 of their regard, but they are by no means persons of 
 diffusive kindness ; and, perhaps, if we examine, we 
 shall find that their benevolence has a great mixture of 
 selfishness in it, for it is exercised only towards those 
 from whom they expect -an ample return. It is the 
 kindness of barter, not of charity : it is so much of 
 their comfort put out at interest, not given away to the 
 needy ; they either have had, or expect to have, value 
 received for all they do. But love is universal in its as- 
 pect ; it is ever ready to do a kind office for any one that 
 cither solicits or needs its assistance. Its language is, 
 " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters." 
 It has a kind look, word, and act, for everybody. Nor 
 are its enemies denied the assistance of its efforts. 
 Such is the generous spirit of the Christian religion, as 
 appears from the passages quoted in a preceding chap- 
 ter. Such is the refined, the sublime morality of the 
 New Testament. Yes, these are the principles on 
 which kindness acts : it extends its beneficence to the 
 very man that has treated it with contumely and scorn 
 with cruelty, insult, and oppression. This is its duty 
 and its inclination. In imitation of the dying Saviour, 
 who gave his last prayer to his murderers, it says, 
 " Father, forgive them, for they know not what they 
 do!" 
 
 What a fascinating character is the man of distin- 
 guished kindness! he is invested with indescribable
 
 79 
 
 loveliness : he may not have the glory in which the 
 patriot, the hero, or the martyr is enshrined ; but he is 
 adorned in no common degree with the beauties of 
 holiness. He carries about with him the majesty of 
 goodness, if not the dominion of greatness. The light 
 of his countenance is the warm sunshine, to which the 
 spirits of grief repair from their dark retreats, to bask 
 in its glow ; and his gentle words are like soft melody 
 to chase away the evil thoughts from the bosom of 
 melancholy, and to hush to peace the troubled reflec- 
 tions of the distempered mind. As he moves along his 
 career, distributing the unexpensive but efficient expres- 
 sions of his regards, it is amidst the blessing of those 
 that are ready to perish, and the notes of the widow's 
 heart, which he has turned to joy. When he comes 
 unexpectedly into the company of his friends, every 
 countenance puts on the appearance of complacency, 
 and it appears as if a good genius had come among 
 them to bless the party ; as he looks round on the cir- 
 cle, with a smile of beneficence that has found an 
 abiding place upon his brow, he presents the brightest 
 resemblance to be found in our selfish world, of the 
 entrance of the Saviour among his disciples, when he 
 said, " Peace be unto you !" and breathed upon them 
 the Holy Ghost. Although he neither seeks nor 
 wishes an equivalent, in return for his many acts of 
 benevolence, his gentle spirit receives back, in a full 
 tide, the streams of consolation which had ebbed from 
 his own heart to fill the empty channels of his neigh- 
 bour's happiness. Who can be unkind to him, who is 
 kind to all 1 What heart is so hard, what mind is so 
 cruel, what spirit is so diabolical, as to wound him, who 
 never appears among his race but as a ministering 
 angel 1 There is a magic in his tears, to melt to sym- 
 pathy the stubborn soul of cruelty itself, which has a 
 tear for no one else ; and no less a magic in his smiles, 
 so far to relax and soften the hard features of envy, 
 as to reflect for a moment the sunshine of his joy. 
 While he lives, every man is his admirer ; and when he
 
 80 
 
 dies, every man is his mourner : while he is on earth, 
 his name has a home in every heart ; and when he is 
 gone, he has a monument in every memory : and this 
 is the description of his character the record of his 
 praise : LOVE is KIND !
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE CONTENTMENT OF LOVE. 
 
 " Charity envieth not." 
 
 ENVY is that passion, which causes us to feel un- 
 easiness at the sight of another's possessions or hap- 
 piness, and which makes i dislike him on that account. 
 1 Of all the base passions, this is the basest. It is 
 I unmingled malignity, the very worst and bitterest dregs 
 i of human depravity ; the most direct contrariety of 
 love. Envy is either general or special in its objects. 
 It often exists in the mind to such an extent, that its 
 subjects seem almost instinctively opposed to excellence 
 and to happiness, wherever they see them, or when- 
 ever they hear of them. They may not regard the in- 
 dividuals on whom their envious glance is fixed in the 
 light of competitors or rivals ; they may have nothing to 
 hope from their depression nothing to fear from their 
 elevation ; but it is enough to awaken their uneasiness 
 and dislike, to know that they are in some respects su- 
 perior. They cannot bear to see excellence or happi- 
 ness in any one, or ever to hear the language of com- 
 mendation or praise. They would beggar the universe 
 to enrich themselves, and monopolize all possessions, 
 and all admiration ; they would be alone in the world, 
 as the sole occupants of every thing valuable, and can 
 endure neither a superior nor an equal. This, it must
 
 82 
 
 be allowed, is a maturity to which envy rarely attains, 
 
 compared with its more special and limited operation. 
 
 The OBJECTS of envy are commonly such as these. 
 
 1 . Persons who are nearly on our own level. Individ- 
 uals who are either much above us in station, or much 
 below us, are not so likely to excite uneasiness and 
 dislike, as those who are of our own standing, or 
 approaching to it. The tradesman envies not the 
 nobleman, but some fellow tradesman ; the laurels and 
 fame of the hero are not envied by the common soldier, 
 but by some officer of his own rank. 
 
 2. Those who though much above us, occupy a 
 station from which ice have been cast down, are likely to 
 be regarded by us with an evil eye, and to draw forth 
 our dislike. 
 
 3. Competitors, but especially some single rival for 
 wealth, or fame, or any valuable possession, is a pow- 
 erful temptation to this sin. It is extremely difficult to 
 witness their success and superiority, and feel nothing 
 of envy towards them. 
 
 It is evident, that persons descending in life are much 
 exposed to this vice : and, perhaps, those still more so, 
 who are candidates for popular applause, whether they be 
 literary, scientific, military, or professional men. "Vani- 
 ty, or a thirst after applause, is the most unsocial and 
 envious of the passions, avarice itself not excepted. 
 The reason is plain. Property is a kind of good, which 
 may be more easily attained, and is capable of more 
 minute subdivision, than fame. In the pursuit of wealth, 
 men are led, by an attention to their own interest, to 
 promote the welfare of each other : their advantages 
 are reciprocal ; the benefits which each is anxious to 
 acquire for himself, he reaps in the greatest abundance 
 from the union of society. The pursuits of vanity are 
 quite contrary. The portion of time and attention 
 mankind are willing to spare from their avocations 
 and pleasures, to devote to the admiration of each other, 
 is so small, that every successful adventurer is felt to 
 have imparcd the common stock. The success of one, 
 IB the disappointment of multitudes : for though there
 
 83 
 
 be many rich, many virtuous, many wise men, fame 
 must necessarily be the portion of but few. Hence 
 every vain man regarding his competitor as his rival, 
 is strongly tempted to rejoice in his miscarriage, and to 
 repine at his success. 
 
 There is not any kind of superiority, however low 
 in its nature, or obscure in situation, which is not 
 found to be sufficient to call forth the ill will and hatred 
 of some inferior or disappointed spectator. Children 
 and rustics, as well as philosophers, warriors, and 
 princes, are subject to its influence. Like the venom- 
 ous spider, it weaves its web, and directs its deadly 
 glance, in the cottages of poverty, the mansions of 
 affluence, and the halls of science. It is the epidemic 
 of the human race, the most common operation of 
 human depravity. The Apostle seems to give it as a 
 general description of human nature, while unrenewed 
 by divine grace. " Living in malice and envy, hateful, 
 and hating one another." The whole Gentile world, 
 before the coming of Christ, is described as having 
 been "full of envy." "Envyings" bear a high place 
 among the works of the flesh; and on the converts 
 from Paganism, the churches of believers, there was 
 no one evil of which the prohibition was more frequent- 
 ly, or more earnestly enjoined, than this : and the 
 apostle James tells us, that it is still partially inherent 
 in every man " the spirit that dwelleth in us lusteth 
 to envy." 
 
 But let us now contemplate its HATEFUL NATURE. 
 It is a vice of the utmost deformity and heinousness. 
 To feel uneasiness at another's happiness, or excellence, 
 and to dislike him on that account, is a sin that needs 
 no analysis to prove its deadly nature no dissection to 
 expose its corruption ; it presents at once, to the most 
 superficial observer, a frightful and disgusting appear- 
 ance a kind of leprous surface. It stands directly 
 opposed to the nature of God, whose love delights in 
 excellence and in happiness, and whose grace produ- 
 ces both ; and by whom this sin must be regarded with 
 infinite loathing and abhorrence.
 
 84 
 
 It is a secret murmuring against the appointments 
 of heaven an incessant quarrel with Providence an 
 accusation preferred against the wisdom, equity, and 
 goodness of the divine administration. As it is unlike 
 God, so it is the image of Satan, being the disposition, 
 united with pride^ which cast down the apostate angels 
 from their seats in heaven, and which fills and fires their 
 bosoms in the bottomless pit ; it is perfectly the state 
 of hell, and unceasingly the passion of devils, who 
 despair for themselves, and envy the happiness of men 
 and angels, yet cannot rejoice either -in the good or the 
 evil they witness, although they endeavour to hinder 
 the good, and promote the evil, with all the restlessness 
 of malice, and the devices of a mighty understanding. 
 It is a parent crime, and its progeny are as mischievous 
 and as deformed as itself: for malice, hatred, falsehood, 
 slander, are its ordinary brood ; and not unfrequently 
 murder : for when carried to excess, there is scarcely 
 an injury within its reach which it would not inflict 
 upon its object. It cannot even offer the excuses for^ 
 itself which many vices sometimes bring forward : 
 anger pleads the provocation it has received ; but envy 
 has received no offence, except the well-being of ano- 
 ther be an insult : lust and intemperance plead the gra- 1 
 tification which their objects yield, and robbery holds up j 
 its gain ; but envy gains nothing but misery, and con- ] 
 verts the happiness, of which it is the witness, into i 
 wormwood and gall for its own cup, and transvenoms I 
 the honey of another man's comfort into the poison of 
 asps for its own bosom : it is a source of eternal vexa- j 
 tion an instrument of self-torment a rottenness in 
 the bones a burning ulceration of the soul a crime, ; 
 which, partaking of the guilt, partakes as largely of 
 'the misery of hell. 
 
 Such is envy ; but who can describe it accurately, 
 or do h justice? If we look for it as embodied in liv- 
 ing characters, we shall find it in Cain, the proto-mur- 
 derer, who slew his brother at the instigation of this 
 vice. We shall find it in the dark, and gloomy, and 
 revengeful spirit of Saul, who, under the influence of
 
 85 
 
 envy, plotted for years the slaughter of David. We 
 shall find it in the king of Israel, when he pined for the 
 vineyard of Naboth, and shed his blood to gain it. Yea, 
 it was envy that perpetrated that most atrocious crime, 
 ever planned in hell or executed on earth, on which the 
 sun refused to look, and at which nature gave signs of 
 abhorrence by the rending of the rocks ; I mean the 
 crucifixion of Christ : for the evangelist tells us, that 
 for envy, the Jews delivered our Lord. 
 
 Bishop Hall has given us a very striking portraiture 
 of the envious man, which I shall here , introduce : 
 " He feeds on other's evils ; and hath no disease but his 
 neighbour's welfare : whatsoever God does for him, he 
 cannot be happy with company ; and if he were put 
 to choose whether he would rather have equals in a 
 common felicity, or superiors in misery, he would demur 
 upon the election. His eye casts out too much, and 
 never returns home, but to make comparisons with 
 another's good. He is an ill prizer of foreign com- 
 modity worse of his own ; for that he rates too high 
 this undervalues. You shall have him ever inquiring 
 into the estates of his equals and betters, wherein he is 
 not more desirous to hear all, than loth to hear any 
 thing over-good ; and if just report relate aught better 
 than he would, he redoubles the question, as being hard 
 to believe what he likes not; and hopes yet, if that 
 be averred again to his grief, that there is somewhat 
 concealed in the relation, which, if it were known, 
 would argue the commended party miserable, and 
 blemish him with secret shame. He is ready to quar- 
 rel with God, because the next field is fairer grown ; 
 and angrily calculates his cost, and time, and tillage. 
 Whom he dares not openly backbite, nor wound with a 
 direct censure, he strikes smoothly with an over-cold 
 praise : and when he sees that he must either mali- 
 ciously oppugn the just praise of another (which were 
 unsafe,) or approve it by assent, he yieldeth ; but 
 shows, withal, that his means were such, both by na- 
 ture and education, that he could not, without much 
 neglect, be less commendable : so his happiness shall 
 
 9
 
 86 
 
 be made the colour of detraction. When a wholesome 
 law is propounded, he crosseth it either by open or 
 close opposition not for any incommodity or inexpe- 
 dience, but because it proceedeth from any mouth but 
 his own ; and it must be a case rarely plausible that 
 will not admit some probable contradiction. When his 
 equal should rise to honour, he striveth against it un- 
 seen, and rather with much cost suborneth great ad- 
 versaries ; and when he sees his resistance vain, he can 
 give a hollow gratulation in pretence ; but in secret 
 disparageth that advancement: either the man is unfit 
 for the place, or the place for the man ; or, if fit, yet 
 less gainful, or more common than opinion : whereto 
 he adds, that himself might have had the same dignity 
 upon better terms, and refused it. He is witty in de- 
 vising suggestions to bring his rival out of love into 
 suspicion ; if he be courteous, he is seditiously popu- 
 lar ; if bountiful, he binds over his clients to faction ; 
 if successful in war, he is dangerous in peace ; if 
 wealthy, he lays up for a day ; if powerful, nothing 
 wants but opportunity for rebellion ; his submission, is 
 ambitious hyprocrisy ; his religion, politic insinuation ; 
 no action is safe from an envious construction. When 
 he receives a good report of him whom he emulates, 
 he saith, Fame is partial, and covers mischiefs ; and 
 pleaseth himself with hope to find it false : and if ill 
 will hath dispersed a more spiteful narration, he lays 
 hold on that against all witnesses, and broacheth that 
 rumour for truth, because worst ; and when he sees 
 him perfectly miserable, he can at once pity him and 
 rejoice. What himself cannot do, others shall not : 
 he hath gained well, if he have hindered the success 
 of what he would have done and could not. He con- 
 ceals his best skill, not so as it may not be known that 
 he knows it, but so as it may not be learned, because 
 he would have the world miss him. He attained to a 
 sovereign medicine by the secret legacy of a dying 
 empiric, whereof he will leave no heir, lest the praise 
 should be divided. Finally, he is an enemy to God's 
 favours, if they fall beside himself ; the best nurse of
 
 87 
 
 ill fame ; a man of the worst diet, for he consumes 
 himself, and delights in pining ; a thornhedge covered 
 with nettles ; a peevish interpreter of good things ; and 
 no other than a lean and pale carcass quickened with 
 a fiend." 
 
 How hateful, then, is this crime ; and although we 
 may not be in danger of carrying it to the excess here 
 stated, yet we should ever strive against its least and 
 lowest degrees. The means of opposing and mortify- 
 ing it are many. 
 
 Let us very seriously meditate on its evil nature. A 
 steady contemplation of its deformity and demon-like 
 countenance, is calculated to excite disgust, and to 
 produce abhorrence. Many evils, and this among the 
 number, are too much indulged, because they are too 
 little contemplated. The more we meditate upon the 
 heinousness of envy, the more we shall be convinced 
 of the utter unsuitableness of such a temper as thiS 
 to be the inmate of a Christian's bosom : it is like a 
 fiend inhabiting the temple of the Lord. We must 
 next form a deliberate resolution for its mortification: we 
 must stand prepared to take the greatest pains, to main- 
 tain the most determined efforts, for the riddance of 
 our hearts from so hateful a disposition. Let us next 
 consider, that the circumstances which excite our envy 
 are among the arrangements of a wise Providence ; and 
 that to dislike another on account of his excellence, or 
 happiness, is a crime of no less magnitude than a wish 
 to oppose and subvert the dispensations of heaven. Let 
 us remember, that if others have more than ourselves, 
 we have infinitely more than we deserve ; a deliberate 
 and frequent consideration of our numerous and aggra- 
 vated sins, with our deliverance from their consequen- 
 ces, together with a survey of our mercies, and hopes, 
 as Christians, would very powerfully help us in the 
 great business of mortifying envy ; for the chief dif- 
 ference between man and man, as to real happiness, 
 lies in spiritual distinctions ; and if we have these, the 
 absence of any thing else is matter of little consequence. 
 It may not be amiss also to consider, how comparatively
 
 88 
 
 small is the amount of happiness derived by the object 
 of our envy, from those possessions on the ground of 
 which we dislike him : and how soon, could we trans- 
 fer them to ourselves, they would cease to impart any 
 strong; gratification to us. We always act under a 
 delusion, when we indulge this hateful passion : its 
 objects are seen through a magnifying medium of 
 very high power. The circumstances which excite 
 our envy, have their attendant evils ; evils which, 
 though concealed from general observation, are well 
 known to the possessor of them. We should labour 
 to be content with such things as we have : content- 
 ment is the secret of happiness, whether we have much 
 or little. The man who makes up his mind to enjoy 
 what he has, is quite as happy as he who possesses 
 twice as much. 
 
 But still the great thing is, to endeavour, by God's 
 gracious help, to increase in LOVE. Our envy will then 
 as certainly diminish, as darkness retires before the 
 entrance of light, or cold before the power of heat. 
 Love and envy are the very antipodes of each other : 
 the former delights in the happiness of others, the latter 
 is made miserable by it. Let us endeavour to cultivate 
 this disposition, and to delight in witnessing and diffus- 
 ing blessedness. This is what the Apostle meant, when 
 he said, "Rejoice with those that do rejoice." What 
 a beatifying, and even sublime, temper is that, which 
 leads its possessor to find consolation, amidst its own 
 straits, privations, and difficulties, in contemplating the 
 possessions and the comforts of those around him ! 
 What relief would such elevated virtue bring to the 
 mourner, when he could turn his own darkened orb 
 toward the illumination of his neighbour's prosperity ! 
 Happy the man who can thus borrow the joys of others 
 when he has none, or few, of his own ; and, from the 
 wilderness of his own situation, enjoy the beautiful 
 prospect of his friends' domain. Difficult and rare as 
 such a temper is, it is that which is the subject of the 
 Apostle's description, in the chapter we are consider- 
 ing, and which it is the duty of every Christian to
 
 89 
 
 cultivate. Hard, indeed, is the saying, and few there 
 are who can bear it, but it is assuredly the lesson which 
 Christ teaches his disciples, and which those disciples 
 must all endeavour to learn. Much may be done by 
 effort. Let us determine, by God's help, to acquire it ; 
 let us make the attempt, and let us only persevere, 
 notwithstanding many defeats and many discourage- 
 ments, and it is astonishing what may be done. But 
 this goeth not forth but by fasting and prayer. Love 
 cannot be cultivated, nor envy destroyed, in our hearts, 
 but by the power of the Holy Spirit. We may as well 
 try to pull up by the roots the oak of a century's 
 growth, or overturn a mountain by our own strength, 
 as to eradicate the vice of envy from our hearts, with- 
 out the aid of God's own Spirit : that aid is promised 
 to fervent and persevering prayer, and if we have it 
 not, the fault is our own.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE HUMILITY OF LOVE. 
 
 " Charity is not puffed up vaunteth not itself." 
 
 THE Apostle's meaning, in this part of his descrip- 
 tion, evidently is, that love has not a high and over- 
 weening conceit of its own possessions and acquire- 
 ments, and does not ostentatiously boast of what it is, 
 has done, can do, or intends to do. It is opposed to 
 pride and vanity, and is connected with true humility. 
 
 Pride signifies such an exalted idea of ourselves, as 
 leads to self-esteem, and to contempt of others. It is 
 self-admiration self-doating. It differs from vanity 
 thus : pride causes us to value ourselves ; vanity 
 makes us anxious for applause. Pride renders a man 
 odious ; vanity makes him ridiculous. Love is equally 
 opposed to both. 
 
 Pride is the sin which laid the moral universe in ruins. 
 It was this that impelled Satan and his confederates to 
 a mad " defiance of the Omnipotent to arms," for 
 which they were driven from heaven, and taught, by 
 their better experience, that "God resisteth the proud." 
 Banished from the world of celestials, pride alighted on 
 our globe, in its way to hell, and brought destruction 
 in its train. Propagated from our common and fallen 
 parent with our species, it is the original sin the in-
 
 91 
 
 herent corruption of our nature. It spreads over hu- 
 manity, with the contagious violence, the loathsome 
 appearance of a moral leprosy, raging alike through 
 the palace and the cottage, and infecting equally the 
 prince and the peasant. 
 
 The grounds of pride are various: whatever con- 
 stitutes a distinction between man and man, is the 
 occasion of this hateful disposition. It is a vice that 
 does not dwell exclusively in kings' houses, wear only 
 soft raiment, and feed every day upon titles, fame, or 
 affluence ; it accommodates itself to our circumstances, 
 and adapts itself to our distinctions, of whatever kind 
 they be. The usual grounds of pride are the follow- 
 ing : 
 
 Wealth. Some value themselves on account of their 
 fortune, look down with contempt on those below 
 them, and exact obsequiousness towards themselves, 
 and deference for their opinions, according to the 
 thousands of money or of acres which they possess. 
 Others are proud of their talents, either natural or 
 acquired. The brilliancy of their genius, the extent 
 of their learning, the splendour of their imagination, 
 the acuteness of their understanding, their power to 
 argue, or declaim, form the object of self-esteem, and 
 the reasons of that disdain which they pour upon all 
 who are inferior to them in mental endowments. But 
 these things are not so common in the Church of God, 
 as those which we now mention. 
 
 Ecclesiastical connexions form, in many cases, the 
 occasion of pride. This was exemplified in the Jews, 
 who boasted that they were the children of Abraham, 
 and worshipped in the temple of the Lord. Their 
 self-admiration, as the members of the only true 
 church, and as the covenant people of God, was insuf- 
 ferably disgusting. In this feature of their character, 
 they are too often imitated in modern times. What- 
 ever leads us to think highly of ourselves in matters of 
 religion, and to despise others, whether it be the dis- 
 tinctions of earthly greatness, the practice of religions
 
 92 
 
 duties, or the independence of our mode of thinking, is 
 opposed to the spirit of Christian charity. 
 
 Superior light on the subject of revealed truth, is no 
 unusual occasion of pride. The Arminian Pharisee 
 dwells with fondness on the goodness of his heart ; the 
 Antinomian, with equal haughtiness, values himself on 
 the clearness of his head ; and the Socinian, as far 
 from humility as either of them, is inflated with a con- 
 ceit of the strength of his reason, and its elevation 
 above vulgar prejudices ; while not a few moderate 
 Calvinists regard with complacency their sagacity in dis- 
 covering the happy medium. As men are more proud of 
 their understanding than of their disposition, it is very 
 probable that religious opinions are more frequently 
 the cause of conceit and self-importance, than anything 
 else which could be mentioned. " It is knowledge," 
 says the Apostle, " that puffeth up." We are the men, 
 and wisdom will die with us, is the temper of mul- 
 titudes. 
 
 Religious gifts are sometimes the ground of self- 
 admiration. Fluency and fervour in extempore prayer, 
 ability to converse on doctrinal subjects, especially if 
 accompanied by a ready utterance in public, have all, 
 through the influence of Satan and the depravity of 
 our nature, led to the disposition we are now con- 
 demning. None are in more danger of this than the 
 ministers of religion ; it is the besetting sin. ojf their 
 office. There is no one gift which offers so strong a 
 temptation both to vanity and to pride, as that of pub- 
 lic speaking. If the orator really excel and is success- 
 ful, he is the immediate spectator of his success, and 
 has not even to wait till he has finished his discourse ; 
 for although the decorum of public worship will not 
 allow of audible tokens of applause, it does of visible 
 ones ; the look of interest, the tear of penitence or 
 of sympathy, the smile of joy, the deep impression on 
 the mind, the death-like stillness, cannot be concealed ; 
 all seems like a tribute of admiration to the presiding 
 spirit of the scene ; and then the applause which is
 
 conveyed to his ear, after all the silent plaudits which 
 have reached his eye, is equally calculated to puff him 
 up with pride. No men are more in danger of this sin 
 than the ministers of the Gospel : none should watch 
 more sleeplessly against it. 
 
 Deep religious ^experience has often been followed by 
 Ithe same effect, in those cases where it has been 
 remarkably enjoyed. The methods of divine grace, 
 though marked by a uniformity sufficient to preserve 
 that likeness of character, which is essential to the 
 unity of the spirit and the sjTnpathies of the church, 
 are still distinguished by a vast variety of minor pe- 
 culiarities. The convictions of sin in some minds are 
 deeper, the apprehensions of Divine wrath are more 
 appalling, the transition from the poignant compunction 
 of repentance bordering on despair, to joy and peace 
 in believing, more slow and more awful, the subsequent 
 repose more settled, and the joy more unmingled with 
 the gloom of distressing fears, than is experienced 
 jby the generality of their brethren. Such persons are 
 i looked up to as professors of religion, whose religious 
 history has been remarkable, as vessels of mercy on 
 which the hand of the Lord has bestowed peculiar 
 pains, and which are eminently fitted for the master's 
 iUse. They are regarded as having a peculiar sanctity 
 iabout them ; and hence they are in danger of falling 
 under the temptation to which they are exposed, and 
 of being proud of their experience. They look down 
 from what they suppose to be their lofty elevation, if 
 not with disdain yet with suspicion, or with pity upon 
 those whose way has not been in their track. Their 
 seasons of elevated communion with God, of holy 
 enlargement of soul, are sometimes followed with this 
 tendency. Paul was never more in danger of losing 
 ihis humility, than when he was just returned from 
 gazing upon the celestial throne. 
 
 Zeal, whether it be felt in the cause of humanity or 
 of piety, has frequently produced pride. This was 
 strikingly illustrated in the case of the Pharisee : " God, 
 I thank thee," said this inflated devotee, "that I am
 
 94 
 
 not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, 
 or even as this publican : I fast twice in the week I 
 give tithes of all that I possess !" Where a natural 
 liberality of mind, or religious principle, has led men 
 to lavish their property, or their influence, or their time, 
 upon benevolent institutions, they have too often return- 
 ed from the scene of public activity, to indulge hi 
 private and personal admiration. They have read 
 with peculiar delight the reports in which their munifi- 
 cence is recorded and have assigned to themselves a 
 high place in the roll of public benefactors. 
 
 On all these grounds does pride exalt itself; but 
 love is no less opposed to vanity than it is to pride 
 "it vaunteth not itself." It does not boast of, or 
 ostentatiously display, its possessions, acquirements, or 
 operations. A disposition to boast, and to attract 
 attention, is a common foible. We see this among the 
 people of the world, in reference to their property, 
 their learning, their connexions, their influence. They 
 are afraid the public should underrate them ; forgetting 
 that they pay a poor compliment to their importance, 
 when they thus think it necessary to proclaim it in 
 order to its being known. If indeed, they are what 
 they wish to make us believe they are, the fact would 
 be obvious without this method of publishing it in 
 every company. Puffing is always suspicious, or 
 superfluous ; for real greatness no more needs a crier 
 than the sun. 
 
 But it is more particularly in reference to religious 
 matters that this observation of the Apostle applies. 
 We should not appear eager to display our gifts, nor 
 should we vaunt of our religious experience. The 
 manner in which some good but weak people talk of 
 their pious conflicts, is indeed intolerably offensive. 
 No matter who is present, pious or profane, scorner 
 or believer, they parade all their seasons of despon- 
 dency or of rapture ; they tell you how they struggled 
 with the great enemy of souls, and overcome him ; 
 how they wrestled with God, and had power to prevail ; 
 and that you may have as exalted an opinion of their
 
 humility, as of their enjoyment, they tell you in the 
 utter violation of all propriety, and almost of decency, 
 what temptations they have encountered what hair- 
 breadth escapes they have had from the commission of 
 sin. Their motive is obvious ; all this vaunting is to 
 impress you with the idea that they are no ordinary 
 Christians. Who can wonder that all religious conver- 
 sation should have been branded with the epithets of 
 whining cant and disgusting hypocrisy, when the in- 
 judicious and nauseating effusions of such talkers are 
 regarded as a fair sample of it ? 
 
 Too common is it to make the externals of religion 
 the subject of vain-glorious boasting. How long can 
 you be in the company of some Christians without 
 hearing of their splendid place of worship, and its vast 
 superiority* over all the rest in the town 1 They 
 establish the most insulting and degrading comparisons 
 between their minister and his brethren in the 
 neighbourhood : none so eloquent, none so able, none 
 so successful, as he. Notwithstanding your attach- 
 ment to the pastor under whose ministry you sit with 
 pleasure and profit, you are condemned to hear him dis- 
 honoured and degraded by one of these gasconading 
 professors, who is as destitute of good manners as he 
 is of good feeling. 
 
 And what a propensity is there in the present age, 
 to display, and parade, and boasting, in reference to 
 religious zeal ! This is one of the temptations of the 
 day in which we live, and a compliance with the temp- 
 tation one of its vices. We have at length arrived at 
 an era of the Christian church, when all the denomina- 
 tions into which it is divided, and all the congregations 
 into which it is sub-divided, have their public religious 
 institutions for the diffusion of divine truth. These 
 institutions cannot be supported without property; and 
 the property that is contributed for their support, must 
 be matter of general notoriety. Like the tributary 
 streams flowing into a great river, or like great rivers 
 flowing into the sea, the contributions of associated 
 congregations or communities, make up the general
 
 96 
 
 fund: but, unlike the tributary streams which flow 
 silently to form the mighty mass of waters, without 
 requiring the ocean to publish to the universe the 
 amount of each separate quota, the offerings of the 
 different religious bodies, must be announced, to the 
 uttermost farthing, before the world. This perhaps, 
 is necessary, that the contributors may know that their 
 bounty has not been stopped and swallowed up in its 
 course, but has reached its destined receptacle : and 
 such is the weakness of our principles, and the strength 
 of our imperfections, that this publicity to a certain 
 extent, seems necessary to stimulate our languid zeal. 
 But it has given opportunity, and that opportunity has 
 been eagerly embraced, to establish a system of un-. 
 hallowed vanity between the different denominations 
 and the various congregations into whidi the Chris- 
 tian church is divided. Who can have heard the 
 speeches, read the reports, and witnessed the proceedings 
 of many of our public meetings, convened for the 
 support of missionary societies, without being grieved 
 at the strange fire, and diseased offerings, which have 
 been brought to the altar of the Lord ? The object 
 of the meeting was good, for it was the destruction of 
 an idolatry as insulting to Jehovah as that which Jehu 
 destroyed ; but like the king of Israel, hundreds of 
 voices exclaimed in concert, " Come, see our zeal for 
 the Lord !" The image of jealousy was lifted up in 
 the temple of Jehovah ; adulatory speakers chaunted 
 its praises, in compliments upon the liberality of the 
 worshippers ; the multitude responded in shouts of 
 applause to the tribute paid to their zeal ; the praise 
 of God was drowned amidst the praise of men ; and 
 the crowd dispersed, in love with the cause, it is true, 
 but more for their own sakes, than for the sake of 
 God, or of the heathen world. 
 
 Difficult indeed it is, with such hearts as ours, to do 
 any thing entirely pure from all admixture of a sinful 
 nature ; but when we take pains to make our zeal 
 known ; when we employ effort to draw public atten- 
 tion upon us ; when we wish and design to make our-
 
 97 
 
 selves talked of as a most extraordinary, liberal, and 
 active people ; when we listen for praises, and are dis- 
 appointed if they do not come in the measure we ex- 
 pected, and feast upon them if they are presented ; 
 when we look with envy on those who have outstripped 
 us, and find no pleasure in any future efforts, because 
 we cannot be first ; when we look with jealousy on 
 those who are approaching our level, and feel a new 
 stimulus, not from a fresh perception of the excellence 
 of the object, but from a fear that we shall be eclipsed 
 in public estimation ; when we talk of our fellow work- 
 ers, or to them, with disdain of their efforts, and with 
 arrogant ostentation of our own ; then, indeed, have 
 we employed the cause only as a pedestal on which to 
 exalt ourselves ; in pulling down one kind of idolatry, 
 we have set up another, and rendered our contributions 
 nothing better than a costly sacrifice to our own vani- 
 ty. All this is a want of that Christian love which 
 " vaunteth not itself, and is not puffed up." 
 
 True zeal is modest and retiring; it is not like the 
 scentless sunflower, which spreads its gaudy petals to 
 the light of heaven, and turns its face to the orb of 
 day through his course, as if determined to be seen ; 
 but like the modest violet, it hides itself in the bank, 
 and sends forth its fragrance from its deep retirement. 
 It employs no trumpeter, it unfurls no banner, like the 
 hypocrite ; but while conferring the most substantial 
 benefits, it would, if it were possible, be like the angels 
 who, while ministering to the heirs of salvation, are un- 
 seen, and unkown, by the objects of their benevolent 
 attention. 
 
 Observe the manner in which love operates to the 
 destruction of this evil. Love, as we have already had 
 frequent occasion to remark, is a desire to promote the 
 happiness of those around us ; but proud and vain per- 
 sons tend materially to impair this happiness. They 
 generally excite disgust, frequently offer insult, and 
 sometimes inflict pain. Their object is to impress you 
 with a degrading sense of inferiority, and thus to wound 
 and mortify your feelings. Caring little for your peace, 
 
 10
 
 98 
 
 they pursue a career of contumely and scorn, dreaded 
 by the weak and despised by the wise. It is impossi- 
 ble to be happy hi their society ; for if you oppose them, 
 you are insulted if you submit to them, you are de- 
 graded. 
 
 Love is essentially and unalterably attended with HU- 
 MILITY ; humility is the garment with which it is cloth- 
 ed, its inseparable and invariable costume. By hu- 
 mility, we do not intend the servility which crouches, 
 or the meanness that creeps, or the sycophancy which 
 fawns ; but a disposition to think lowly of our attain- 
 ments, a tendency to dwell upon our defects, rather 
 than our excellences, an apprehension of our inferiori- 
 ty compared with those around us, with what we ought 
 to be, and what we might be. It is always attended 
 with that modest deportment, which neither boasts of 
 itself, nor seeks to depreciate any one : humility is the 
 inward feeling of lowliness modesty is the outward 
 expression of it ; humility leads a man to feel that he 
 deserves little modesty leads him to demand little. 
 
 " The ancient sages, amidst all their panegyrics upon 
 virtue, and inquires into the elements of moral excel- 
 lence, not only valued humility at an exceedingly low 
 estimate, but reckoned it a quality so contemptible, as 
 to neutralize the other properties which went, in their 
 estimation, to the composition of a truly noble and ex- 
 alted character. These sentiments have been adopted, 
 in modern times, by the great majority both of the vul- 
 gar and of the philosophers, differing from their prede- 
 cessors chiefly in this circumstance, the more com- 
 plete absence of that humility and modesty which 
 would have adorned them, and in their determined and _ 
 obstinate rejection of that true standard of character, 
 after which the ancients so eagerly sought. Ky the . 
 touchstone which Christianity applies to the human 
 character, it is found that pride and independence, 
 which the world falsely dignifies with the epithet Jwno- 
 rable, are really base alloy ; and that of every charac- 
 ter formed upon proper principles, and possessed of 
 genuine worth, humility is at once a distinguishing fea-
 
 99 
 
 ture and the richest ornament. And on this subject, as 
 on every other, Christianity accords with the sentiments 
 of right reason that it is unquestionably the duty of eve- 
 ry intelligent (especially every imperfect) creature to 
 be humble ; for they have nothing which they have not 
 received, and are indebted, in every movement they 
 make, to an agency infinitely superior to their own." 
 
 Now, as divine revelation is the only system which, 
 either in ancient or in modern times, assigns to humility 
 the rank of a virtue, or makes provision for its cultiva- 
 tion, this in an eminent degree does both. It assigns 
 to it the highest place, and a sort of preeminence 
 among the graces of piety ; bestows upon it the greatest 
 commendations, enforces it by the most powerful mo- 
 tives, encourages it by the richest promises, draws it in 
 to exercise by .the most splendid examples, and repre 
 sents it as the brightest jewel in the Christian's crown 
 Every thing in the word of God is calculated to hum- 
 ble us ; the description which it contains of the divine 
 character, combining an infinitude of greatness, good- 
 ness, and glory, compared with which the loftiest being 
 is an insignificant atom, and the purest heart as depravity 
 itself; the view it gives us of innumerable orders of 
 created intelligences, all above man, in the date of their 
 existence, the capacity of their minds, and the elevation 
 of their virtue ; the account it preserves of the intel- 
 lectual and moral perfection of man in his pristine inno- 
 cence, and the discovery which it thus furnishes of the 
 height from which'he has fallen, and the contrast it thus 
 draws between his present and his former nature ; the 
 declaration it makes of the purity of the eternal law, 
 and the immeasurable depth at which we are thus seen 
 to lie beneath our obligations ; the history it exhibits 
 of the circumstances of man's fall, of the progress of 
 his sin, and of the numberless and awful obliquities of 
 his corruptions ; the characteristics it affixes to his situ- 
 ation as a sinner, a rebel, an enemy of God, a child of 
 wrath, an heir of perdition ; the method it presents, by 
 which he is redeemed from sin and hell, a scheme 
 which he neither invented, nor thought of, nor aided,
 
 100 
 
 but which is a plan of grace, from first to last, even the 
 grace of God, manifested in and through the propitiation 
 of Christ a plan, which, in all its parts, and in all its 
 bearings, seems expressly devised to exclude boasting ; 
 the means by which it asserts that the renovation and 
 sanctification of the human heart are carried on, and 
 its security to eternal life established even by the effec- 
 tual operation of a divine agency ; the sovereignty 
 which it proclaims, as regulating the dispensation of ce- 
 lestial mercy ; the examples which it holds forth of the 
 astonishing lowliness and self-abasement of others, so 
 far superior to man in their mental and moral natures, 
 such as the profound abasement of the angelic race, 
 but especially the unparalleled humiliation of him, who, 
 though he was in the form of God, was found in the 
 form of a servant ; these considerations, which are all 
 drawn from the scriptures, supply incentives to humili- 
 ty, which demonstrate, upon Christian principles, that 
 pride is the most unreasonable, as well as the most un- 
 righteous, thing in the universe. Pride is opposed, and 
 humility is supported, by every possible view that we 
 can take of divine revelation. An acquintance with 
 these great principles of inspired truth, at least an ex- 
 perimental knowledge of them, will bring down the 
 loftiness of men's looks, and silence the tongue of arro- 
 gant boasting. Surely, surely, he that is conversant 
 with these things, will see little cause for self-valuation, 
 as Mr. Hume calls pride, or for that self-publication, 
 which is the essence of vanity. 
 
 While every true-hearted Christian is thankful that 
 the Son of God stooped so low for his salvation, he 
 will rejoice that his state of humiliation is past. " If 
 ye loved me, ye would rejoice, because I said, I go un- 
 to the Father." The eclipse is over, the sun has re- 
 sumed his original brightness, and the heavenly world 
 is illuminated with his rays. That man, in whom was 
 no form nor comeliness for which he should be desired, 
 sits upon the throne of the universe, wearing a crown 
 of immortal glory, and is adored by angels and by men. 
 HU humility has conducted to honour ; his sorrow baa
 
 101 
 
 terminated in unspeakable joy. " His glory is great in 
 thy salvation ; honour and majesty hast thou laid upon 
 him ; for thou hast made him most blessed for ever : 
 thou has made him exceeding glad with thy counte- 
 nance." Similar shall be the result in the case of those 
 who follow his steps, and tread the lowly path in which 
 he has commanded them to walk. The crown of glory 
 is reserved for the humble, but shame shall be the re- 
 ward of the proud. " Blessed are the poor in spirit, 
 for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 There is no operation of Christian love more beauti- 
 ful, none more scarce, than this ; let professing Chris- 
 tians set themselves to work with their own proud 
 hearts, and their own boasting tongues, remembering 
 that they who sink the lowest in humility in this world, 
 shall assuredly rise the highest in honour in the world 
 to come. 
 
 10*
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE DECORUM OP LOVE. 
 
 " Charity doth not behave itself unseemly." 
 
 A STATION for every person, and every person in 
 his station ; a time for everything, and everything in its 
 time; a manner for everything, and everything in its 
 manner ; is a compendious and admirable rule for hu- 
 man conduct, and seems to approach very nearly to the 
 property of charity, which we are now to consider. 
 There is some difficulty in ascertaining the precise idea 
 which the Apostle intended by the original term. Per- 
 haps the most correct rendering is "indecorously," 
 "unbecomingly," i. e. unsuitably to our sex, rank, age, 
 or circumstances. Love leads a man to know his place, 
 and to keep it ; and prevents all those deviations which, 
 by disarranging the order, disturb the comfort, of so- 
 ciety. This is so general and comprehensive a rule, 
 that it would admit of application to all the various dis- 
 tinctions which exist in life. It is absolutely universal, 
 and binds with equal force the monarch and the peas- 
 ant, and all the numerous intermediate ranks. It im- 
 iK>ses a consistency between a man's station and his
 
 103 
 
 conduct viewed in the light of Christianity. It says to 
 every man, " Consider your circumstances, and fulfil 
 every just expectation to which they give rise." By the 
 common consent of mankind, there is a certain line of 
 conduct which belongs to every relation in life, and 
 which cannot, perhaps, he better expressed than by the 
 word " becomingness ;" and which may be called the 
 symmetry of the body politic. We may select a few 
 of the more prominent distinctions of society, and see 
 how love preserves them without giving offence. 
 
 The distinction of male and female is to be supported 
 by all propriety of conduct. On the part of the man, 
 if he be single, all trifling with the affections, all fa- 
 miliarity with the person, all taking advantage of the 
 weakness of the other sex, is explicitly forbidden ; as 
 is all neglect, oppression and unkindness towards his 
 wife, if he be married. What a horrid unseemliness is 
 it on the part of a husband, to become either the slave 
 or the tyrant of his wife ; either in pitiful weakness to 
 abdicate the throne of domestic government, or to make 
 her a crouching vassal, trembling in its shadow ; and 
 how disgusting a spectacle is it to see a husband aban- 
 doning the society of his wife for the company of other 
 females, and flirting, though, perhaps, with no criminal 
 intention, with either single or married women. On 
 the other hand, how unseemly in unmarried women, 
 is a bold obtrusiveness of manner, an impudent for- 
 wardness of address, a clamorous and monopolizing 
 strain of conversation, an evident attempt to attract the 
 attention of the other sex. Modesty is the brightest or- 
 nament of the female character, its very becoming- 
 ness. And women, if married, should be stayers at 
 home, and not gossips abroad ; should look well to the 
 ways of their household, and preside over its affairs in 
 the meekness of wisdom ; for domestic indolence and 
 neglect is, in a wife and mother, most unseemly : nor is it 
 less offensive to see the female head of a family usurp- 
 ing the seat of government, and reducing her husband
 
 104 
 
 to the rank of mere prime minister to the queen. Wo- 
 men never act more unseemly than when they become 
 busy meddling partisans, either in politics or church af- 
 fairs/ Nothing can be more offensive than to see a fe- 
 male busy-body running from house to house to raise a 
 party, and to influence an ecclesiastical decision ; for- 
 getting that her place is home, and her duty to learn in 
 silence of her husband. Whatever admiration has been 
 bestowed on the heroic females of Sparta, who fought 
 by the side of their husbands, no such eulogy can be of- 
 fered to ecclesiastical heroines, whose martial ardour 
 leads them into the arena of church contentions. Chris- 
 tian charity would repress all this unmeet,indecorous zeal. 
 Parents and guardians will be guarded by love, if they 
 yield to its influence, from all unbecoming conduct. 
 Fathers will neither be tyrannical nor too indulgent ; 
 will neither govern their children as slaves, with a rod of 
 ^ iron, nor, relaxing all discipline, throw the reins into 
 their hands : for how incongruous is tyranny with a re- 
 lation that implies the tenderest affection ; and how un- 
 seemly is a cessation of rule in one who is invested by 
 heaven with a sacred authority. Becomingness on the 
 part of children, requires the most prompt and willing 
 obedience, the most genuine and manifest affection, the 
 most respectful and humble demeanour, towards pa- 
 rents, with the most anxious, and ingenious endeavours 
 to promote their happiness. Everything approaching 
 to improper familiarity, much morl to pertness, most of 
 all to refractoriness of manner, in a child towards a pa- 
 rent, is unbecoming in the last degree. In those cases 
 where the high 4noral and intellectual qualities of pa- 
 rents are such as almost to command the exercise of 
 filial piety from children, there is no difficulty in ren- 
 dering it; but where these qualities are not possess- 
 ed, there is greater danger of young persons forgetting 
 what is due to the parental relation, and acting very 
 improperly towards those who, whatever may be their 
 faults, are still their parents. It is excessively unbe-
 
 105 
 
 coming to hear children of any age, however matured 
 or advanced, exposing, perhaps ridiculing, their parents' 
 infirmities, treating their opinions with scorn, and re- 
 proving or upbraiding them to their face. Let all 
 young people recollect, that whatever may be the char- 
 acter of a parent, 
 
 " A mother is a mother still, 
 The holiest thing alive.'' 
 
 In the distinction of superiors and inferiors, it is very 
 easy to see what kind of conduct is seemly, and what 
 is unsuitable. To the former, it will prohibit all im- 
 proper familiarity for this generates contempt and at 
 the same time, all pride and hauteur, together with all 
 insulting condescension. Inferiors are most tenderly 
 alive, most keenly susceptible, to all real or supposed 
 slights from those above them ; and the feelings excited 
 by such treatment are of the most painful kind. Pride 
 is the most cruel of the passions, being utterly reckless 
 of the wounds which it inflicts, the groans which it ex- 
 torts, or the tears which it causes to flow. Even in its 
 mildest exercise, by a look of scorn, by a word of in- 
 sult, it often transfixes a barbed arrow in the breast of 
 an inferior ; while, by its deliberate and persevering 
 scheme of mortification, it remorselessly crucifies the 
 object of its contempt. O how unbecoming to em- 
 ploy superiority only as an eminence from whence, as, 
 with a sort of vulture ferocity, we might pounce with 
 greater force on a victim below. Dignified affability is 
 the becomingness of superiority, which, while it does 
 not remove the line of distinction, does not render it 
 painfully visible. Love will make us cautious not to 
 wound the feelings of others by talking to them of our 
 superiority, or by making them in any way feel it. On 
 the part of inferiors, it will prevent all encroaching fa- 
 miliarity, all presuming upon manifested kindness all 
 attempt, or even wish, to level the distinctions of society 
 . all rude, uncourteous, uncivil demeanour. Some
 
 106 
 
 persons seem to act as if religion removed the obliga- 
 tion to civility, declared war with courtesy, and involv- 
 ed a man in hostility with whatever things are lovely. 
 Incivility or rudeness, manifested by the poor to the 
 rich, by servants to masters, or by the illiterate to the 
 well-informed, is unfriendly to the peace and good 
 order of society, and, therefore, contrary to Christian 
 charity. 
 
 Age and youth are also distinctions requiring a suita- 
 ble or becoming line of conduct. Levity, puerility, and 
 folly, are among the qualities which would be indeco- 
 rous in the former; while obtrusiveness, forwardness, 
 loquaciousness, and pertinacity; would be unseemly in 
 the latter : age, to be lovely, should treat youth with 
 kindness and forbearance ; while youth should treat 
 age with reverence, respect and deference. 
 
 These distinctions, when carried into the Church, 
 where they exist as well as in the world, should be 
 maintained under the most powerful influence of the 
 holy disposition which we are now illustrating. This 
 will teach us with all candour and impartiality to judge 
 of our station, and to adorn it with actions that are 
 suitable to it. Anything unbecoming is sure to give 
 offence, and to produce discomfort. Whether our rank 
 be high or low, we cannot violate the rule which pre- 
 scribes its duties without occasioning pain. 
 
 Men are united in society like the organs and limbs 
 in the human body ; and no one, in either case, can be 
 put out of its place without producing uneasiness in the 
 rest. The object of love is to keep all in their proper 
 places, and thus to promote the well-being of the whole. 
 
 There is another sense which this expression will 
 bear, and that is, love does not allow its possessor to 
 act unworthy of his profession as a disciple of Christ. 
 Consistency is beauty ; and the want of which, what- 
 ever excellences may exist, is deformity. The bright- 
 est displays of moral worth in some things, if associated 
 with obvious and great improprieties in others, lose all
 
 107 
 
 their attraction and power to edify or delight, and are 
 the occasion of pain instead of pleasure to the specta- 
 tor. The rule which the Apostle has laid down is par- 
 ticularly worthy of the attention of us all " Whatso- 
 ever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good 
 report, if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, 
 think of these things." It is not enough for us to 
 acknowledge, practically, the claims of truth, purity, 
 and justice ; but we must also meet and answer every 
 expectation which our profession and our principles 
 have raised. Whatever is generally esteemed to be 
 lovely whatever is usually spoken of as excellent 
 whatever it be to which by general consent we attach 
 the idea of the fair, and the honourable, and the praise- 
 worthy, that must a follower of Christ consider to be 
 the matter of his duty. There is nothing good in itself, 
 or advantageous to others nothing that is calculated to 
 edify by the power, of example, or to bless in the way 
 of direct energy and influence nothing that is calcu- 
 lated to give pleasure, or to remove distress, but what 
 is implied in the very nature of true piety. Religion 
 is the likeness of God in the soul of man ; and a Chris- 
 tian is truly an imitator of God ; hence he is called 
 " to walk- worthy of God," to act as becometh 
 one who professes to bear the divine image. Let any 
 one contemplate the moral attributes of the Deity, and 
 think what that man ought to be who professes to give 
 to the world a living miniature representation of this 
 infinitely glorious Being. On the ground of consisten- 
 cy, he should be blameless and harmless ; a follower 
 only of that which is good ; holy in all manner of con- 
 versation and godliness ; a beautiful specimen of what- 
 soever is noble, dignified, generous, and useful. The 
 world take us at our word : they accept our profession as 
 the rule of their expectation ; and although they often 
 look for too much, considering the present imperfect 
 state of human nature, yet, to a certain extent, their 
 demands are authorized by our own declarations.
 
 108 
 
 What, in reason, may not be looked for from one who 
 professes to have received the word of Christ, the tem- 
 per of heaven, the impress of eternity, the nature of 
 God ? Hence, the least deviations from rectitude are 
 apparent in those who say such things ; the least specks 
 of imperfection are conspicuous on so bright a ground ; 
 faults stand out in bold relief and obtrusive prominence, 
 on such a basement. Our profession invites the eye 
 of scrutiny ; we are not suffered to pass the ordeal of 
 public opinion without the most rigid scrutiny; we are 
 brought out from obscurity, and held up to be examined 
 in the light of the sun. Failings, which would escape 
 detection in others, are quickly discerned and loudly 
 proclaimed in us : and it is, therefore, of immense con- 
 sequence that we should take care what manner of 
 persons we are. Without consistency, even our good 
 will be evil spoken of: the least violation of this rule 
 will attach suspicion to the most distinguished virtues, 
 and bring discredit on the best of our actions. 
 
 A want of consistency is a violation of the law of love 
 in various ways. By exciting a prejudice against reli- 
 gion, it does harm to the souls of men ; it makes them 
 satisfied with their state as unconverted persons, by 
 leading them to consider every professor of a more se- 
 rious regard to religion as a hypocrite. It is very true 
 that this is unfair ; that it is attending more to excep- 
 tions than the general rule; that it is giving credence 
 to little things, and suffering them to have an influence 
 which are denied to the greater and more prevailing 
 parts of the character ; but as this is their way, it 
 makes every departure from consistency on our part, 
 not only sinful but injurious not only guilty in the 
 sight of God, but cruel towards man. The minor 
 faults of Christians do more harm, in the way of har- 
 dening the hearts of sinners, than the greatest excesses 
 of the openly wicked ; for this reason, that nothing else 
 is expected from the latter. Their conduct excites no 
 surprise, produces no disappointment. We have not
 
 109 
 
 been sufficiently aware of this : we have confined our 
 attention too exclusively to the avoidance of open im- 
 morality we have not directed our solicitude enough 
 to " the whatsoever things are lovely and of good re- 
 port." To the question, "What do ye more than oth- 
 ers 1" we have thought it enough to answer, " We are 
 more pure, more true, more devotional, more zealous," 
 without being careful to be more dignified, more hon- 
 ourable, more generous, in all things. Little things 
 have been forgotten in the contemplation of great ones ; 
 secret faults have been lost sight of in the abhorrence 
 of presumptious sins. 
 
 A want of becomingness is a violation of the law of 
 love in another way : it excites a prejudice against our 
 brethren, and involves them in our failings. By such 
 conduct we bring suspicion upon others, and thus sub- 
 ject them to much undeserved obloquy. The world 
 deals unfairly with us we admit, not only in making us 
 thus answerable for the conduct of each other, but also 
 in imputing only our failings ; for however splendid and 
 remarkable may be the Christian excellences that any of 
 our number possess, however brilliant the example of 
 a rare and eminent believer may be, they do not let his 
 brightness fall upon the rest he is alone in his glory ; 
 but sins are generally made imputable, and the shadow 
 of one transgression is made to stretch, perhaps, over 
 a whole community. What an argument is this with 
 us all for consistency ; for what cruelty is it to our 
 brethren to involve them by our inconsistencies in un- 
 merited reproach ! 
 
 Besides, what a grief of mind is the umaorthiness of 
 one member, to all who are associated with him in the fel- 
 lowship of the Gospel. When a member of a church 
 has acted unbecomingly, and caused the ways of god- 
 liness to be spoken ill of, what a wound has been inflicted 
 on the body ; for if one member suffer in his reputation, 
 all the rest must, so far as their peace is concerned, 
 suffer with him. This is one of the finest displays of
 
 110 
 
 Christian sympathy one of the purest exhibitions of 
 love, of love to God, to Christ, to man, to holiness. 
 The misconduct of their erring brother has occasioned 
 no loss to them of worldly substance, or bodily ease, 
 or social comfort ; but it has dishonoured Christ, has 
 injured, in public estimation, the cause of religion, and 
 this has touched the tenderest chord of the renewed 
 heart. What affliction has sometimes been circulated 
 through a whole society by the unbecoming behaviour 
 of a single member : the Apostle has given a very stri- 
 king proof of this, in his representation of the feelings 
 of the Corinthian Church, after they had taken a right 
 view of the delinquency of the incestuous person. 
 " For behold this self-same thing, that ye sorrowed af- 
 ter a godly sort, what carefulness it wrought in you, yea, 
 what clearing of yourselves, yea, what fervent indigna- 
 tion, yea, what fear, yea, what vehement desire, yea, 
 what zeal, yea, what revenge !" This is only a coun- 
 terpart of what often happens now, and shows that un- 
 becomingness is a most flagrant offence against the 
 rule of Christian love. 
 
 Unbecomingness may be considered also not only in 
 a general point of view, but as having a reference to our 
 conduct towards our BRETHREN, and may mean any- 
 thing unsuitable to, or out of character with, our pro- 
 fession as church members. 
 
 Improper treatment of the Pastor, is obviously a want 
 of the decorum of love. If his office be disesteemed, 
 and his scriptural authority resisted ; if attempts be 
 made to lower him in the opinion of the church, and 
 to deprive him of the rule with which he is invested by 
 the Lord Jesus Christ ; if his opinion is treated with 
 disrespect, and his just influence over the feelings of his 
 flock be undermined ; if he be rudely and impertinently 
 addressed ; if he be unnecessarily opposed in his 
 schemes for public or private usefulness ; if his ser- 
 mons be despised or neglected, and his ecclesiastical 
 administration treated with suspicion or contempt ; if
 
 in 
 
 his temporal support be scantily or grudgingly afforded'; 
 if his comfort be not carefully consulted and assiduously 
 built up ; there is a flagrant unbecomingness on the 
 part of church members who are enjoined " to obey 
 them that have the rule over them," " to esteem them 
 very 'highly in love for their works' sake," " and to hold 
 such in reputation." 
 
 Lust of power, and an ambitious desire of prepondera- 
 ting influence, is manifestly unbecoming in one who 
 acknowledges himself the member of a society where 
 all are equals, and all are the servants of a master who 
 has thus addressed his disciples " Ye know that the 
 princes of the Gentiles exercise dominion over them, 
 and they that are great exercise authority upon them ; 
 but it shall not be so among you ; but whosoever will 
 be great among you, let him be your minister; and 
 whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your 
 servant. Even as the Son of man came not to be 
 ministered unto but to minister, and to give his life a 
 ransom for many." A love of power seems almost 
 inherent in the human bosom, and is an operation of 
 that selfishness which enters so deeply into the essence 
 of original sin. Nothing can be more opposed to love 
 than this. Ambition, in its progress through its bust- 
 ling and violent career, is the most unsocial and un- 
 charitable passion that can exist. The furies are its 
 allies, and it tramples down in its course all the charities 
 and courtesies of life. When this disposition has taken 
 full possession of the heart, there is no cruelty which it 
 will hesitate to inflict, no desolation of which it will 
 scruple to be the cause. The lesser exhibitions of this 
 vice, and its more moderated energies, will still be attend- 
 ed with some proofs of its unsocial nature. Let a 
 man once desire to be pre-eminent and predominant, 
 as it respects influence or power, and he will not be 
 very regardless of the feelings of those whom he de- 
 sires to subjugate. It is much to be deplored, that the 
 Christian church should ever be the field where rival
 
 112 
 
 candidates for power, struggle for superiority ; yet how 
 often has this been seen to be the case, not merely in 
 the Conclave where aspiring cardinals have put in mo- 
 tion all their artifice, and finesse, and duplicity, to gain 
 the tiara ; not merely amongst mitred prelates for a 
 higher seat on the episcopal bench ; no ; but amongst 
 the lay brethren of the church. How anxious and 
 restless have they sometimes appeared, to be leading 
 men, influential members, the oracle of the minister, 
 and the ruling elders of the church. They must not 
 only be consulted in everything, but consulted first. 
 Every plan must emanate from them, or else be appro- 
 ved by them before it is submitted to the rest. The 
 Apostle has drawn their picture to the life, where he 
 saith " I wrote unto the church; but Diotrephes. who 
 loveth to have the pre-eminence among them, receiveth 
 us not. Wherefore, if 1 come, I will remember his 
 deeds which he doeth, prating against us with malicious 
 words ; and not content therewith, neither doth he him- 
 self receive the brethren, and forbiddeth them that 
 would, and casteth them out of the church."* Such 
 an individual must be a source of discomfort to his 
 brethren in communion. There may be no competitor 
 with him for the sceptre who regards him with envy, 
 but the whole community are grieved and offended with 
 his unlovely and encroaching disposition. 
 
 There are cases, it is admitted, in which age, experi- 
 ence, wisdom, benevolence, and activity, are so beauti- 
 fully combined in an individual, as to place him, more 
 by general consent, than by his own efforts, above all 
 his brethren in influence. When he openeth his mouth 
 in wisdom, all are silent ; and the pastor hearkens with 
 the rest in respectful deference to his opinion. No one 
 would think of proposing any scheme till he had been 
 
 * 3 John 9, 10. It ia pretty evident to me that Diotrephea was a 
 minuter ; but the features of his picture apply with equal force to an 
 ambitious and aspiring layman, whose lust of power is still more cen- 
 surable, a it ha* not even the basis of office to rest upon-
 
 113 
 
 consulted, and his disapproval, mildly expressed, would 
 be thought a sufficient reason for laying it aside. He 
 has power, but it has come to him without his seeking 
 it, and it is employed not to exhalt himself, but to benefit 
 the church. His sway is the influence of love ; and 
 all that influence is employed by him, not to raise him- 
 self into a rival with his pastor for the upper seat in the 
 church, but to support the authority and dignity of the 
 pastoral office. Such men we have sometimes seen in 
 our communities, and they have been a blessing to the 
 people, and a comfort to the minister. If any indi- 
 viduals could have been found in the circle where they 
 moved, so flippant and so forward as to treat them with 
 the least degree of disrespect, every one besides would 
 have been loud in the expression of their disapprobation 
 of such an act of censurable indecorum. 
 
 Unseemliness in the conduct of a church member 
 towards his brethren, applies to all that is rude, unman- 
 nerly, or uncivil. " No ill-bred man," says Dr. Adam 
 Clark, in his comments on this word, " or what is com- 
 monly termed rude or unmannerly, is a Christian" 
 certainly not a consistent one. " A man may have a 
 natural bluntness, or be a clown, and yet there may be 
 nothing boorish, or hoggish in his manner. I must 
 apologize for using such words, but they best express 
 the evil against which I wish both powerfully and suc- 
 cessfully to declaim. I never wish to meet with those 
 who affect to be called 'blunt honest men;' who feel 
 themselves above all the forms of civility and respect, 
 and care not how many they put to pain how many 
 they displease. But let me not be misunderstood : I 
 do not contend for ridiculous ceremonies, and hollow 
 compliments : there is surely a medium ; and a sensible 
 Christian man will not be long at a loss to find it out. 
 Even that people who profess to be above all worldly 
 forms, arid are generally stiff enough, yet are rarely 
 found to be rude, uncivil, or ill bred." There is much 
 good sense in these remarks, that deserves the atten- 
 11*
 
 114 
 
 tion of all professing Christians who have the credit of 
 religion and the comfort of their brethren at heart. It 
 is inconceivable what a great degree of unnecessary 
 distress is occasioned by a disregard of this rule ; and 
 how many hearts are continually bleeding, from the 
 wounds inflicted by incivility and rudeness. We 
 should be careful to avoid this ; for religion gives no 
 man a release from the courtesies of life. In our pri- 
 vate intercourse with our brethren, we should be anxious 
 to give no offence. If we feel it our duty at any time, as 
 we may, and ought to expostulate with a brother on the 
 impropriety of his conduct, we should be most studi- 
 ously cautious to abstain from all appearance of what 
 is impertinently officious, or offensively blunt. Reproof, 
 or even expostulation, is rarely palatable, even when 
 administered with the honied sweetness of Christian 
 kindness ; but it is wormwood and gall when mingled 
 up with uncourteousness, and will generally be rejected 
 with disdain and disgust. We must never think of act- 
 ing the part of a reprover, till we have put on humility 
 as a garment, and taken up the law of kindness in our 
 lips. 
 
 Nothing is more likely to lead to incivility, than re- 
 peated and vexatious interruptions) when engaged in some 
 interesting or important business, or required to com- 
 ply with unreasonable requests. I have known cases 
 in which, when application has been made for what the 
 applicant thought to be a very reasonable matter, his 
 request has been treated with such scorn, and denied 
 with such abruptness and coarseness of manner, as to 
 send him home with an arrow in his heart ; when a few 
 moments spent in explanation, or a denial given in kind 
 and respectful language, would have completely satis- 
 fied him. It is admitted that it is somewhat trying, and 
 it is a trial of very common occurrence in the present 
 day, to be called from important occupations to listen 
 to tales of wo, or read the statement of want, or an- 
 swer the inquiries of ignorance : but still we must not
 
 115 
 
 be, ought not to be, rude. Sudden interruptions are 
 apt to throw a man off his guard : he has scarcely time 
 to call into exercise his principles, before his passions 
 are up and busy. It is said of Mr. Romaine, that he 
 was one day called upon by a poor woman in distress 
 of soul, for the purpose of gaining instruction and con- 
 solation. The good man was busy in his study ; and 
 on being informed that a poor woman wanted to con- 
 verse with him below, exclaimed, with great incivility 
 of manner, " Tell her 1 cannot attend to her." The 
 humble applicant, who was within hearing of the re- 
 ception her case had met with, said, " Ah, Sir ! your 
 master would not have treated thus a burdened penitent 
 who came to him for mercy." " No, no," replied the 
 good man, softened by an appeal which his heart could 
 not resist, " he would not ; come in, come in !" Too, 
 too often has the same petulant indecorum been mani- 
 fested by others, without being accompanied by the same 
 reparation : !hey have pierced the heart and left the 
 wound to fester: the petitioners have carried away 
 from their door their misery, not only unrelieved but 
 greatly aggravated. But there is a peculiar sensitive- 
 ness on the subject of pecuniary contributions in some 
 persons ; to ask for them is an offence, which they pay 
 back in insult.* They are the Nabals of the Church 
 
 * I must here specify the applications which are so frequent in the 
 present day for the support of churches and public institutions. I am 
 aware that the bells and knockers of some persons doors are rarely 
 silent long together, or their parlours and counting-houses rarely free 
 from "beggars'* a single hour of any day : I am also aware how trying it 
 is to be called away from occupations of importance to attend to such 
 cases ; but even this does not justify a man for going into a passion at 
 the sight of a red book and a black coat, and almost ordering the bearer 
 off the premises as an impostor or vagrant. Let such persons ask, 
 whether it is not misery enough to pace the streets of a city or large 
 town, and, at the end of a long day's weary pilgrimage, have to count 
 up far more " negatives" than pounds ? I have never known by expe- 
 rience, but I have heard by reports, the sorrows of beggars ; and from 
 regard to common humanity, as well as from a wish to save the minis- 
 terial character from degradation, i do most ardently desire some
 
 116 
 
 if, indeed, the Church could have a Nabal. What can 
 be more unseemly than words which would disgrace a 
 man, dropping, dropping ! no flowing in a stream, 
 from the lips of a professing Christian. 
 
 Unbecoming rudeness should be most sedulously 
 avoided in our public intercourse with the church, and in 
 our social circles, when meeting as brethren. Every 
 thing of flat contradiction, of unwarrantable suspicion 
 concerning the truth of a statement ; all seeming con- 
 tempt for the opinions of others ; all attempts to inter- 
 
 scheme, in place of the present mode of raising money from rich 
 Christians, to help the necessities of their poorer brethren. But till 
 that scheme shall be devised and I am afraid the time is far distant 
 which shall produce it, let me plead for civility towards those who 
 are still doomed to bear the yoke of bondage. " Forasmuch as ye 
 did it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye did it unto me." 
 So says Christ of his brethren, and says it in reference both to benefits 
 and neglects. When popular men travel from place to place, many 
 houses are open to receive them many tables spread to entertain 
 them. They meet with no rudeness, no unkindness. But this is for 
 their own sakes. Our regard for Christ is proved by our conduct to 
 the least, not to the greatest, of his brethren. And are the great min- 
 isters free from all blame in reference to their conduct towards theic 
 humble brethren ? They are glad to entertain the popular favourites 
 of the day the men of name or talents ; but how do they behave 
 to the 
 
 " Multi practerea quos fama obscura recondit ? 
 
 Do they not order these to be sent away from their door without an 
 audience, or keep them long waiting for an interview, and then dismiss 
 the good man, sorrowfully exclaiming, " Am I not thy brother? 1 ' 
 
 Whilst we cheerfully accord the sentiments expressed in the above 
 note, we still think there is need for the exercise of Christian Charity 
 on the part of those, who make applications for aid- Forgetting that 
 the benevolent are frequently called upon, and that they have a right to 
 regulate their subscriptions ; agents are strongly tempted to question 
 the liberality of, and to impute wrong motives to those, who do not 
 contribute ns largely as was anticipated. Whilst there are causes 
 justly claiming the aid of the benevolent in our cities ; still there is a 
 radical evil in the custom so prevalent in this day, of hastening to the 
 cities to build churches in the country. As a general fact it will be 
 found true, that communities are able BY PROPER EFFORT AND DUB 
 ECONOMY to provide suitable houses of worship for themselves. 
 
 AM. ED.
 
 117 
 
 rupt or bear down, by clamour and vehemence, those 
 with whom we may be engaged in discussion, should 
 be very anxiously abstained from. It is truly painful to 
 observe what an utter disregard for the feelings of their 
 brethren is often manifested by some ardent sticklers 
 for their own opinions and plans. But is not civility a 
 Christian grace 1 Did not the apostle say, Be courte- 
 ous] Why should that which is considered by the 
 world as a rich decoration of character, as softening 
 arid embellishing the intercourse of society, and as so 
 important and necessary as to be placed under the 
 guardianship of what is called the law of honour, and 
 to be avenged, for the slightest violation of it, by the 
 punishment of death ; why should this ever be con- 
 sidered as of little moment in the business of religion 
 and the fellowship of the faithful 1 If rudeness be con- 
 sidered as a blemish upon talents, rank, fame, must it 
 not be viewed also as a blot and deformity upon piety ? 
 Most certainly it is regarded as such by charity, whose 
 anxiety to do whatever would give pleasure, and to avoid 
 whatever would occasion distress, is not greater than 
 its delicate perception of every thing that will contri- 
 bute to this end. 
 
 We see in this subject the wonderful excellence of 
 Christianity, as a code of morals, a rule of conduct, 
 and a body of principles ; for in addition to specific 
 laws, intended to operate in the production of certain 
 virtues, and the prevention of certain vices, it has 
 general and comprehensive precepts, capable of 
 universal application, of so plain a nature as to be 
 understood by the dullest intellect, and possessing, at 
 the same time, a kind of beauty, which gives them 
 an interest in every heart; so that if in the specialities 
 of Christian morals, properly so called, any case should 
 be overlooked, or any situation should not be reached 
 any distinction between virtue and vice should be so 
 minute as to be imperceptible any delicacy of char- 
 acter so refined as not to be taken into the account, 
 here is something to supply the defect, and render the 

 
 118 
 
 law of God perfect for converting the soul. Love does 
 not act unbecomingly; and who is so ignorant, if he 
 would but consult his conscience, as not to know what 
 would be thought by others unbecoming in himself 7
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE DISINTERESTEDNESS OF LOVE. 
 
 " Charity, seeketh not her own." 
 
 IF it were required to give a brief and summary de- 
 scription of man's original apostacy, we might say, that 
 it was his departure from G od, the fountain of his hap- 
 piness, and the end of his existence, and retiring into 
 himself as the ultimate end of all his actions : and if it 
 were also asked, what is the essence of his sin, the sum 
 of his moral depravity, we might say, to love himself 
 supremely, to seek himself finally and exclusively, to 
 make self, in one shape or another, the centre to which 
 all his busy thoughts, anxious cares, and diligent pur- 
 suits constantly tend. Self-love is the most active and 
 reigning principle in fallen nature; self is the great idol 
 which mankind are naturally disposed to worship ; and 
 selfishness the grand interest to which they are devo- 
 tedly attached. But the grace of God, when it re- 
 news the heart, so corrects and subdues this disposition, 
 that it is no longer the ascendant of the mind ; and 
 plants in the human bosom the principle of benevo- 
 lence a principle which as it leads us to love God su- 
 premely, and our neighbour as ourselves, is the direct 
 contrary of selfishness.
 
 120 
 
 Believing that the perfection of virtue lies in disin- 
 terested love, it follows, that the nearer we approach to 
 this state of mind, the nearer we come to sinless moral 
 excellence. This is the temper of the innumerable 
 company of angels of the spirits of just men made 
 perfect. It has been argued, that we take delight in 
 the happiness of others, because their happiness increas- 
 es our own : but the circumstance of our happiness 
 being increased by promoting theirs, is itself a convinc- 
 ing proof of the existence and exercise of an antece- 
 dent good will towards them. Our felicity is raised by 
 theirs. Why? because we love them. Why am I 
 made unhappy by the sight of another's wo 1 because 
 I have good will to the subject of distress. It is true I 
 am gratified by relieving him, and my comfort would be 
 disturbed if I did not ; but what is the origin of these 
 feelings 1 certainly a previous good will towards them. 
 It is not affirmed, that all pity proceeds from holy love ; 
 but that where love does exist, and in the proportion 
 in which it exists, it is disinterested and is distinguished 
 from selfishness. It may be proper here to distinguish 
 between self-love and selfishness; not that they are es- 
 sentially different, but only in the use of the terms as 
 they are employed in common discourse. 
 
 By selfishness, we mean such a regard to our own 
 things, as is inconsistent with, and destructive of, a 
 right regard to the things of others : whereas by self- 
 love, we mean nothing more than that attention to our 
 own affairs which we owe to ourselves as part of uni- 
 versal being. Selfishness means the neglect or injury 
 of others, in order to concentrate our views, and de- 
 sires, and pursuits in ourselves; whilr self-love means 
 only that proper and due regard to our own interests 
 which we may pay, without the neglect or injury of our 
 neighbour. 
 
 Self-love, when exercised in connexion with, and 
 subordinate to, good will to mankind, as it may be, is 
 not only consistent with virtue, but is a part of it; but 
 when not thus connected, it degenerates into selfishness.
 
 121 
 
 Selfishness leads men to seek their own interests in 
 opposition to the interests of others. Multitudes care 
 not whom they oppress, so as they can estahlish their 
 own power ; whom they vilify and degrade so as they 
 can increase their own fame ; whom they impoverish, 
 so as they can accumulate their own wealth ; whom 
 they distress, so as they can augment their own com- 
 forts. This is the worst and most cruel operation of 
 selfishness. It is the same propensity, only sharpened, 
 and guided, and rendered the more mischievous, by the 
 aid of reason, as that which exists in the vulture and the 
 tiger, and which gorges itself to repletion, deaf to the 
 piercing cries of the helpless victim which struggles in 
 its talons. 
 
 Intent only on gratification, it riots amidst misery, if 
 by this means it can aggrandize itself. Looking on the 
 possessions of those around only with an envious eye, 
 it is solicitous that they may be appropriated in some 
 way to itself. This is a horrible and truly infernal dis- 
 position'; for it would reign with a kind of universal 
 despotism, would subdue all into vassalage, and suffer 
 nothing to exist, but what was tributary to its own com- 
 fort. 
 
 Selfishness sometimes causes its subjects only to neg- 
 lect the things of others. They do not oppress, or in- 
 jure, or despoil ; they are neither robbers nor calumni- 
 ators ; but they are so engrossed by self-interest, and 
 so absorbed in self-gratification, as to be utterly regard- 
 less of the miseries or comfort of which they cannot 
 but be the spectators. They have no sympathies, no 
 benevolent sensibilities ; they have cut themselves off 
 from their species, and care nothing for the happiness of 
 any of their neighbours. Their highest boast and at- 
 tainment in virtue is, to wrong none : their idea of ex- 
 cellence is purely of a negative kind ; to dispel sorrow, 
 to relieve want, to diffuse gladness, especially to make 
 sacrifices ; to do this, is an effort which they have never 
 tried, and which they have no inclination to try. The 
 world might perish, if the desolation did not reach 
 
 12
 
 122 
 
 them. Miserable and guilty creatures, they forget that 
 they will be punished for not doing good, as well as for 
 doing evil. The unprofitable servant was condemned ; 
 and the wicked are represented, at the last day, as 
 doomed to hell, not for inflicting sorrow, but for not re- 
 lieving it. 
 
 A man is guilty of selfishness, if he seeks his own 
 things out of all proportion to the regard he pays to the 
 things of others. 
 
 If, from a regard to our reputation, we cannot live in 
 the total neglect of those around us, and, in deference 
 either to public opinion, or to the remonstrances of our 
 consciences, we are compelled to yield something to the 
 claims of the public ; yet, at the same time, our conces- 
 sions may be so measured in quantity, and made with 
 such reluctance and ill will, that our predominant self- 
 ishness may be as clearly manifested by what we give, 
 as by what we withhold. That which we call our lib- 
 erality, manifests, in this case, our avarice ; that which 
 we denominate generosity, demonstrates our sinful self- 
 love. 
 
 Selfishness sometimes seeks its own, under the pre- 
 tence and profession of promoting the happiness of others. 
 Where the ruling passion of the heart is the love of ap- 
 plause, large sacrifices of wealth, and time, and ease, 
 and feeling, will be readily made for fame ; and where 
 men have objects to gain, which require kindness, con- 
 ciliation, and attention, nothing in this way is too much 
 to be done to accomplish their purpose. This is a dis- 
 gusting operation of this very disgusting temper, when 
 all its seeming good will is but an efilux of kindnes?, 
 which is to flow back again, in lull tide, into the recep- 
 tacle of self. Many are the detestable traders, whose 
 generosity is only a barter for something in return. 
 How much of the seeming goodness of human nature, 
 of the sympathy with human wo, of the pity for want, 
 of the aiuiety for the comfort of wretchedness, which 
 jia^-s run-rut l'r \iiluc amoni; mankind, is nothing 
 better than a counterfeit imitation of benevolence, is
 
 123 
 
 known only to that God whose omniscient eye traces 
 the secret workings of our depravity through all the 
 labyrinths of a deceitful heart. 
 
 But notice now the subjects, in reference to which 
 selfishness is indulged. 
 
 Property is the first. It shows itself in an anxiety to 
 obtain wealth, and an unwillingness to part with it ; a 
 disposition greedy as the sea, and barren as the shore. 
 You will see some men so excessively eager to get 
 profit, that they are ever watching to take undue advan- 
 tage, and so keen-eyed in looking after their own, that 
 they need be closely inspected, to prevent them from 
 taking more than their own : for a man who is pre- 
 vailingly selfish, can hardly be honest. And what they 
 gain, they keep : neither the cause of humanity, nor of 
 religion, can extort money from them, except now and 
 then, to get rid of an importunate suitor, or to prevent 
 their reputation from being utterly ruined. 
 
 It is sometimes exercised in reference to opinion. 
 Some will not bear contradiction ; they must be listen- 
 ed to as sages; to question what they say is to insult 
 them, and is sure to bring down upon the presumptuous 
 sceptic their contempt or their frown. They will 
 scarcely allow any one to speak but themselves ; they 
 must be the oracle of every company and the director 
 of every affair, or they retire in disgust, and refuse to 
 act at all. In the concerns of our churches, this is oft- 
 en seen and felt. What is it but pure selfishness, that 
 leads any one to wish that he should dictate to the rest ; 
 that his opinion should be law ; and his wishes be con- 
 sulted and obeyed "? This is not love ; no, love gives 
 up her own, where conscience does not inte'rfere to for- 
 bid it, and meekly and quietly resigns its wishes to in- 
 crease peace and promote harmony : its object is the 
 public good, and its law is, the best means of promo- 
 ting the general welfare. If in the intercourse of life, 
 or the affairs of a church, every individual determined 
 to consult only his own views and wishes, society would 
 be dissolved, and its separate parts embroiled in a state 
 of mutual conflict. In the various discussions which
 
 fg 
 
 come before a public body, Selfishness says, " I am 
 sure my opinion is correct ; and I will, if possible, bare 
 my way :" but the language of Love is, " I have stated 
 my opinion and my wishes ; if the former does not 
 carry conviction, I by no means wish it to be adopted, 
 nor my desires to be gratified, I am anxious for the 
 comfort of my brethren, and I yield my wishes to 
 theirs." 
 
 Some persons have acquired habits in their general con- 
 duct, which are exceedingly annoying to others; they have 
 sources of personal gratification, peculiarities of hu- 
 mour, in which it is impossible to indulge, without 
 greatly incommoding those around them : but so detest- 
 ably selfish is their disposition, at least with regard to 
 these practices, that let who will be disturbed, offend- 
 ed, or put to serious inconvenience, they will not fore- 
 go, in the least degree, their accustomed indulgence. 
 When the unfortunate sufferers were expiring in the 
 Black Hole at Calcutta, and entreated the centinels to 
 represent their agonizing and fatal condition to the ty- 
 rant who had imprisoned them, the guards answered, 
 " No ; he is enjoying his repose, and it will be certain 
 death to us if we disturb him, even for your relief." 
 And what better in principle, though certainly a less 
 degree of its operation, is that regard to their appetite, 
 ease, or humour, which many indulge to the annoyance 
 of their neighbours, and which they indulge against the 
 remonstrances of those who suffer ? In short, that re- 
 gard to our comfort which leads us to neglect or sacri- 
 fice the felicity of another, let the object to which it 
 is directed be what it may, is the selfishness which kind- 
 ness opposes and destroys. 
 
 This hateful disposition has contrived to conceal it- 
 self under many false names and disguises, and thus to 
 find protection from much of the obloquy which it de- 
 serves, and which would otherwise be more unsparing- 
 ly heaped upon it. 
 
 The plea of frugality, or a just regard to the claims 
 of a family, has often been urged as an excuse for the 
 
 selfishness of avarice. A man certainly must take care 
 
 r*
 
 125 
 
 of his own, but not to the injury, or even to the neglect, 
 of all besides. " I have no more," it is often said, " than 
 I want for my style of living ; and that style I think 
 necessary for my rank in life. I spend all I get upon 
 my family, and hoard nothing ; how, then, can I be 
 selfish ]" Mistaken mortal ! do you forget that a man's 
 family, is himself multiplied himself reflected. Selfish ! 
 yes, you are detestably so, if you spend all upon your- 
 self and family, however lavish and unsparing you may 
 be to them. 
 
 No expression, no sentiment, has ever been more 
 abused than that of the apostle " Do all to the glory 
 of God" It* has been employed to disguise the most 
 improper motives, and never more frequently, nor more 
 profanely employed, than when it has been used to 
 give a character of religious zeal to actions which every 
 eye could discern originated in an unmixed selfishness. 
 It is to be feared, that when the secrets of all hearts shall 
 be disclosed, it will be found that, while much has been 
 professedly done for the glory of God in the affairs of 
 religion, pure zeal for God's glory is a very rare thing. 
 Certain it is, that much of what has been carried on 
 under the authority of this truly sublime phrase, has 
 emanated from a far less hallowed principle. The Gos- 
 pel has been preached by ministers ; places of worship 
 have been built by hearers ; distant lands have been 
 visited by missionaries : yea, imprisonment and death 
 may have been sought by martyrs, in some cases, not 
 from pure zeal for God's glory, but under the influ- 
 ence of selfishness. All sorts of artful practices have 
 been supported, all kinds of stormy passions have beeji 
 indulged, all kinds of injuries have been inflicted, un- 
 der the pretence of glorifying God ; but which, in fact, 
 are to be ascribed to this disposition. When a man is 
 identified with a party, that party is himself, and what 
 he does for the one, he does for the other. 
 
 The same remarks will apply to many of those ac- 
 tions which are performed on the professed ground of 
 regard for the public good. Pure patriotism is a scarce 
 virtue, and is found but rarely in the breasts of those 
 12*
 
 126 
 
 who are loudest in their praises and professions of it. 
 Many a noisy and self-eulogized patriot many a zeal- 
 ous supporter of public institutions many an active 
 reformer of popular errors many a liberal contributor 
 to humane or religious societies could their motives 
 be exposed, would be found to act from no higher aims 
 than to get a name for themselves, and to be praised 
 by their fellow creatures. 
 
 Some indulge this disposition under the pretext of 
 regard for the truth. Attaching an overweening im- 
 portance to their own opinions, as if they possessed the 
 attribute of infallibility, overbearing in debate, impatient 
 of contradiction, determined to crush the -opinions and 
 resist the influence of those who are opposed to theirs, 
 they quiet their conscience, and silence the voice of re- 
 monstrance, with the plea that their vehemence is pure 
 zeal for the interests of truth. They should be less 
 anxious, they say, if it were their personal interest at 
 stake ; but they have a right to be earnest, yea, even 
 contentious, in defence of the faith. But they know 
 not themselves, or they would discern that their con- 
 duct springs from a proud, imperious, and selfish spirit. 
 
 It is time to contemplate the evil of selfishness. It 
 is a direct opposition to the divine benevolence, and is 
 contrary to the habitual temperof our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 " who pleased not himself." It is the cause of all sin, 
 the opposite of all holiness and virtue ; is the source of 
 innumerable other sins, and is placed by the apostle 
 as the head and leader of the eighteen vices which he 
 enumerates as the marks of perilous times, " Men shall 
 be lovers of themselves." This was the sin which in- 
 troduced all guilt and misery into the world ; for the 
 first transgression, by which Adam fell from innocence, 
 and by which his posterity fell with him, was an effort 
 to raise himself into a state of independence ; by selfish- 
 ness, he laid the world under the burden of the divine 
 condemnation. It is a rejection of all the claims, and 
 an opposition to all the ends and interests, of society ; 
 for if all persons were under the influence of predomi- 
 nant selfishness, society could scarcely exist ; let each
 
 one covet and grasp his own, to the injury or neglect of 
 the rest, and the world becomes a den of wild beasts, 
 where each ravins for his prey, and all worry one 
 another. This disposition defeats its own end. God 
 has endowed us with social affections, in the indulgence 
 of which there is real pleasure : the exercise of kind- 
 ness and the enjoyment of delight are inseparable. " If 
 there be any comfort of love," says the apostle : by 
 which he implied, in the strongest manner, that there is 
 great comfort in it ; and, of course, in proportion as we 
 extend the range and multiply the objects of our love, 
 we extend the range and multiply the sources of our 
 happiness. He that loves only himself, has only one 
 joy ; he that loves his neighbours, has many. To re- 
 joice in the happiness of others, is to make it our own ; 
 to produce it, is to make it more than our own. Lord 
 Bacon has justly remarked, that our sorrows are les- 
 sened, and our felicities multiplied, by communication. 
 Mankind had been labouring for ages under the gross- 
 est mistake as to happiness, imagining that it arose from 
 receiving ; an error which our Lord corrects, by say- 
 ing, " That it is more blessed to give, than to receive." 
 A selfish man who accumulates property, but diffuses 
 not, resembles not the perennial fountain, sending forth 
 fertilizing streams ; but the stagnant pool, into which, 
 whatever flows remains there, and whatever remains, 
 corrupts : miser is his name, and miserable he is in dis- 
 position. Selfishness often brings a terrible retribution 
 in this world : the tears of its wretched subject fall un- 
 pitied ; and he finds, in the gloomy hour of his want or 
 his wo, that he who determines to be alone in his ful- 
 ness, will generally be left to himself in his sorrows : 
 and that he who, in the days of his prosperity, drives 
 every one from him by the unkindness of his disposition, 
 will find, in the season of his adversity, that they are 
 too far off to hear his cries for assistance. 
 
 This is not an incurable temper : but it is a disease 
 that requires immediate and diligent attention. Where 
 it not only exists but predominates, the spring of human 
 action must be renewed by regeneration, and we must
 
 128 
 
 have that new heart, which is brought to love God su- 
 premely, and our neighbour as ourselves. We must 
 meditate often upon the deep criminality of this disposi- 
 tion, and look upon it in all its deformity, till we hate it : 
 being careful, in order to this, to strip it of all the dis- 
 guises which the deceitfulness of the heart has thrown 
 over it. We must abound in contemplation of the cha- 
 racter of God, as infinite in love, and of Jesus Christ as 
 an incarnation of pure disinterested affection. We must 
 exercise great mortification, labouring to the uttermost 
 to subdue, and if possible to eradicate, this vile disposi- 
 tion ; and repeating this again and again, till we begin 
 to taste the pleasure, and to feel the habit, of kindness : 
 at the same time praying earnestly for the help of the 
 Holy Spirit, to assist us in the mighty work of vanquish- 
 ing a selfish temper.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE UNSUSPICIOUSNESS OF LOVE. 
 
 " Charity thinketh no evil." 
 
 THERE are two senses which may be attached to 
 this beautiful description of love. 
 
 I. It does not devise evil. What a horrible demon- 
 like disposition has the Psalmist ascribed to the indi- 
 vidual who has no fear of God before his eyfes ! " He 
 hath left off to be wise and to do good ; he deviseth 
 mischief upon his bed." Such is the delineation given 
 by the inspired writer of the character of some wretch- 
 ed men ; and the original is often to be found, They 
 are perpetually scheming to do injury ; even their hours 
 of rest are devoted to the impulses of a wicked heart, 
 and they sleep hot except they have done mischief. 
 Instead of communing with God upon their bed, this is 
 to commune with the devil, and to hold nightly con- 
 ference with him who goeth about as a roaring lion 
 seeking whom he may Devour, But without going to 
 the extent of those who live by plunder, extortion, or 
 oppression, and who, as the wolves and tigers of society 
 are ever prowling about for their prey, there are many 
 who maintain a tolerably respectable character, but are 
 still far too busy in devising evil : this may arise from
 
 130 
 
 . 
 
 various motives, to all of which Christian love stands 
 firmly opposed. 
 
 Desire of gain may lead them to devise means by 
 which they may injure a more prosperous neighbour, a 
 more thriving tradesman, than themselves. They can- 
 not endure to witness his success, and leave no effort 
 untried to hinder it. They are inventive in the way of 
 insinuation, inuendo, or explicit declaration, to check 
 the tide of his good fortune, and are ever scheming to 
 circumvent and injure him. Or they may be moved 
 by envy, to devise means for blasting the reputation of a 
 popular rival, or at least to render him less a favourite 
 with the public. Revenge is ever busy in laying plans 
 to injure its object ; it broods in wrathful silence over 
 the real or supposed injury, and looks round on every 
 side for the opportunity and the means of full retaliation. 
 A love of sporting with the fears of the timid and the weak 
 has led some to delight in finding means for exciting 
 their alarms : they do not desire to inflict pain so much 
 from a malignity of disposition as from a wanton plea- 
 sure in raising a joke. Such jests as occasion distress, 
 are, whatever may be pretended by their authors, a 
 kind of devil's play, who can never relax from the work 
 of tormenting, except it be to occasion lighter pains, 
 and whose very sport is the infliction of misery. It is 
 dreadful that the human intellect should ever be em- 
 ployed in devising evil : and yet, passing by the cabinets 
 of statesmen, where hostile and unprincipled aggres- 
 sions are so often planned against a weaker state ; and 
 the closets of monarchs, where schemes which are to 
 entail the horrors of war upon millions are contrived 
 without compunction ; and the slave-merchant's cabin, 
 where the details are arranged for burning peaceful vil- 
 lages, and dragging into captivity their unoffending in- 
 habitants ; and the robber's cave, the murderer's cham- 
 ber, and the swindler's retreat; passing by these haunts 
 of demons, where the master-spirits of mischief hold 
 their conclave, and digest their dark and horrid purpo- 
 ses ; what a prodigious movement of mind is perpetu- 
 ally going on among the subalterns ! What a frightful
 
 131 
 
 portion of every day's employment of the mental and 
 bodily energies, all over the glohe, is seen by the eye 
 of Omniscience, directed by the parent of evil, who is 
 ever going about to do evil ; so that a great part of 
 mankind seem to have no other prototype but the scor- 
 which John saw rising out of the bottomless pit, 
 
 armed both with teeth and stings ! 
 
 To all these persons, and to all this their conduct, 
 love is diametrically opposed. It thinketh not evil, but 
 good ; it deviseth to communicate pleasure, not pain. 
 It shrinks back with instinctive abhorrence from inflict- 
 ing a moment's suffering, in body or in mind. " Love 
 worketh no ill to its neighbour," but employs all its 
 counsels and its cares for his benefit. Like a good 
 spirit, it is ever opposing the advice, and counteracting 
 the influence, of envy, revenge, or avarice. It would 
 make the miserable happy, and the happy still happier. 
 It retires into the closet, to project schemes for blessing 
 mankind, and then goes out into the crowded regions 
 of want and wretchedness, to execute them : it deviseth 
 good on its bed, and riseth in the morning to fulfil the 
 plans of mercy with which it had sunk to rest. " Love 
 thinketh- no evil." 
 
 II. But probably the apostle meant, that it does not 
 impute evil. Lovely charity ! the farther we go, the 
 more we discover thy charms : thy beaut}' is such, 
 that it is seen the more, the more closely it is inspect- 
 ed ; and thy excellence such, that it never ceases to 
 grow upon acquaintance. Thou art not in haste to 
 criminate as if it were thy delight to prove men wicked : 
 but art willing to impute a good motive to men's ac- 
 tions, till a bad one is clearly demonstrated. 
 
 It is proper, however, to remark here, that love is 
 not quite blind : it is not, as we have already said, vir- 
 tue in its dotage having lost its power of discrimina- 
 tion between good and evil ; nor is it holiness in its 
 childhood, which, with puerile simplicity, believes every 
 thing that is told it, and that is imposed upon by every 
 pretender. No ; it is moral excellence in the maturity 
 of all its faculties in the possession of all its manly
 
 132 
 
 strength. Like the judge upon the bench, penetrating 
 yet not censorious, holding the balance with an even 
 hand, acting as counsel for the prisoner, rather leaning 
 to the side of the accused than to that of the accuser, 
 and holding him innocent till he is proved to be gui^^ 
 There are some persons of a peculiarly suspicious 
 temper, who look with a distrustful eye upon every 
 body and upon every action. It would seem as if the 
 world were in a conspiracy against them, and that eve- 
 ry one who approached them came with a purpose of 
 mischief. They invert the proper order of things ; 
 and instead of imputing a good motive till a bad one is 
 proved, impute a bad one till a good one is made appa- 
 rent ; and so extremely skeptical are they on the sub- 
 ject of moral evidence, that what comes with the force 
 of demonstration to the rest of mankind, in the way of 
 establishing the propriety of an action, scarcely amounts, 
 in their view, to probability. Those who suspect eve- 
 ry body, are generally to be suspected themselves. 
 Their knowledge of human nature has been obtained 
 at home, and their fears in reference to their neighbours 
 are the reflected images of their own disposition. But 
 without going to this length, we are all too apt to impute 
 evil to others. 
 
 1 . We are too forward to suspect the piety of our 
 neighbours, and to ascribe, if not direct hypocrisy, yet 
 ignorance, or presumption, as the ground of their pro- 
 fession. Upon some very questionable, or imperfect 
 evidence upon some casual expression, or some 
 doubtful action we pronounce an individual to be a 
 self-deceiver or a hypocrite. There is far too much 
 proneness to this in the religious world ; too much 
 haste in excluding each other from the body of Christ; 
 too much precipitancy in cutting each other off from ' 
 the immunities of the Christian church. To decide 
 infallibly UJKMI character, is not only the prerogative of 
 the Deity, but requires his attributes. There may be 
 some grains of wheat hid among the chaff, which we 
 may be at a loss to discover. We must be careful how 
 we set up our views or our experience, as the test of
 
 133 
 
 character, so as to condemn all who do not come up 
 to our standard. It is a fearful thing- to unchristianize 
 any one, and it should be done only upon the clearest 
 evidence of his being in an unconverted state. With- 
 out being accused with lax or latitudinarian views, I 
 may observe that we should make great allowance for 
 the force of education, for peculiar habits acquired in 
 circumstances different from our own, and for a phrase- 
 ology learnt among those whose views are but imper- 
 fect. To impute to a professor of religion the sin of 
 hypocrisy, or mere formality, and to deny the reality of 
 his religion altogether, is too serious a thing for such 
 short-sighted creatures as we are, except in cases which 
 are absolutely indisputable. 
 
 2. We are too prone to impute bad motives in refer- 
 ence to particular actions. Sometimes, where the action 
 is good, we ascribe it to some sinister or selfish induce- 
 ment operating in the mind of him by whom it is per- 
 formed. This is not unfrequently done where we have 
 no contention with the individual, and the imputation is 
 merely the effect of envy ; but it is more frequently done 
 in cases where we have personal dislike. When the 
 action is of a doubtful nature, how apt are we to lose 
 sight of all the evidence which may be advanced in fa- 
 vour of its being done from a good motive, and with far 
 less probability decide that the motive is bad. If we 
 are the object of the action, we too commonly conclude 
 instantly, and almost against evidence, that a bad mo- 
 tive dictated it. Although the circumstance is at worst 
 equivocal, and admits of a two-fold interpretation, we 
 promptly determine that an insult or an injury was in- 
 tended, when every ojie but ourselves clearly discerns 
 that no such design can be fairly imputed. A person 
 passes us in the street without speaking, and we imme- 
 diately believe that it was an act of intentional insult 
 forgetting that it is probable he did not see us, or was 
 so immersed in thought as not to recognize us. A 
 general remark is made in conversation, which we sup- 
 pose with no other evidence than its applicability to us, 
 was intended to expose us before the company, when, 
 
 13
 
 perhaps the individual who made it had no more refer- 
 ence to us than to a man on the other side of the globe. 
 A thousand cases might be mentioned, and in which, 
 of two motives that may be imputed, we choose 
 the evil one. If a person has previously injured us, 
 we are peculiarly propense to this unchristian practice 
 of thinking evil of him. We can scarcely allow our- 
 selves to believe that he can do any thing relating to us, 
 but from an improper inducement ; we suspect all his 
 words and all his actions ; nor is the propensity less 
 strong in those cases where we have been the aggres- 
 sors ; we then set down everything done by the injured 
 person to the influence of revenge. 
 
 The evil of such a disposition is manifest. It is 
 explicitly and frequently prohibited in God's Word. This 
 is the censoriousness forbidden by our Lord, where he 
 says, "Judge not, that ye be not judged ;" and which 
 is condemned by Paul, where he says, " Judge nothing 
 before the time until the Lord come, who will both 
 bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will 
 make manifest the counsels of the hearts." James 
 commands us " Not to speak evil one of another ; for 
 he that speaketh evil of his brother, judgeth his bro- 
 ther." " Evil surmisings" are placed by the Apostle 
 among the sins which oppose the words of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 It is an invasion of the prerogative of Deity, who 
 alone can search the heart, and read the motives of the 
 breast. It is injurious to the character of our brethren, 
 and disturbs the peace of society. Half of the broils 
 which arise in the world, and of the schisms which 
 spring up in the church, may be traced to this wicked 
 propensity of " thinking evil ;" for if men think evil, it 
 is an easy step to speak evil, and then to do evil : so 
 that the origin of many quarrels will be found in the 
 false impressions of a suspicious mind the misappre- 
 hension of a censorious judgment. It is a disposition 
 wliich our own observation and experience are quite sujji- 
 cient, if we would be guided by them, to correct. How 
 often, how very often, have we found ourselves mista-
 
 135 
 
 ken in this matter ! How frequently has subsequent 
 evidence shown us our error in imputing a bad motive 
 to an action, which, at the time, to say the worst of it, 
 was only of a doubtful character ! We have discovered 
 that, to have originated in accident, which we once 
 thought to have been the result of design ; and have 
 found that, to have procee^.id from ignorance, which 
 we had hastily set down to malice. How many times 
 have we blushed and grieved over our precipitancy, and 
 yet, in opposition to our experience and to our resolu- 
 tions, we still go on to think evil. 
 
 But " love thinketh no evil :" this divine virtue de- 
 lights to speak well and think well of others : she talks 
 of their good actions, and says little or nothing, except 
 when necessity compels her, of their bad ones. She 
 holds her judgment in abeyance as to motives, till they 
 are perfectly apparent. She does not look round for 
 evidence to prove an evil design, but hopes that what 
 is doubtful will, -by farther light, appear to be correct ; 
 she imputes not evil, so long as good is probable ; she 
 leans to the side of candour rather than to that of se- 
 verity ; she makes every allowance that truth will per- . 
 mit ; looks at all the circumstances which can be plead- 
 ed in mitigation ; suffers not her opinions to be formed 
 till she has had opportunity to escape from the mist of 
 passion, and to cool from the wrath of contention. 
 Love desires the happiness of others ; and how can 
 she be in haste to think evil of them 1 
 
 If it be asked, Do all good men act thus 1 I again 
 reply, They act thus just in proportion as they are un- 
 der the influence of Christian charity. The Apostle 
 does not say that every man who is possessed of cha- 
 rity does so, but that charity itself thinketh no evil ; and 
 therefore implies that every good man will act thus in 
 the same degree in which he submits to the influence of 
 this virtue. Divine grace ! hasten thy universal reign 
 on earth, and put an end to those evil surmisings by 
 which the comfort of mankind and the fellowship of the 
 saints are so much disturbed !
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE JOY OF LOVE. 
 
 " Charity rcjoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiccth in the truth." 
 
 KEEPING up the personification of love as presented 
 by the Apostle, we may observe that it has its joys and 
 its sorrows ; and its smiles and its tears are the expres- 
 sions of good will the tokens of benevolence. We 
 are first told in what it does not take complacency " It 
 rejoiceth not in iniquity." 
 
 Sin is, in itself, an evil of enormous magnitude. As 
 committed against a Being whom we are under infinite 
 obligation to love, and serve, and glorify, it must partake 
 of infinite degrees of demerit. It is a violation of that 
 law which, as an emanation from the perfection of the 
 Deity, is itself perfect, and well deserves the eulogium 
 pronounced upon it by the Apostle, when he declares 
 it to be " holy, and just, and good." As this is the rule 
 of government to the moral universe, and intended to 
 preserve its order, dependence, and harmony ; sin, by 
 opposing its authority, disturbs this order, breaks this 
 dependence, and seeks to introduce the reign of con- 
 fusion and misery. None, but the infinite mind, is com- 
 petent to calculate the mischief which is likely to be 
 produced by a single act of sin, if left to itself without 
 a remedy, or without a punishment. We have only to
 
 137 
 
 *4ft 
 
 see what sin has done, to judge of its most evil and hate- 
 ful nature. All the misery which either is or ever will 
 be on earth, or in hell, is the result of sin. It is the 
 greatest evil the only evil in the universe. It is the 
 opposite, and the enemy to God ; the contrast to all 
 that is pure and glorious in his divine attributes, and in- 
 effably beautiful perfections ; and, as such, it is that 
 which he cannot but hate with a perfect hatred. It is 
 not merely the opposite of his nature, but the opponent 
 of his government the rebel principle that disputes 
 with him for his seat of majesty and the dominion of 
 the universe, saying to him, " Thus far shalt thou go, 
 and no farther ;" seeking to cast him down from the 
 throne which he hath prepared in the heavens, and to 
 rise, with impious usurpation, into the holy place of the 
 high and lofty One. Sin would thus stop the fountain 
 of life and blessedness, by ending the reign of infinite 
 beneficence ; and is, therefore, the enemy of everything 
 that constitutes the felicity of the various orders of ra- 
 tional existence. The happiness of angels and arch- 
 angels, of cherubim and seraphim, and of the spirits 
 made perfect above, as well as of those who are renew- 
 ed by the grace of God on earth, arises from holiness ; 
 separate and apart from holiness, there can be no hap- 
 piness for an intellectual being. Now sin is the con- 
 trary of holiness, and thus the enemy of happiness. 
 How, then, can love delight in iniquity 1 If it wills the 
 felicity of rational beings, it must hate that which di- 
 rectly resists and extinguishes it. 
 
 And as it cannot delight in sin in the abstract, so 
 neither can it take pleasure in committing it: for who- 
 ever commits it, in so far approves of it, upholds its do- 
 minion, extends its reign, diffuses its mischief, and does 
 all he can to recommend it. If his transgression be a 
 common one, he gives the patronage of his example to 
 all of the same kind ; and if it be a new one, he be- 
 comes an inventor and propagator upon earth of a fresh 
 curse and tormentor. That many do delight in com- 
 mitting iniquity cannot be doubted ; they follow it with 
 greediness, and drink it in as the thirsty ox drinketh in 
 13*
 
 138 
 * 
 
 water. The Scripture speaks of the joys of fools, and 
 of the pleasures of sin. Horrid as is the association 
 between sin and gratification, it certainly exists. Some 
 men have gone so far as to be self-murderers, but who 
 ever took pleasure in the act of destroying themselves 1 
 Whoever drank the poison, as he would wine, with a 
 merry heart 1 ? Whoever dallied in sportive pleasure 
 with the pistol or the dagger, or wound the cord in jocu- 
 larity round his throat before he strangled himself with 
 it 1 Whoever went skipping with a light fantastic step 
 to the edge of the precipice, or the brink of the river, 
 from which he was about to plunge into eternity 1 And 
 yet sinners do all this, in reference to their souls. They 
 commit self-murder, the murder of their immortal spirits, 
 to the song of the drunkard, the noise of music, the 
 smile of a harlot, and the laugh of the fool. They sin, 
 and not only so, but delight in iniquity. So does not 
 charity. 
 
 Nor can it delight in the sins of others. It cannot do 
 as fools do, " make a mock of sin." It is most horrid 
 to find pastime and sport in those acts of transgression 
 by which men ruin their souls. Some laugh at the 
 reeling gait, and idiot looks, and maniac gestures, of the 
 drunkard, whom, perhaps, they have first led on to in- 
 toxication, to attbrd them merriment ; or they are divert- 
 ed by the oaths of the swearer, whose malice and re- 
 venge are at work to invent new formfe of profanity ; 
 or they are made merry by the mischief with which the 
 persecutors of the righteous often oppose and interrupt 
 the solemnity of worship ; or they attack, with raillery 
 and scorn, the tender consciences of the saints, and 
 loudly applaud the wit which aims its sharpened arrows 
 against religion. But love weeps over sin, as that which 
 brings the greatest misery. " For sin is the greatest 
 and highest infelicity of the creature, depraves the soul 
 within itself, vitiates its powers, deforms its beauty, ex- 
 tinguishes its light, corrupts its purity, darkens its glory, 
 disturbs its tranquillity and peace, violates its harmoni- 
 ous joyful state and order, and destroys its very life. It 
 disaffects it to God, severs it from him, engages his jus-
 
 139 
 
 ** * 
 
 tice and influences his wrath against it. What ! to re- 
 joice in sin, that despites the Creator, and hath wrought 
 such tragedies in the creation ! that turned angels out of 
 heaven, man out of paradise ! that hath made the bless- 
 ed God so much a stranger to our world ; broken off 
 the intercourse in so great a part, between heaven and 
 earth ; obstructed the pleasant commerce which had 
 otherwise probably been between angels and men ; so 
 vilely debased the nature of man, and provoked the dis- 
 pleasure of his Maker towards him ! that once over- 
 whelmed the world with a deluge of water, and will 
 again ruin it by a destructive fire ! To rejoice in so hate- 
 ful a thing as sin, is to do that mad part, to cast about 
 firebrands, arrows and death, and say, " Am I not in 
 sport 1" it is to be glad that such an one is turning a 
 man into a devil ! a reasonable, immortal soul, capable 
 of heaven, into a fiend of hell ! to be glad that such a 
 soul is tearing itself off from God, is blasting its own 
 eternal hopes, and destroying all its possibilities of a 
 future well being. Blessed God ! how opposite a thing 
 is this to charity the offspring of God ! The birth of 
 heaven, as it is here below, among mortals ; the beauty 
 and glory of it, as it is there above, in its natural seal. 
 The eternal bond of living union among the blessed 
 spirits that inhabit there, and which would make our 
 world, did it universally obtain here, another heaven."* 
 No : it is the sport of devils, not of men who feel the 
 influence of love, to delight in sin. We justly condemn 
 the cruelty of the Romans, in glutting their eyes with 
 the scenes of the amphitheatre, where the gladiators 
 were torn in pieces by the fangs of lions and tigers ; but 
 theirs was innocent recreation, compared with that of 
 the perverted and wicked mind, which can be gratified 
 by seeing an immortal creature ruining and damning his 
 most precious soul. Go, laugh at the agonies of the 
 wretched man tortured upon the rack, and make mer- 
 ry with his distorted features, and strange and hideous 
 cries ; go, laugh at the convulsive throes of the epi- 
 
 * Howe on " Charity in Reference to other Men's Sins."
 
 140 
 
 * 
 
 leptic ; go to the field of battle, and mock the groans 
 of the wounded and dying ; all this is more humane and 
 merciful than delighting in sin. Could we look down 
 upon the burning lake, and see there how the miserable 
 ghosts are tossed upon the billows of the burning deep, 
 and hear their dreadful exclamations, "Who can dwell 
 with devouring fire? Who can dwell with everlasting 
 burnings'?" should we, then, divert ourselves with sin'? 
 Charity does thus look upon their misery, so far as her 
 imagination goes, and feels a cold horror and a shiver- 
 ing dread. She mourns over sin wheresoever she sees 
 it, and weeps for those who never weep for themselves. 
 This is her declaration, as she looks around upon the 
 sins of mankind " Rivers of waters run down mine 
 eyes, because they keep not thy law." 
 
 Love cannot delight in the misconduct of an enemy or 
 a rival. This, perhaps, is the precise meaning of the 
 Apostle, in the expression we are now illustrating. 
 Few of us are without some one or more who are con- 
 sidered by us, or who consider themselves, in the cha- 
 racter of an opponent, or a competitor ; and in such 
 cases there is great dangerof our being pleased with their 
 moral failures. It is not often that any, except those 
 who are more than ordinarily depraved, will allow them- 
 selves to go so far as to tempt an enemy to sin, in order 
 to gain the advantage over him. Yet there are some 
 such, who will lay snares for his feet, and watch with 
 eager hope for his halting : and when unable to accom- 
 plish this by their own personal exertions, will not scru- 
 ple to engage accomplices in the work. Weaker and 
 junior agents, who probably may know nothing, or know 
 but little of the purpose for which they are employed, 
 may be drawn by the master-spirit of mischief into the 
 confederacy, and be made the instrument of tempting an 
 immortal creature to sin against God, and ruin his own 
 soul. This is the climax of revenge, the highest pitch 
 of wickedness, and the greatest refinement of human 
 malice. It is to extend the mischief of revenge to another 
 world ; to call in the aid of devils, and the quenchless 
 fire, to supply the defects of our ability to inflict misery
 
 141 
 
 in proportion to our wishes ; and to perpetuate our ill 
 will through eternity. To tempt men to sin against God, 
 with a view to serve ourselves by degrading them before 
 the world, unites much of the malevolence of a devil, 
 with as much of his ingenuity. 
 
 But if we cannot go to such a length as to tempt an 
 opponent or rival to sin, yet, if we feel a delight in see- 
 ing him fall by other means ; if we indulge a secret com- 
 placency in beholding him rendering himself vile, blast- 
 ing his reputation, destroying his popularity, and ruin- 
 ing his cause ; if we inwardly exclaim, " Ah ! so would 
 I have it now he has done for himself it is all over 
 with him this is just what I wished and wanted ;" 
 we delight in iniquity. And, oh, how inexpressibly 
 dreadful to be seen with a smiling countenance, or an 
 aspect which, if it relax not into a smile, is sufficiently 
 indicative of the joyful state of the heart, to run with 
 eagerness to proclaim the intelligence of the victory 
 we have gained by that act of another which endangers 
 his salvation : how contrary all this to the charity which 
 delights in happiness ! 
 
 Perhaps we only go so far as to be pleased that the 
 object of our dislike has been himself injured in a way si- 
 milar to that in which he has injured us. Although we 
 may not allow ourselves to inflict any direct injury in 
 the way of revenge, nor to engage others to do it for 
 us, yet if we see him ill treated by another person and 
 rejoice ; if we exclaim, " I do not pity him, he has de- 
 served it all for his behaviour to me, I am glad he has 
 been taught how to behave to his neighbour ;" this is 
 contrary to the law of love it is a complacency in sin. 
 Nor is the case altered, if our joy be professedly felt on 
 account of the consequences which the sin has brought 
 upon him. We may sometimes attempt to deceive our- 
 selves, by the supposition that we do not rejoice in the 
 iniquity that is committed, but only because it has been 
 succeeded by those fruits which the misconduct has me- 
 rited. We interpret it into a proof that God has taken 
 up the cause of injured innocence, and avenged us of 
 our adversary.
 
 142 
 
 There are many circumstances and situations which 
 more particularly expose us to the violation of this law 
 of charity. In the case of two different denominations 
 in religion, or two congregations of the same party in 
 a town, between whom a misunderstanding and schism 
 have been permitted to grow up and to operate, there 
 is imminent danger of this unchristian spirit. Alas, 
 alas ! that the bosoms of men should be liable to such 
 sentiments ! Oh ! shame, deep and lasting shame, upon 
 some professing Christians, " that such unhallowed 
 emotions should ever be excited in their bosoms !" 
 " Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of 
 Askelon, lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice 
 lest the daughters of the uncircumcised triumph." Let 
 it not be known that the bad passions of the human 
 heart build their nests, like obscure birds, round the 
 altar of the Lord ; or, like poisonous weeds, entwine 
 their baleful tendrils round the pillars of his house. 
 We do not mean to say, that any good man can rejoice 
 in the open immorality and vice of an opponent ; but 
 are there not many, in all large communities, who, 
 though of Israel in one sense, belong not to it in real- 
 ity ? And where the failure does not proceed to the 
 length of a more awful delinquency, but consists merely 
 of some minor breaches of the law of propriety, are 
 not even the best of men sometimes exposed to the 
 temptation of rejoicing over them, if their cause is pro- 
 moted by them ? The weaker party, especially, if they 
 have been ill used, treated with pride and scorn, op- 
 pression and cruelty, are very apt to take delight in those 
 instances of misconduct by which their opponents have 
 brought upon themselves the prejudice of the public. 
 
 Rival candidates for fame, or power, or influence, 
 whether in ecclesiastical or secular affairs, are liable to 
 the sin of rejoicing in iniquity. Hard, indeed, is it for 
 such hearts as ours to repress all feelings of secret com- 
 placency in those acts of a competitor by which he 
 sinks, and we are raised, in public esteem. That man 
 gives himself credit for more virtue than he really pos-
 
 143 
 
 sesses, who imagines he should find it easy to weep over 
 the follies and miscarriages of the rival who contends 
 with him for what it is of much importance he should 
 obtain, or of an enemy who has deeply injured him. 
 Job mentions it as a convincing proof of his integrity, 
 and a striking display of good conduct : " If I re- 
 joiced in the destruction of him that hated me, or lifted 
 up myself when evil found him." And it was a fine 
 manifestation of the generosity of David, that instead 
 of rejoicing over those sins which, in the conduct of 
 Saul, brought on the catastrophe that elevated him to 
 the throne of Israel, he bewailed them with as sincere 
 and pungent grief, as he could have done had Saul been 
 the kindest of fathers. That we are in danger of the 
 sin we are now considering, is also evident from the ex- 
 hortation of Solomon " Rejoice not when thine ene- 
 my falleth, and let not thine heart be glad when he 
 stumbleth." Charity, if it had full possession of our 
 hearts, and entire sway, would not only repress all out- 
 ward exhibitions of this delight, but all inward emo- 
 tions ; would make us dread lest an opponent should 
 fall into sin ; would not allow us to see him go unwarn- 
 ed to transgression, but compel us to admonish him of 
 his danger ; and would make us cheerfully forego the 
 greatest advantage to our cause or reputation, that we 
 might gain by his misconduct. This is the holiness of 
 love, and the proof of a genuine hatred of. sin ; for if 
 we mourn only over our own sins, or the sins of our 
 friends, or of our party, there may be something selfish 
 in our grief after all ; but to mourn over iniquity, when, 
 though it does harm to another, it may, in some sense, 
 promote our cause, is, indeed, to hate sin for its own 
 sake, and for the sake of him by whom it is con- 
 demned. 
 
 We go on now to show in what love does rejoice : 
 " Charity rejoiceth in the truth." 
 
 By the truth we are not to understand veracity as 
 opposed to falsehood. The Apostle is not speaking of 
 this subject. The truth means the doctrine of the
 
 144 
 
 Word of God. This is a very common way of de- 
 scribing the revealed will of God in the Scriptures. 
 " Sanctify them by thy truth" said our Lord ; " thy 
 word is truth." The truth itself is the object of com- 
 placency to love. Truth is the most glorious thing in 
 the universe, next to God and holiness. It has been 
 the great object of mental pursuits since the creation 
 of the world ; millions of minds have travelled in quest 
 of it ; philosophers profess to be so enamoured even 
 with the very term, that they have worshipped it as a 
 mere abstraction, which, after all they could not under- 
 stand. What contentions has it originated to what 
 systems has it given rise what dogmatism has it been 
 the occasion of! And yet, after all, apart from revela- 
 tion, what is it but a name 1 This gives it reality and 
 form ; this tells us where it is, what it is, and how it is 
 to be obtained. Here we learn that the glorious Gos- 
 pel of the blessed God, and all the doctrines it includes 
 or implies, is THE TRUTH. The question is answered, 
 proposed by Pilate to the illustrious prisoner at his bar, 
 and the oracle of heaven has declared that the Scrip- 
 tures are the truths. And the truth is the object of com- 
 placency to charity ; the bright star, yea, the full-orbed 
 sun, that enlightens its eye, and points out the rest- 
 ing-place of its heart. And it can rejoice in no- 
 thing else. Falsehood and error, and the devices of 
 the human mind, are the objects of its disgust and ab- 
 horrence. It is evident, then, as we have already 
 shown, that love differs essentially from that vague kind 
 of charity which is so much cried up at present, both 
 without and within the pale of the Church ; which 
 scorns to proceed upon the Scripture ground of the 
 truth and its genuine influence ; reviling as narrow- 
 mindedness, and an uncharitable party spirit, all regard 
 to particular doctrines ; but extends its indiscriminate 
 embrace, and pays its idle and unmeaning compliments 
 to all persons, of whatever denomination or persua- 
 sion, presuming that they are all serious and mean well, 
 however much they differ from each other, or from the
 
 145 
 
 Scripture, in sentiment or in practice. One" of the max- 
 ims of this spurious candour, as we have already con- 
 sidered, is, that there is no moral turpitude in mental 
 error ; and that everything is non-essential which does 
 not relate to the interests of morality. How widely 
 this counterfeit liberality differs from the apostolic char- 
 ity, is evident from the fact which we are now consid- 
 ering, and hy which we are told that love delights in the 
 truth. For the truth it will be zealous, as for an object 
 dearer than life itself ; to this it will be ready to set the 
 seal of blood, and not resign or betray it through fear 
 of the gloom of the captive's dungeon, or dread of the 
 martyr's stake. This is its joy in life its support in 
 death : this is the dear companion of its pilgrimage on 
 earth, and its eternal associate in the felicities of heaven. 
 But as the truth is here opposed to iniquity, the 
 Apostle especially intended to state that holiness is the 
 object of complacency to charity. Holiness is the ra- 
 tional and appropriate effect of the truth believed. No 
 man can receive the truth in the love of it, without bring- 
 ing forth the fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus 
 Christ unto the glory of God. It is the delight of this 
 pure and heavenly grace to contemplate holiness wher- 
 ever it is to be found. Ascending to the celestial 
 world, it joins the choirs of the cherubim, to look upon 
 the spotless One, and with them to give utterance to its 
 ecstacies, in the short but sublime anthem, " Holy, holy, 
 holy, is the Lord God Almighty." Undismayed by the 
 roar of thunder, and the sound of the trumpet, and the 
 voice of words ; by the thick darkness, and the vivid 
 lightnings, and the agitation of the quaking earth ; it 
 ventures near the base of Sinai, and, for the delight 
 that it has in holiness, rejoices in the law which is the 
 rule of righteousness. The angels are pleasant to be- 
 hold, because they are clad in garments of unsullied 
 purity ; and the crown of glory which Adam wore be- 
 fore his fall was his innocence ; and the deep degra- 
 dation into which he fell by his apostacy, was loss of 
 holiness, in which consisted the image of God. The 
 
 14
 
 146 . 
 
 ceremonial law has an excellence in the eye of charity, 
 beeause it teaches the value of holiness in the view of 
 God, and the necessity of it for man. The prophetic 
 visions are all delighted in, because they are distinguish- 
 ed by the beauties of holiness ; and the whole Gospel 
 of Jesus is dear to the heart of love, because it is in- 
 tended to purify unto Christ a Church, which he will 
 present to the Father without spot, wrinkle, or blemish. 
 Men are esteemed and loved on earth as they have this 
 moral excellence enstamped upon their souls ; and in 
 looking for a heaven which shall satisfy all its desires, it 
 can think of nothing higher and better than a state of 
 sinless purity. 
 
 So ardent and so uniform is charity's regard to holi- 
 ness, that it rejoices in it when it is found in an enemy or 
 a rival. Yes ; if we are under the influence of this di- 
 vine virtue as we ought to be, we shall desire, and desire 
 very fervently too, that those who have displeased or in- 
 jured us were better than they are. We shall wish to 
 see every speck of imperfection gone from their con- 
 duct, and their whole character standing out to the ad- 
 miration of the world, and receiving the approbation of 
 those by whom they are now condemned. We shall be 
 willing to do any thing by which they may conciliate to 
 themselves the favour of the alienated multitude, and 
 also raise themselves to the vantage ground on which 
 their misconduct has placed us above them. This, is 
 charity, to rejoice in those moral excellences, and gaze 
 upon them with gratitude and complacency, which in- 
 vest the character of one that opposes us with loveliness 
 and beauty, and by which his cause is promoted, in 
 some degree, to the detriment of ours. Men of little 
 virtue may sometimes join from policy in those com- 
 mendations of another's goodness, the justice of which 
 they cannot dispute, and the harmony of which they 
 dare not disturb ; but it is only the Christian, who is far 
 advanced in the practice of all that is difficult in religion, 
 who can secretly rejoice, without envy or jealousy, in 
 those very virtues which draw away the public attention
 
 147 
 
 from himself, and cause him and his party to pass into 
 eclipse and to sink into shadow. " O Charity ! this is 
 thy work, and this thy glory ; a work too rarely per- 
 formed a glory too rarely seen in this region of self- 
 ishness, in this world of imperfection ; where, of the 
 multitudes that profess to submit to thy sway, there are 
 still so few who are really governed by thy laws, and in- 
 spired by thine influence.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE CANDOUR OF LOVE. 
 
 " Charily beareth all things." 
 
 SOME writers consider this verse as an amplification 
 of the foregoing one, and explain it, in reference to the 
 truth, in the following manner : " It beareth all things" 
 reported in the truth, however opposed to the corrup- 
 tion of human nature, and counts none of them hard 
 sayings or unfit to be borne ; " it believeth all things" 
 imported in the great truth, or all the inferences which 
 the Apostles have deduced from it, as being well affec- 
 ted to the source from whence they flow ; " hopeth for 
 all things" promised in it, and " endureth all things ;" 
 or patiently suffers all the afflictions that can attend a 
 steady attachment to it. This gives a very good sense 
 of the words, and admits the full force of the universal 
 expressions. Yet it certainly agrees better with the 
 scope of the Apostle, to understand the verse with refer- 
 ence to the brethren as the objects of it. 
 
 If we render the first expression, and which we are 
 now about to consider, as our translators have done, it 
 may signify our bearing one another's burdens and
 
 149 
 
 weaknesses, which is to fulfil the law of Christ : and it 
 must be confessed this is strictly true ; for whoever is 
 under the influence of this principle, will possess a spirit 
 of tender sympathy. In this world we all groan, being 
 burdened. Each has his own load of care, or grief, or 
 imperfection. This is not the state where we find per- 
 fect rest. How wide is the scope, how frequent the op- 
 portunity, how numerous the occasions, for sympathy ! 
 And, who that is possessed of benevolence, can allow 
 himself to pass a brother upon the road, labouring under 
 a heavier load than his own, without offering to bear a 
 part 1 We are not to be impertinently officious and in- 
 termeddling, nor to pry into the secrets of our neigh- 
 bours with an inquisitive curiosity ; but to inquire into 
 the cause which gives them so much solicitude or so 
 much grief, is the duty of those who are the witnesses of 
 their careworn countenance and downcast look. What 
 an unfeeling heart must that man have, who can see the 
 very form of care and sorrow before him, and never 
 kindly ask the reason of its existence 1 It is but little that 
 sympathy can do for the sufferer, but that little should 
 be most cheerfully afforded. To be unnoticed and un- 
 pitied in our griefs, adds greatly to their weight. For 
 what purpose are Christians collected into churches *? 
 not merely to eat the Lord's Supper together : this could 
 be done without any such distinct recognition of a mu- 
 tual relationship, as that which takes place in the fellow- 
 ship of believers. The end and design of this bond is, 
 that being united as one body, the members might che- 
 rish a general sympathy for each other, and exercise 
 their benevolence in the way of mutual assistance. The 
 rich, by their munificence, should help their poorer 
 brethren to bear the burden of poverty ; the strong 
 should aid the weak to bear the burden of their fears 
 and apprehensions ; those who are in health and ease 
 should, by seasonable visits, and soothing words, and 
 kind offices, bear the burdens of the sick; counsel 
 should always be given, when it is sought by those who 
 are in difficulty ; and a disposition should pervade the 
 U*
 
 150 
 
 whole body, to render its varied resources, talents, and 
 energies, available for the benefit of the whole. 
 
 But though this also gives a beautiful meaning, and 
 enjoins a necessary duty, it is not the right view of the 
 passage. The word translated " beareth" all things, 
 signifies also, " to contain, to conceal, to cover." The 
 idea of " bearing" is parallel in meaning with that of 
 " enduring," of which the Apostle speaks in the latter 
 part of the verse ; and it is not probable that it was his 
 intention to express the same thought twice. Adopting 
 " concealment" as the sentiment intended to be ex- 
 pressed and the failings of others as the object to which 
 it refers, I shall go on to show in what way it is prac- 
 tised. 
 
 To do this with still greater effect, we snail exhibit 
 a general view of those sins to which the view of Chris- 
 tian charity stands exposed ; and these are, slander, de- 
 traction, and rash judging, or censoriousness. 
 
 Perhaps there are no sins which are more frequently 
 alluded to, or more severely rebuked, in Scripture, than 
 those of the tongue ; and for this reason, because there 
 are none to which we are so frequently tempted none 
 we are so prone to indulge, or so bold to excuse none 
 which are so fruitful of disorder and discomfort to so- 
 ciety. Besides swearing, falsehood, obscenity, blasphe- 
 my, the Scripture speaks of bearing false witness, 
 railing, tale-bearing, whispering, backbiting, slander, 
 and reproach : a dismal enumeration of vices belong- 
 ing to that member which was intended to be the glory 
 of our frame. By SLANDER, we understand the circu- 
 lation of a false report with the intention of injuring a 
 neighbour's reputation. Its most vicious excess is the 
 invention and construction of a story which is absolutely 
 false from beginning to end. Its next lower grade, 
 though little inferior in criminality, is to become the pro- 
 pagator of the tale, knowing it to be false. " This," 
 says BARROW, " is to become the hucksters of counter- 
 feit wares, or factors in this vile trade. There is no 
 coiner who hath not emissaries and accomplices ready 
 to take from his hand and put off his money ; and such
 
 151 
 
 slanderers at second hand are scarcely less guilty than 
 the first authors. He that breweth lies may have more 
 wit and skill, but the broacher showeth the like malice 
 and wickedness. In this there is no great difference 
 between the great devil that frameth scandalous reports, 
 and the little imps that run about and disperse them." 
 The next operation of slander is to receive and spread, 
 without examining into the truth of them, false and inju- 
 rious reports. It is a part of a good man's character, 
 that " He taketh not up a reproach against his neigh- 
 bour ;." i. e. he does not easily entertain it, much less 
 propagate it ; he does not receive it but upon the most 
 convincing evidence : but slander founds reproachful 
 tales upon conjecture or suspicion, and raises an inju- 
 rious representation upon a suppositious foundation. 
 Sometimes it withers the reputation of a neighbour by 
 rash speaking, or vehemently affirming things which it 
 has no reason to believe, and no motive for affirming, 
 but the hope of exciting ill will. Slander is sinful, be- 
 cause forbidden in every part of Scripture ; cruel, be- 
 cause it is robbing our neighbour of that which is dearer 
 to him than fife ; and foolish, because it subjects the 
 calumniator himself to all kinds of inconvenience, for 
 it not only exposes him to the wrath of God, the loss of 
 his soul, and the miseries of hell in the world to come, 
 but it makes him odious in the present life, causes him 
 to be shunned and discredited, arms his conscience 
 against his own peace, brings upon himself the most re- 
 proachful accusations, and not unfrequently the ven- 
 geance of that public justice, which is rightly appointed 
 to be the guardian not only of property and life, but of 
 reputation also. 
 
 DETRACTION, or backbiting, differs a little from slan- 
 der, though, in its general nature and constitution, it 
 closely resembles it. Slander involveth an imputation 
 of falsehood ; but detraction may clothe itself with 
 truth : it is sweetened poison, served from a golden cup 
 by the hand of hypocrisy. A detractor's aim is the 
 same as the slanderer's to injure the reputation of an- 
 other ; but he avails himself of means that are a little
 
 152 
 
 different. He represents persons and actions under the 
 most disadvantageous circumstances he can, setting 
 forth those which may make them appear guilty or ri- 
 diculous, and throwing into the shade such as are com- 
 mendable. " When he cannot deny the metal to be 
 good and the stamp to be true, he clippeth it, and so re- 
 jecteth it from being current : he misconstrues doubt- 
 ful actions unfavourably, and throws over the very vir- 
 tues of his neighbours the name of faults, calling the 
 sober sour, the conscientious morose, the devout super- 
 stitious, the frugal sordid, the cheerful frivolous, and the 
 reserved crafty : he diminishes from the excellence of 
 good actions, by showing how much better they might 
 have been done ; and attempts to destroy all confidence 
 in long-established character, and all respect for it, by 
 pitching on some single act of imprudence, and ex- 
 panding it into a magnitude, and darkening it into a 
 shadow, which truth and justice forbid. Such is the 
 backbiter ; whose crime is compounded of the ingredi- 
 ents of ill humour, pride, selfishness, envy, malice, 
 falsehood, cowardice, and folly. Backbiting must be 
 peculiarly hateful to God : " He is the God of truth, 
 and therefore detesteth lying, of which detraction ever 
 hath a spice : He is the God of justice, and therefore 
 doth especially abhor wronging the best persons and 
 actions : He is the God of love, and therefore cannot 
 but loath this capital violation of charity : He is jealous 
 of his glory, and therefore cannot endure it to be abus- 
 ed by slurring his good gifts and graces : He cannot 
 but hate the offence which approacheth to that most 
 heinous and unpardonable sin, that consisteth in defam- 
 ing the excellent works performed by divine power and 
 goodness, ascribing them to bad -causes." 
 
 The same writer, in speaking of the mischief of de- 
 traction, as discouraging others from the performance 
 of that goodness which is thus vilified and defamed, has 
 the following beautiful remarks. Many, seeing the best 
 men thus disparaged, and the best actions vilified, are 
 disheartened and deterred from practising virtue, espe- 
 cially in a conspicuous and eminent degree :
 
 153 
 
 will many a man say, " shall I be strictly good, seeing 
 goodness is so liable to be misused 1 Had I not better 
 be contented with a mediocrity and obscurity of good- 
 ness, than by a glaring lustre thereof to draw the envi- 
 ous eye and kindle raging obloquy upon me ?" And 
 when the credit of virtue is blasted in its practices, many 
 will be diverted from it. So will it grow out of request, 
 and the world be corrupted by these agents of the EVIL 
 ONE. It were adviseable, upon this consideration, not 
 to seem ever to detract, even not then when we are as- 
 sured that, by speaking ill, we shall not really do it ; if 
 we should discover any man to seem worthy, or to be 
 so reputed, whom yet we discern, by standing in a 
 nearer light, not to be truly such, yet wisdom would 
 commonly dictate, and goodness dispose, not to mar his 
 repute. If we should observe, without danger of mis- 
 take, any plausible action to be performed out of bad 
 inclinations, principles, or designs, yet ordinarily in dis- 
 cretion and honesty, we should let it pass with such 
 commendation as its appearance may procure, rather 
 than slur it by venting our disadvantageous apprehen- 
 sions about it ; for it is no great harm that any man 
 should enjoy undeserved commendation; our granting 
 its claims is but being over just, which, if it ever be a 
 fault, can hardly be so in this case, wherein we do not 
 expend any cost or suffer any damage ; but it may do 
 mischief to blemish any appearance of virtue : it may 
 be a wrong thereto, to deface its very image ; the very 
 disclosing of hypocrisy doth inflict a wound on good- 
 ness, and exposeth it to scandal, for bad men will then 
 be prone to infer that all virtue doth proceed from the 
 like bad principles ; so the disgrace cast on that which is 
 spurious, will redound to the prejudice of that which is 
 most genuine. And if it be good to forbear detracting 
 from that which is certainly false, much more so in re- 
 gard to that which is possibly true ; and far more still is 
 it go in respect to that which is clear and sure. 
 
 CENSORIOUSNESS is another sin of the same class- 
 another child of the same family : varying, however, 
 from those we have already considered by acting not so
 
 154 
 
 much in the way of reporting faults as in condemning 
 them. It is different from slander, inasmuch as it as- 
 sumes, that what it condemns is true ; and from detrac- 
 tion, inasmuch as it is not exercised with an intention to 
 injure another in public estimation, but only to reprove 
 him for what is wrong. It assumes the' character, not 
 of a witness, but of a judge : hence the injunction, 
 " Judge not." Censoriousness, then, means a disposi- 
 tion to scrutinize men's motives to pass sentence upon 
 their conduct to reproach their faults, accompanied 
 by an unwillingness to make all reasonable allowances 
 for their mistakes, and a tendency to the side of severity 
 rather than to that of leniency. We are not to suppose 
 that all inspection and condemnation of the conduct of 
 others is sin ; nor that all reproof of offenders is a viola- 
 tion of the law of charity ; nor that we are to think well 
 of our neighbours, in opposition to the plainest evi- 
 dence ; nor that we are to entertain such a credulous 
 opinion of the excellence of mankind, as unsuspecting- 
 ly to confide in every man's pretences : but what we 
 condemn is needlessly inquiring into the conduct and 
 motives of other men ; examining and arraigning them 
 at our bar, when we stand in no relation to them that 
 requires such a scrutiny ; delivering our opinion when 
 it is not called for ; pronouncing sentence with undue 
 severity, and heaping the heaviest degree of reproach 
 upon an offender which we can find language to 
 express. 
 
 " The world is become so extremely critical and 
 censorious, that in many places the chief employment 
 of men, and the main body of conversation, is, if we 
 mark it, taken up in judging; every company is a court 
 of justice, every seat becometh a tribunal, at every ta- 
 ble standeth a bar, whereunto all men are cited 
 whereat every man, as it happeneth, is arraigned and 
 sentenced ; no sublimity or sacredness of dignity no 
 integrity or innocence of life no prudence or circum- 
 spection of demeanour, can exempt any person from 
 it. Not one escapes being taxed under some odious 
 name or scandalous character or other. Not only the
 
 155 
 
 outward actions and visible practices of men are judged* 
 but their retired sentiments are brought under review 
 their inward dispositions have a verdict passed upon 
 them their final states are determined. Whole bodies 
 of men are thus judged at once ; and nothing is it in 
 one breath to damn whole churches at one push, to 
 throw down whole nations into the bottomless pit : yea, 
 God himself is hardly spared, his providence coming 
 under the bolgl obloquy of those, who, as the Psalmist 
 speaketh of some in his time, whose race does yet sur- 
 vive, speak loftily, and set their mouth against the 
 heavens." Barrow, in order to censure this temper, 
 gives the following qualifications of a judge. He should 
 be appointed by competent authority, and not intrude him- 
 self into office. To how many censors may we say, 
 " Who made thee a judge 7" He should be free from aU, 
 prejudice and partiality. Is this the case with the cen- 
 sorious 1 He should never proceed to judgment, without a 
 careful examination of the case, so as well to understand it. 
 Let the private self-appointed judges remember this, 
 and act upon the principle of Solomon " He that 
 answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is a folly and 
 a shame to him." He should never pronounce sentence 
 but upon good grounds, after certain proof and full con- 
 viction. If this rule were observed, how many cen- 
 sures would be prevented. He will not meddle with 
 causes beyond the jurisdiction of his court. If this were 
 recollected and acted upon, the voice of unlawful cen- 
 sure would die away in silence ; for who are we, that 
 we should try the hearts and search the reins of men, 
 or judge another's servant 1 He never proceeds against 
 any man, without citing him to appear, either in person or 
 by his representative, and giving him an opportunity to de- 
 fend himself. When any one is censured in company, 
 there should always be found some generous mind, who 
 would propose that the accused should be sent for, and 
 the trial put off till he appeared. He must pronounce, 
 not according to private fancy ', but to public and established 
 laws. Is this the rule of the censorious 1 Is it not 
 rather their custom to make their own private opinion
 
 156 
 
 the law? He should be a person of great knowledge and 
 ability. What is the usual character of the private cen- 
 sors of human conduct 1 are they not persons of great 
 ignorance and few ideas, who, for want of something 
 else to say, or ability to say it, talk of their neighbours' 
 faults, a topic on which a child or a fool can be fluent ? 
 He is not an accuser ; and moreover is, by virtue of his 
 office, counsel for the accused. On the contrary, the 
 censorious are, generally, not only judges.but accusers, 
 and counsel against the culprits whom they have brought 
 to their bar. He should lean, as far as the public good 
 will allow to the side of mercy : but mercy has RO place 
 in the bosom of the censorious, and their very justice is 
 cruelty and oppression. He must himself be innocent. 
 Why is there not a voice heard in every company, when 
 the prisoner is arraigned, and the process of judgment 
 begins, saying " He that is without sin, let him cast the 
 first stone 1" He proceeds with solemnity and grief, and 
 slowness, to pass the sentence. But what indecent haste 
 and levity, not excepting joy, do we witness in those 
 who are given to the practice of censuring their neigh- 
 bours' conduct.* 
 
 Now, to all these sinful practices Christian love stands 
 directly opposed. It is a long time before it allows itself 
 to perceive the faults of others. Not more quick is instinct 
 in the bird, or beast, or fish, of prey, to discover its vic- 
 tim, than the detractor and the censorious are to des- 
 cry imperfections as soon as they appear in the conduct 
 of those around them. Their vision is quite telescopic, 
 to see objects of this kind at a distance, and they have 
 a miscroscopic power of inspection, to examine those 
 that are small and near : and, when looking at faults, 
 they always employ the highest magnifying power which 
 their instrument admits of; while for the purpose of 
 looking at those spots, which to the naked eye would 
 be lost amidst the surrounding glory, they carry a dark- 
 ened glass. They do not want to see virtues : no; all 
 that is fair, and good, and lovely, is passed over in quest 
 
 * Dr. Barrow's Sermons.
 
 157 
 
 of deformity and evil. But all this is utterly abhorrent 
 to the nature of love ; which, intent upon the well-bo 
 ing of mankind, and anxious for their happiness, is ever 
 looking out for the signs and the symptoms which be- 
 token that the sum of human felicity is perpetually in- 
 creasing. The eye of the Christian philanthropist is so 
 busily employed in searching for excellence, and so 
 fixed and so ravished by it when it is found, that it is 
 sure to pass over many things of a contrary nature, as 
 not included in the object of its inquiry : just as he 
 who is searching for gems is likely to pass by many 
 common stones unheeded ; or as he who is looking for 
 a particular star or constellation in the heavens, is not 
 likely to see the tapers which are near him upon earth. 
 Good men are his delight ; and to come at these, very 
 many of the evil generation are passed by : and there 
 is also a singular power of abstraction in his benevo- 
 lence, to separate, when looking at a mixed character, 
 the good from the evil, and, losing sight of the latter, 
 to concentrate its observation in the former. 
 
 And when love is obliged to admit the existence of 
 imperfections, it diminishes as much as possible their mag- 
 nitude, and hides them as much as is lawful from its own 
 notice. It takes no delight in looking at them, finds no 
 pleasure in keeping them before its attention, and por- 
 ing into them ; but turns away from them, as an un 
 pleasant object, as a delicate sense would from what- 
 ever is offensive. If we find an affinity between our 
 thoughts and the sins of which we are the spectators, 
 it is a plain proof that our benevolence is of a very 
 doubtful nature, or in a feeble state ; on the contrary, 
 if we involuntarily turn away our eyes from beholding 
 evil, and are conscious to ourselves of a strong revul- 
 sion, and an acute distress, when we cannot altogether 
 retire from the view of it, we possess an evidence that 
 we know much of that virtue which covereth all things. 
 If we are properly, as we ought to be, under the influ- 
 ence of love, we shall make all reasonable allowances 
 for those things which are wrong in the conduct of our 
 neighbour ; we shall, as we have already considered, 
 15
 
 158 
 
 not be forward to suspect evil ; but shall do everything 
 to lessen the heinousness of the action. This is what 
 is meant, when it is said that " Charity covers a multi- 
 tude of sins. Hatred stirreth up strifes, but love cover- 
 eth all sins." 
 
 It is the wish and the act of love, to conceal from the 
 public all the faults, which the good of the offender, and 
 the ends of public justice, do not require to be disclos- 
 ed. There are cases, in which to conceal offences, 
 whatever kindness it may be to one, would be unkind- 
 ness to many. If a person living in sin, has so far im- 
 posed upon a minister, as to induce him to propose him 
 for admission to the fellowship of the church, it is the 
 bounden duty of any individual, who knows the real 
 character of the candidate, to make it known to the 
 pastor ; and the same disclosure should be made in re- 
 ference to a person already in communion, who is ac- 
 tually living in sin : concealment in these cases is an in- 
 jury to the whole body of Christians. If a person is 
 likely to be injured in his temporal concerns, by repos- 
 ing confidence in one who is utterly unworthy of it, it 
 is the duty of those who are acquainted with the snare 
 to warn the destined victim of his danger. If any are 
 so far regardless of the peace of society and the laws 
 of the country, as to be engaged in great crimes against 
 both, concealment on the part of those who are aware 
 of the existence of such practices, is a participation in 
 the crime. As our love is to be universal, as well as 
 particular, it must never be exercised towards indivi- 
 duals in a way that is really opposed to the interests of 
 the community. 
 
 But where no other interest is concerned where no 
 claims demand a disclosure where no injury is done 
 by concealment, and no benefit is conferred by giving 
 publicity to a fault, there our duty is to cover it over 
 with the veil of secrecy, and maintain an unbroken si- 
 lence upon the subject. 
 
 Instead of this friendly and amiable reserve, how 
 different is the way in which many act ! No sooner 
 have they heard of the commission of a fault, than they
 
 159 
 
 set off with the intelligence, as glad as if .they bore the 
 tidings of a victory, proclaiming the melancholy fact 
 with strange delight in every company, and almost to 
 every individual they meet ; and as there is a greedy 
 appetite in some persons for scandal, they find many 
 ears as open to listen to the tale, as their lips are to tell 
 it : or, perhaps, they relate the matter as a secret, ex- 
 torting a promise from those to whom they communi- 
 cate it that they will never mention it again. But if it 
 be not proper to publish it to the world, why do they 
 speak of it at all 1 If it be proper for publicity, why 
 lock up others in silence 1 Sometimes the telling faults 
 in secret is a pitiable kind of weakness, an utter impos- 
 sibility of keeping anything in the mind, accompanied 
 by an intention of publishing it only to a single person ; 
 but not unfrequently it is a wish to have the gratifica- 
 tion of being the first to communicate the report to a 
 large number of persons : each is made to promise that 
 he will not disclose it, that the original reporter may not 
 be anticipated as he pursues his round, and thus have 
 his delight diminished, in being everywhere the first to 
 tell the bad news. 
 
 Then there are some, who publish the faults of others 
 under the hypocritical pretence of lamenting over them, and 
 producing in others a cattfion against the same thing. You 
 will see them in company putting on a grave counte- 
 nance, and hear them asking the person who sits near 
 them, but with a voice loud enough to reach every 
 corner of the room, whether he has heard the report 
 of Mr. Such-an-one's conduct ; and when every ear is 
 caught, every tongue silent, and every eye fixed, he will 
 proceed, in a strain of deep lamentation and tender 
 commiseration, to bewail the misconduct of the delin- 
 quent, seasoning the narration of the offence, as he 
 goes through all its circumstances and all its aggrava- 
 tions, with many expressions of pity for the offender, 
 and many words of caution to the company. Thus, 
 under the hypocritical guise of pity and the abhorrence 
 of sin, has he indulged in this mischievous yet too com- 
 mon propensity, to publish the failings of some erring
 
 160 
 
 brother. Has he mentioned the subject to the indivi- 
 dual himself? . If not, and he has withheld this mode of 
 expressing his pity, what avails his public commisera- 
 tion 1 What possible sympathy with the offender can 
 it be, to placard him in public, and blazon his faults in 
 company 1 
 
 Some there are, who suppose that there is little harm 
 in talking, in their own particular circles, of the failings of 
 their neighbours : they would not speak of these things 
 before strangers, or society in general ; but they feel no 
 scruple in making them matter of conversation among 
 their select friends. But these friends may not all be 
 prudent ; and if it be not desirable that the fact should 
 not be known without the circle, the best way is, that 
 it be not known within it. Where there is no benefit 
 likely to be obtained by publicity, it is best, in reference 
 to character, to lock up the secret in our own mind, 
 and literally to observe the injunction of the prophet 
 " Trust ye not in a friend, put ye not confidence in a 
 guide ; keep the doors of thy mouth from her that lieth 
 in thy bosom." 
 
 Love, not only will not originate, but will not help to 
 circulate, an evil report. When the tale comes to her, 
 there, at least in that direction, it stops. There are 
 gossips, who, though they would shudder at slander, 
 and, perhaps, would not be the first to give publicity to 
 an idle report of another, yet would feel no scruple in 
 telling what many already know. " It is no secret," 
 they say, " else I would not mention it." But we 
 should not do even this : we should neither invent, nor 
 originate, nor propagate, an evil report. While every 
 tongue is voluble in spreading bad tidings, charity will 
 be silent : while all seem anxionsto enjoy communion 
 in backbiting and detraction, and to sip the cup of de- 
 traction as it passes round the company, she says to the 
 person who has told the story, " 1 have no ears for de- 
 famation, or even for the tale of another's faults. Go, 
 and affectionately speak with the individual of his fail- 
 ings, but do not talk of them in public." If all men 
 acted on these principles, slander would die upon the
 
 161 
 
 lips which gave it birth ; tale-bearers would cease, for 
 want of customers, to carry on their trade as pedlars in 
 detraction ; backbiting would go out of fashion ; and 
 the love of scandal be starved for want of food. 
 
 The evils, then, to which love is opposed, are Ca- 
 lumny, which invents a slanderous report to injure the 
 reputation of another ; detraction, which magnifies a 
 fault ; censoriousness, which is too officious and too ri- 
 gid in condemning it ; tale-bearing, which propagates 
 it; curiosity, which desires to know it ; malignity, which 
 takes delight in it. Of this list of vices, calumny is, of 
 course, the worst ; but a tattling disposition, though it 
 may have little of the malignity of slander, is a servant 
 to do its work, and a tool to perpetrate its mischief. 
 Persons of this description are far too numerous. They 
 are to be found in every town, in every village yes, 
 and in every church. They are not the authors of 
 libels, but they are the publishers ; they do not draw up 
 the placard, but only paste it up in all parts of the town ; 
 and are amenable, not for the malice which invented the 
 defamatory lie, but for the mischief of circulating it. 
 Their minds are a kind of common sewer, into which 
 all the filthy streams of scandal are perpetually flowing: 
 a receptacle for whatever is offensive and noxious. 
 Such gossips might be pitied for their weakness, if they 
 were not still more to be. dreaded for the injury they 
 do. They are not malignants, but they are mischief- 
 makers ; and, as such, should be shunned and dreaded. 
 Every door should be closed against them, or, at least, 
 every ear. They should be made to feel that, if silence 
 be a penance to them, their idle and injurious tales are 
 a much more afflictive penance to their neighbours. 
 Now, such persons would not only be rendered more 
 safe, but more dignified, by charity : this heavenly vir- 
 tue, by destroying their propensity to gossiping, would 
 rescue them from reproach, and confer upon them an 
 elevation of character to which they were strangers be- 
 fore. It would turn their activity into a new channel, 
 and make them as anxious to promote the peace of so- 
 ciety, as they were before to disturb it by the din of 
 15*
 
 162 
 
 their idle and voluble tongue. They would perceive 
 that no man's happiness can be promoted by the publi- 
 cation of his faults : for if he be penitent,, to have his 
 failings made the butt of ridicule, is like pouring nitre 
 and vinegar upon the deep wounds of a troubled mind ; 
 or if he be not, this exposure will do harm, by produc- 
 ing irritation, and by thus placing him farther off from 
 true contrition. 
 
 If it be essential to charity, to feel a disposition to 
 cover the faults which we witness, and to treat with ten- 
 derness and delicacy the offender, it is quite distressing 
 to consider how little of it there is in the world. How 
 much need have we to labour for an increase of it our- 
 selves, and to diffuse it, both by our influence and ex- 
 ample, that the harmony of society may not be so fre- 
 quently interrupted by the lies of the slanderer, the ex- 
 aggerations of the detractor, the harsh judgments of the 
 censorious, or the idle gossip of the tale-bearer. 
 
 " Charity believeth all things." 
 
 Nearly allied to the property we have just considered, 
 and an essential part of candour, is that which follows ; 
 " Charity believeth all things ;'' i. e. not all things 
 contained in the word of God, for faith in divine tes- 
 timony is not here the subject treated of, but all things 
 which are testified concerning our brethren ; not, how- 
 ever, such as are testified to their disadvantage, but in 
 their favour. This property or operation of love is so 
 involved, and has been to such an extent illustrated, in 
 what we have already considered, that it cannot be ne- 
 cessary to enlarge upon the subject. As charity regards 
 with benevolent desire the wcll-bcinu; of all, it must feel 
 naturally disposed to believe whatever can be stated in 
 tlirir favour. Tell a fond mother of the faults of her 
 child : does she immediately and entirely believe the 
 testimony 1 No. You will perceive an aspect of un- 
 
 r*> ** *V
 
 163 
 
 belief on her countenance ; you will hear inquiries and 
 doubtful insinuations from her lips : and after the clear- 
 est evidence has been adduced in support of the testi- 
 mony, you will still discern that she believes you not. 
 But, on the contrary, carry to her a report of her child's 
 good conduct tell her of his achievements in wisdom 
 or in virtue, and you see at once the look of assent, 
 the smile of approbation, hear the language of convic- 
 tion, and, in some cases, witness a degree of confidence 
 which amounts to weakness. How can we account for 
 this 1 ? On the principle of the Apostle, that "love be- 
 lieveth all things :" the mother loves her child ; she is 
 sincerely anxious for his well-being ; and as our wishes 
 have an influence upon our convictions, she is forward 
 to believe what is said to her child's honour, and as 
 backward to believe what is said to his discredit. 
 
 Here, then, is one of the brightest displays of charity, 
 as exhibited in the man who believeth all things which 
 are related to the advantage of others. He hears the 
 report with unfeigned pleasure, listens with the smile of 
 approbation, the nod of assent ; he does not turn to the 
 subject of human depravity, to find ground and reason 
 for discrediting the fact, nor does he search with inqui- 
 sitive eye for some flaw in the evidence to impeach the 
 veracity of the testimony ; he does not cautiously hold 
 his judgment in abeyance, as if afraid of believing too 
 well of his neighbour ; but, if the evidence amount to 
 probability, he is ready to believe the account, and de- 
 lights to find another and another instance of human 
 excellence, by which he may be more reconciled and 
 attached to the family of man, and by which he disco- 
 vers that there is more goodness and happiness on earth 
 than he knew of before. 
 
 The strongest proof and power of love, in this mode 
 of its operation, is its disposition to believe all good re- 
 ports of an enemy or a rival. Many persons can be- 
 lieve nothing good, but everything bad, of those whom 
 they consider in this light. Let them have once con- 
 ceived a prejudice or a dislike ; let them only have been 
 injured or offended, opposed or humbled, by any one ;
 
 164 
 
 and from that moment their ears are closed against 
 every word to his credit, and open to every tale that 
 may tend to his disgrace. Prejudice has neither eyes 
 nor ears for good ; but is all eye and ear for evil. Its 
 influence on the judgment is prodigious ; its bewildering 
 operation upon our convictions is really most surprizing 
 and frightful. In many cases, it gives up evidence as 
 bright, clear, and steady, as the meridian splendour of 
 the sun, to follow that which is as dim and delusive as 
 the feeble light of an ignis fatuus. How tremblingly 
 anxious should we be to keep the mind free from this 
 misleading influence ! How careful to obtain that can- 
 did, impartial, discriminating judgment, which can dis- 
 tinguish things that differ, and approve of things that are 
 excellent, even in reference to persons that are in some 
 respects opposed to us ! This is candour ; and a more 
 important disposition of the kind we can scarcely ima- 
 gine. Through that great law of our nature, which we 
 call the association of ideas, we are too apt, when we 
 have discovered one thing wrong in the character or 
 conduct of another, to unite with it nothing but wrong, 
 and that continually : we scarcely ever think of him, 
 or repeat his name, but under the malign influence oif 
 this unhappy association. What we need is more of 
 that power of abstraction of which we have already 
 spoken, by which we can separate the occasional act 
 from permanent character the bad qualities from the 
 good ones, and still be left at liberty to believe what is 
 good, notwithstanding what we know of the bad. 
 
 If, in accordance with the principles of revelation, 
 the testimony of our senses, and the evidence of expe- 
 rience, we believe that there is none so perfect in the 
 view of God as to be destitute of all flaws ; we at the 
 same time believe that, so far as mere general excel- 
 lence goes, there are few so bad as to be destitute of 
 all approvable traits. It is the business of candour, to 
 examine, to report, to believe with impartiality, and 
 candour is one of the operations of love. This hea- 
 venly disposition forbids the prejudice which is genera- 
 ted by differences on the subject of religion, and ena-
 
 165 
 
 bles its possessor to discredit the evil, and to believe the 
 favourable testimony which is borne to those of other 
 denominations and of other congregations. All excel- 
 lence belongs not to our society or sect ; all evil is not 
 to be found in other societies or sects : yet how pre- 
 pared are many persons to believe nothing good, or 
 everything bad, of other sects or other societies. Away, 
 away, with this detestable spirit ! cast it out of the 
 church of the living God ! like the legion spirit which 
 possessed the man who dw"elt among the tombs, and 
 made him a torment to himself, and a terror to others, 
 this demon of prejudice has too long possessed, and 
 torn, and infuriated, even the body of the Church. 
 " Spirit of love ! descend, and expel the infernal usur- 
 per. Cast out this spoiler of our beauty, this disturber 
 of our peace, this opponent of our communion, this 
 destroyer of our honour. Before thy powerful yet 
 gentle sway, let prejudice retire, and prepare us to be- 
 lieve all things that are reported to us to the credit of 
 others be they of our party or not whether they 
 have offended us or not and whether in past times they 
 have done evil or good." 
 
 " Charity hopeth all things." 
 
 Hope has the same reference here, as the faith just 
 considered ; it relates not to what God has promised in 
 his word to them that love him, but to the good which 
 is reported to exist in our neighbours. In a report of 
 a doubtful matter, where the evidence is apparently 
 against an individual, love will still hope that something 
 may yet turn up to his advantage that some light will 
 yet be thrown on the darker features of the case, which 
 will set the matter in a more favourable point of view ; 
 it will not give full credit to present appearances, how- 
 ever indicative they may seem to be of evil, but hope, 
 even against hope, for the best.
 
 166 
 
 If the action itself cannot be defended, then love will 
 hope that the motive was not bad ; that the intention in 
 the mind of the actor was not so evil as the deed ap- 
 peared to the eye of the spectator ; that ignorance, not 
 malice, was the cause of the transaction ; and that the 
 time will come when this will be apparent. 
 
 Love does not speedily abandon an offender in despon- 
 dency does not immediately give him up as incorrigi- 
 ble, nor soon cease to employ the means necessary for 
 his reformation ; but is wHling to expect that he may 
 yet repent and improve, however discouraging present 
 appearances may be. Hope is the main spring of ex- 
 ertion ; and as love means a desire for the well-being 
 of others, it will not soon let go that hope, in the ab- 
 sence of which all its efforts must be paralyzed. 
 
 There are reasons which make it wise, as well as 
 kind, to believe and hope all things for the best. Pre- 
 sumptive evidence) however strong, is often fallacious. 
 Many circumstances in the case may look very suspi- 
 cious ; and yet the after-discovery of some little event 
 may alter the aspect of the whole affair, and make the 
 innocence of the accused far more apparent than even 
 his guilt seemed before. The various instances in which 
 we have ourselves been deceived by appearances, and 
 have been led by defective, though at the time convinc- 
 ing, evidence, should certainly teach us caution in lis- 
 tening to evil reports, and dispose us to believe and hope 
 all things. 
 
 When we consider, also, how common is slander, de- 
 traction, and talebearing, we should not be hasty in form- 
 ing an opinion ; nor should we forget the anxiety which 
 is often manifested by each party engaged in a conten- 
 tion to gain our alliance to their cause, by being first to 
 report the matter, and to produce an impression favourable 
 to themselves. Solomon has given us a proverb, the 
 truth of which we have seen proved in a thousand in- 
 stances, and which, notwithstanding, we are continually 
 forgetting, " He that is first in his own cause, seemeth 
 to be just ; but his neighbour cometh and searcheth him 
 out." It is a proof of great weakness, so to give our
 
 167 
 
 ear to the first reporter, as to close it against the other 
 party : and yet we are all prone to do this. A plausi- 
 ble tale produces an impression, which no subsequent 
 opposing testimony, though attended with far clearer 
 evidence of truth than the first statement, can effectu- 
 ally obliterate. We know that every case has two as- 
 pects we have all been experimentally acquainted with 
 the folly of deciding till we have heard both sides ; and 
 yet, in opposition to our reason and to our experience, 
 we are apt to take up a prejudice upon ex-parte state- 
 ments. Another circumstance, by which we are in 
 danger of being misled in our opinion of our neigh- 
 bour's conduct, is the mischievous propensity of many 
 persons, to exaggerate everything they relate. What- 
 ever be the philosophical cause, into which a fondness 
 for the marvellous, and a delight in exciting surprise, 
 may be resolved, its existence, and its prevalence, are 
 unquestionable. Perhaps, we all like to relate what is 
 new, and strange, and interesting ; not excepting even 
 bad news. To such a pitch is this carried, by those 
 who are deeply infected with the propensity, that they 
 never tell anything as they heard it : every fact is em- 
 bellished or magnified. If a neighbour has displayed a 
 little warmth of temper, they saw him raging like a 
 fury : if he was a little cheerful after dinner, he was 
 tippling ; if he was evasive, they protest that he com- 
 mitted palpable falsehood, if not perjury ; if he had not 
 been so generous in his transactions as could be wished, 
 he was an extortioner, and devoid of common honesty. 
 Nothing is moderate and sober in the hands of such 
 persons ; everything is extravagant, or extraordinary. 
 All they meet with, is in the form of adventure. Out 
 of the least incident they can construct a tale ; and on 
 a small basis of truth, raise a mighty superstructure of 
 fiction, to interest and impress every company into 
 which they come. Undeterred by the presence of the 
 individual from whom they received the original fact, 
 they will not scruple to go on magnifying and embellish- 
 ing, till the author of the statement can scarcely recog- 
 nize his own narrative. How strange it seems, that
 
 168 
 
 such people should either not know, or not remember, 
 that all this while they are telling falsehoods. They 
 do not seem to understand, that if we relate a circum- 
 stance in such a manner as is calculated to give an im- 
 pression which, either in nature or degree, does not ac- 
 cord with reality, we are guilty of the sin of lying. 
 Where character is concerned, the sin is still greater, 
 since it adds detraction to falsehood. Many a man's 
 reputation has been frittered away by this wicked and 
 mischievous propensity. Every narrator of an instance 
 of misconduct, not, perhaps, heinous in the first in- 
 stance, has added something to the original fact, till the 
 offence has stood before the "public eye, so blackened 
 by this accumulative defamation, that, for a while, he 
 has lost his character, and only partially recovered it in 
 the end, and with extreme difficulty. Remembering 
 the existence of such an evil, we should be backward 
 to take up an unfavourable opinion upon first appear- 
 ance ; and where we cannot believe all things, be wil- 
 ling to hope : such is the dictate of charity, and such 
 the conduct of those who yield their hearts to its influ- 
 ence.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE SELF-DENIAL OF LOVE. 
 
 " Love endureth all things." 
 
 CHARITY is not fickle, unsteady, and easily discour- 
 aged ; not soon disheartened, or induced to relinquish 
 its object ; but is persevering, patient, and self-denying, 
 in the pursuance of its design to relieve the wants, as- 
 suage the sorrows, reform the vices, and allay the ani- 
 mosities, of those whose good it seeks. It is as patient 
 in bearing, as it is active in doing ; uniting the uncom- 
 plaining submission of the lamb, the plodding persever- 
 ance of the ox, with the courage of the lion. 
 
 It is no frivolous and volatile affection, relinquishing 
 its object from a mere love of change ; nor is it a fee- 
 ble virtue, which weakly lets go its purpose in the pros- 
 pect of difficulty ; nor a cowardly grace, which drops 
 its scheme, and flees from the face of danger ; no, it is 
 the union of benevolence with strength, patience, 
 courage, and perseverance. It has feminine beauty, 
 and gentleness, and sweetness, united with masculine 
 energy, and power, and heroism. To do good, it will 
 meekly bear with the infirmities of the meanest, or will 
 brave the scorn and fury of the mightiest. But let us 
 survey the opposition, the difficulties, the discourage- 
 ments, the provocations, which it has to bear, and 
 which, with enduring patience, it can resist. 
 
 16
 
 170 
 
 Sacrifices of ease, of time, of feeling, and of property, 
 must all be endured : for it is impossible to exercise 
 Christian charity without making these. He that would 
 do good to others, without practising self-denial, does 
 but dream. The way of philanthropy is ever up hill, 
 and not unfrequently over rugged rocks, and through 
 thorny paths. If we would promote the happiness of 
 our fellow-creatures, it must be by parting with some- 
 thing or other that is dear to us. If we would lay aside 
 revenge when they have injured us, and exercise for- 
 giveness, we must often mortify our own feelings. If 
 we would reconcile the differences of those who are at 
 variance, we must give up our time, and sometimes our 
 comfort. If we would assuage their griefs, we must 
 expend our property. If we would reform their wick- 
 edness, we must part with our ease. If we would, in 
 short, do good of any kind, we must be willing to deny 
 ourselves, and bear labour of body and pain of mind. 
 And love is willing to do this ; it braces itself for labour, 
 arms itself for conflict, prepares itself for suffering : it 
 looks difficulties in the face, counts the cost, and hero- 
 ically exclaims, " None of these things move me, so 
 that I may diminish the evils, and promote the happi- 
 ness, of others." It will rise before the break of day, 
 linger on the field of labour till midnight, toil amidst 
 the sultry heat of summer, brave the northern blasts of 
 winter, submit to derision, give the energies of body 
 and the comfort of mind : all to do good. 
 
 Misconstruction is another thing that love endures. 
 Some men's minds are ignorant, and cannot understand 
 its schemes ; others are contracted, and cannot com- 
 prehend them ; others are selfish, and cannot approve 
 them ; others are envious, and cannot applaud them ; 
 and all these will unite, either to suspect or to con- 
 demn : but this virtue, " like the eagle, pursues its no- 
 ble, lofty, heaven-bound course, regardless of the flock, 
 of little pecking cavilling birds, which, unable to fol- 
 low, amuse themselves by twittering their objections 
 and ill will in the hedges below." Or, to borrow a 
 scriptural allusion, love, like its great pattern, when he
 
 171 
 
 was upon the earth, goes about doing good, notwith- 
 standing the malignant perversion of its motives and 
 actions on the part of its enemies. " I must do good," 
 she exclaims : " if you cannot understand my plans, I 
 pity your ignorance ; if you misconstrue my motives, I 
 forgive your malignity ; but the clouds that are exhaled 
 from the earth, may as well attempt to arrest the ca- 
 reer of the sun, as for your dulness or malevolence to 
 stop my attempts to do good. I must go on, without 
 your approbation, and against your opposition." 
 
 Envy often tries the patience of love, and is another 
 of the ills which it bears, without being turned aside by 
 it. There are men who would enjoy the praise of be- 
 nevolence without enduring its labours ^ that is, they 
 would wear the laurel of victory without exposing them- 
 selves to the peril of war : they are sure to envy the 
 braver, nobler spirits, whose generous conquests, hav- 
 ing been preceded by labour, are followed by praise. 
 To be good, and to do good, are alike the objects of 
 envy with many persons. " A man of great merit," 
 said a French author, " is a kind of public enemy. 
 By engrossing a multitude of applauses, which would 
 serve to gratify a great many others, he cannot but be 
 envied : men naturally hate what they highly esteem, 
 yet cannot love." The feeling of the countryman at 
 Athens, who, upon being asked why he gave his vote 
 for the banishment of Aristides, replied, " Because he 
 is every where called the just," is by no means uncom- 
 mon. The Ephesians expelled the best of their citi- 
 zens, with the public announcement of this reason, 
 " If any are determined to excel their neighbours, let 
 them find another place to do it." Envy is that which 
 love hates and proscribes, and, in revenge, envy hates 
 and persecutes love in return ; but the terror of envy 
 does not intimidate love, nor its malignity disgust it : it 
 can bear even the perversions, misrepresentations, and 
 opposition, of this fiend-like passion, and pursues its 
 course, simply saying, "Get thee behind me, Satan." 
 Ingratitude is often the hard usage which love has to 
 sustain, and which it patiently endures. Into such a
 
 state of turpitude is man fallen, that he would bear any 
 weight rather than that- of obligation. Men will ac- 
 knowledge small obligations, but often return malice 
 for such as are extraordinary ; and some will sooner 
 forgive great injuries than great services. Many per- 
 sons do not know their benefactors, many more will not 
 acknowledge them, and others will not reward them, 
 even with the cheap offering of thanks. These things 
 are enough to make us sick of the world : yes ; but 
 ought not to make us weary of trying to mend it ; for 
 the more ungrateful it is, the more it needs our benevo- 
 lence. Here is the noble, the lofty, the godlike temper 
 of charity : it pursues its course like the providence of 
 Jehovah, which continues to cause its sun to rise and 
 its rain to descend, not only upon the irrational crea- 
 tures, who have no capacity to know their benefactor, 
 but upon the rational ones, many of whom have no dis- 
 position to acknowledge him. 
 
 Derision is often employed to oppose the efforts of 
 love by all the artillery of scorn. Spiritual religion, 
 and especially that view of it which this subject exhi- 
 bits, has ever been an object of contempt to ungodly 
 men. Banter and ridicule are brought to stop its pro- 
 gress ; the greatest profaneness and buffoonery are 
 sometimes employed to laugh it out of countenance ; 
 but it has learned to treat with indifference even the 
 cruel mockings of irony, and to receive upon its shield- 
 arm all the arrows of the most envenomed wit. 
 
 Opposition does not disgust, nor persevering obstinacy 
 weary, it. It can endure to have its schemes examined 
 and sifted by those who cannot understand them, ca- 
 villed at by those who cannot mend them, and resisted 
 by those who have nothing to offer in their place. It 
 does not throw all up in a fit of passion, nor suffer the 
 tongue of petulance, nor the clamour of envy, to stop 
 its efforts. 
 
 Want of success, that most discouraging considera- 
 tion to activity, is not sufficient to drive it from the field ; 
 but in the expectation of the future harvest, it conti- 
 nues to plough and to sow in hope. Its object is too im-
 
 173 
 
 portant to be relinquished for a few failures ; and no- 
 thing but the demonstration of absolute impossibility 
 can induce it to give up its benevolent purpose. 
 
 If instances of this view of Christian love be neces- 
 sary to illustrate and enforce it by the power of exam- 
 ple, many and striking ones are at hand. Few, very 
 few, are worthy of being put in competition with that 
 of Mr. CLARKSON, whose illustrious name, and that of 
 his no less illustrious coadjutor, Mr. WILBERFORCE, 
 will ever be pronounced with tears of gratitude by Afri- 
 ca, as the chief agents in the work of inducing the 
 greatest commercial nation upon earth to abolish the 
 infernal traffic in human beings ; and ought to be re- 
 corded in letters of gold by their grateful countrymen, 
 for having delivered the nation from the greatest crime 
 which, in her modern history, she ever committed, and 
 from the greatest curse which she could dread at the 
 hands of retributive justice. Perhaps no uninspired 
 book may be so fairly regarded as a beautiful comment 
 on the expression, " Charity endureth all things," as 
 Clarkson's "History of the Abolition of the Slave 
 Trade." Twenty years of that good man's life were 
 occupied in long and fatiguing journies, at all seasons 
 of the year : in labours of an almost incredible extent, 
 to trace reports to their source, to collect information, 
 and to gather evidence ; in braving opposition, bearing 
 all kinds of ridicule, encountering savages, whose trade 
 had made them reckless of crime, and thirsty for blood ; 
 in personal exposure, so great, that by nothing less than 
 supernatural strength, granted for the occasion, would 
 he have been rescued at one tune from threatened and 
 intended death. Nor was this the full measure of the 
 endurance : disappointment the most bitter and dis- 
 couraging often extinguished his brightest hopes ; luke- 
 warmness on the part of those from whom he had a 
 right to expect the most zealous co-operation often sad- 
 dened his heart, though it never paralyzed his zeal ; and, 
 to try his perseverance and put his benevolence to the 
 severest test, his cause was of a nature which, by the 
 sufferings it brought under review, was enough to sicken 
 16*
 
 174 
 
 and turn from its purpose a compassion of less hardi- 
 hood than his. What must that man have had to en- 
 dure, who thus describes his feelings after the details of 
 evidence furnished by only one of the thousands of 
 days spent in familiarizing himself with the various 
 scenes of the biggest outrage ever committed against 
 the rights of humanity *?-<" The different scenes of 
 barbarity which these represented to me, greatly added 
 to the affliction of my mind. My feelings became now 
 almost insupportable. I was agonized to think that 
 this trade should last another day : I was in a state of 
 agitation from morning till night : I determined I would 
 soon leave the place in which I saw nothing but misery. 
 I had collected now, I believe, all the evidence it would 
 afford ; and to stay a day longer in it than was neces- 
 sary, would be only an interruption to my happiness 
 and health." 
 
 Who but a Christian philanthropist of the highest 
 order could have pursued such a career, year after year, 
 and not be so wearied by labour so disheartened by 
 opposition so disgusted by cruelty, as to abandon the 
 object of his pursuit ? Here was, indeed, a beautiful 
 illustration of the " love that endureth all things." 
 
 But a greater than Clarkson might be mentioned. 
 Let the history of St. Paul be studied, and his suffer- 
 ing career be traced, and his declarations heard con- 
 cerning his varied and heavy tribulations. " I think 
 that God hath set forth us the apostles last, as it were 
 appointed to death ; for we are made a spectacle unto 
 the world, and to angels, and to men. We are feols 
 for Christ's sake, but ye are wise in Christ : we are 
 weak, but ye are strong : ye are honourable, but we 
 are despised. Even unto this present hour, we both 
 hunger and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and 
 have no certain dwelling place ; and labour, working 
 with our own hands : being reviled, we bless : being 
 persecuted, we suffer it : being defamed, we entreat : 
 we are made as the filth of the earth, and are the off- 
 scouring of all things unte this day." " In labours 
 more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons
 
 175 
 
 
 
 more frequent, in deaths oft. Of the Jews five times 
 received I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten 
 with rods ; once was I stoned ; thrice I suffered ship- 
 wreck ; a night and a day I have been in the deep : in 
 journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of rob- 
 bers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by 
 the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilder- 
 ness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren : 
 in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in 
 hunger and thirst- in fastings often, in cold and naked- 
 ness. Besides those things that are without, that which 
 cometh upon me daily, the care of all the churches." 
 Nor did these sufferings come upon him without his be- 
 ing previously apprized of them, for the Holy Ghost 
 had witnessed to him that bonds and afflictions awaited 
 him. Yet neither the prospect of his varied tribula- 
 tions, nor the full weight of them, made him for a mo- 
 ment think of relinquishing his benevolent exertions for 
 the welfare of mankind. His was the love that " en- 
 dureth all things." 
 
 And a greater, far greater than even the great Apos- 
 tle of the Gentiles, might be also introduced, as afford- 
 ing, by his conduct, a most striking illustration of this 
 property of Christian charity. Who but himself can 
 conceive of what the Son of God endured while he so- 
 journed in this world 1 Who can imagine the magni- 
 tude of his sufferings, and the extent of that opposition, 
 ingratitude, and hard usage, amidst which those suffer- 
 ings were sustained, and by which they were so greatly 
 increased 1 Never was so much mercy treated with so 
 much cruelty ; the constant labour he sustained, and 
 the many privations to which he submitted, were little, 
 compared with the malignant contradiction, resistance, 
 and persecution, he received from those who were the 
 objects of his mercy. The work of man's redemption 
 was not accomplished, as was the work of creation, by 
 a mere fiat delivered from the throne, on which Omni- 
 potence reigned in the calm repose of infinite majesty : 
 no the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, 
 as a man of sorrow and acquainted with grief. The
 
 176 
 
 wrath of God, the fury of devils, the rage of man, the 
 malignity of enemies, the wayward follies and fickle- 
 ness of friends, the baseness of treachery, the scorn of 
 official rank, and the many stings of ingratitude, ca- 
 lumny, and inconstancy, all poured their venom into 
 that heart which glowed with affection to the children 
 of men. Nothing turned him from his purpose no- 
 thing abated his ardour in the work of our salvation. 
 His, too, and above all others, was indeed a love which 
 " endureth all things." 
 
 Such is the model we are to copy. In doing good 
 we must prepare ourselves for opposition, and all its 
 attendant train of evils. Whether our object be the 
 conversion of souls, or the well-being of man's corpo- 
 real nature whether we are seeking to build up the 
 temporal, or to establish the eternal, interests of man- 
 kind, we must remember that we have undertaken a 
 task which will call for patient, self-denying, and per- 
 severing effort. In the midst of difficulties, we must 
 not utter the vain and cowardly wish, that we had not 
 set our hand to the plough ; but press onward in hum- 
 ble dependance upon the grace of the Holy Spirit, and 
 animated by the hope of either being rewarded by suc- 
 cess, or by the consciousness that we did every thing to 
 obtain it; and we shall do this, if we possess much of 
 the power of love ; for its ardour is such, that many 
 waters cannot quench it. Its energies increase with 
 the difficulty that requires them, and, like a well-con- 
 structed arch, it becomes more firm and consolidated 
 by the weight it has to sustain. In short, it is " sted- 
 fast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the 
 Lord, forasmuch as it knows that its labour shall not be 
 in vain in the Lord."
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE PERMANENCE OF LOVE. 
 
 " Charity never faileth. : 
 
 PERMANENCE is the climax of excellence. How 
 often has the sigh been heaved, and the tear been shed, 
 over the perishable nature of earthly possessions. Their 
 transient duration presented a painful contrast to their 
 great worth, and extorted the sorrowful exclamation, 
 Alas ! that such excellence sholild be mortal ! The 
 charm of beauty soon fades, the force of genius is at 
 length exhausted, the monuments of art decay ; an in- 
 curable taint of corruption has infected every thing 
 earthly, and even religion itself does not confer immor- 
 tality upon every thing that belongs to its sacred eco- 
 nomy. One thing there is, which shall remain for ever, 
 for " charity never faileth ;" and its permanence is the 
 crown and glory of all its other noble qualities. It is 
 a truly immortal disposition, bearing no exclusive re- 
 lation to earth or to time, but destined to pass away 
 from the world with the souls in which it exists, to 
 dwell in heaven, and flourish through eternity.
 
 178 
 
 When it is said that it never faileth, we are not mere- 
 ly to understand, that being once planted in the soul, 
 it remains there as the centre and support of all the 
 other practical virtues : that it will so remain, is un- 
 questionable, for its continuance is essential to the ex- 
 istence of personal and social religion. A man may 
 change his opinions on some subjects he may give up 
 some sentiments once believed by him to be truth ; 
 but he cannot give up love, without ceasing to be a 
 Christian. 
 
 Nor does the Apostle mean that it remains as the 
 spirit of Christianity till the end of time, amidst every 
 change of external administration : that it shall so abide 
 is unquestionable. The genius of piety is unchange- 
 able. This was the temper obligatory upon the primi- 
 tive Christian ; it is obligatory upon us ; and it will be 
 no less so upon every future generation. A holier and 
 happier age is in reserve for the Church of Christ ; 
 " compared with which, invisible though it be at pre- 
 sent, and hid behind the clouds which envelope this 
 dark and troubled scene, the brightest day that has yet 
 shone upon the world is midnight, and the highest 
 splendours that have invested it the shadow of death :" 
 but this glory shall consist in a more perfect and con- 
 spicuous manifestation of the grace of love. It is in 
 this, combined with a clearer perception of the truth, 
 that the Christians of the Millennium will surpass those 
 of every preceding age. 
 
 But the Apostle's reference is evidently to another 
 world : his eye was upon heaven, and he was looking 
 at things unseen and eternal, when he said that " cha- 
 rity never faileth." He was then soaring on the wing 
 of faith, and exploring the scenes of eternity, among 
 which he saw this celestial plant, surviving the dissolu- 
 tion of the universe, outliving the earthly state of the 
 church, transplanted to the paradise of God, and flour- 
 ishing in the spirits of just men made perfect near the 
 fountain of light and love. 
 
 To give still greater emphasis to what he says of its 
 continuance, he contrasts it with some things, which,
 
 179 
 
 however highly valued by the Corinthian believers, were 
 of- a transient duration, and, therefore, of greatly infe- 
 rior value to this. 
 
 " Whether there be prophecies, they shall fail." By 
 prophecies here, we are to understand inspired inter- 
 pretation of the Scriptures ; all new revelations from 
 God, by oral or written communication, for the instruc- 
 tion and edification of the saints. These, so far from 
 belonging to the heavenly state of the church, did not 
 survive its primitive ages. The gift of inspiration was 
 soon withdrawn, the oracle of prophecy was hushed, 
 and all further responses from heaven were denied. 
 
 " Whether there be tongues, they shall cease." This, 
 of course, refers to the miraculous power of speaking 
 any language without previous study. This gift also 
 ceased with the other extraordinary endowments of the 
 primitive ages, and bears no relation to the heavenly 
 world. Whether the communication of ideas in the 
 celestial state will be carried on by speech, is, at pre- 
 sent, unknown to us ; if it be so, what the language 
 will be is beyond conjecture. 
 
 " Whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away." 
 This expressiSn most probably refers to what is called, 
 in the preceding chapter, " the word of knowledge ;" 
 and of which the Apostle speaks in the beginning of 
 this chapter " Though I understand all mysteries, and 
 all knowledge, and have not love, I am nothing." It 
 means an inspired knowledge of the types, predictions, 
 and mysteries, of the Old Testament, and of their ac- 
 complishment by the facts of the Christian economy. 
 This, also, was among the signs and wonders which 
 were to vanish away ; which, having been granted as 
 attestations to the divine authority of the word of God, 
 and for the edification of the church, were disconti- 
 nued when the canon of Scripture was completed and 
 settled. 
 
 Some extend the Apostle's reasoning so far, as to in- 
 clude every kind of our present knowledge ; which, as 
 to its imperfect attainments, and inadequate mediums, 
 and present modes of communication, shall be remov-
 
 180 
 
 ed, and give place to a more easy and perfect method 
 of acquiring truth, and a more entire comprehension of 
 its nature and relations. 
 
 As to the knowledge of the arts of the practical sci- 
 ences and of literature, this shall be lost and forgotten, 
 as utterly useless, and as bearing no relation whatever 
 to the celestial state. Ye master spirits, ye command- 
 ing geniuses, ye lordly minds, who exhaust the force of 
 your intellect, and lavish its treasures upon themes of 
 mere earthly interest, see here the termination of all 
 your labours. Scholars, poets, painters, sculptors, 
 warriors, ye who assemble in the temple of fame, amidst 
 the mightiest productions of human skill, to pay ho- 
 mage to each other, to receive the admiration of the 
 world, and to immortalize your names, giving to your 
 mighty works the full measure of their value, in refer- 
 ence to earth and to time, admitting that, in this view, 
 they are bright scenes in the history of man ; yet still, 
 in reference to heaven and its eternity, they are nothing 
 less than nothing and vanity. Not an angel would 
 turn to gaze upon the noblest production of human 
 imagination, nor will a plea be put in by a single inha- 
 bitant of heaven, to exempt from the destruction of the 
 last fire the sublimest specimens of human skill. My- 
 riads of volumes have been already lost and forgotten ; 
 myriads more are on their way to oblivion ; myriads 
 still shall rise, only to vanish ; and of all the accumu- 
 lations that shall have been made by the time of the 
 Millennium, arid which shall have been going on through 
 the longest and the purest age of reason not one shall 
 be saved from the general conflagration, as worthy to 
 be borne to the heavenly world. " Knowledge shall 
 vanish away." 
 
 But not only shall the knowledge contained in the 
 scientific, and literary, and imaginative, productions of 
 men vanish, together with the volumes by which it was 
 circulated ; but all theological works, our creeds, our 
 catechisms, our articles of faith, our bodies of divinity, 
 our works of biblical criticism, our valued, and justly 
 valued, commentaries, our sermons, aud our treatises,
 
 181 
 
 all shall vanish. The knowledge we gain from these 
 sources is not that which will attend us to the skies, and 
 be sufficient for us when we have arrived at the region 
 of cloudless splendour, the element of wisdom, the na- 
 tive land, and dwelling-place of truth. 
 
 The introduction of this idea, hy the Apostle, has 
 given occasion for one of the most striking digressions 
 from his tract of thought which he ever made. His 
 argument only required him to state that love is better 
 than the gift of knowledge, because the latter shall 
 cease ; .but he proceeds to show why it shall cease, and 
 ascribes its continuance to its imperfection : he then 
 takes an opportunity to draw one of the most sublime 
 contrasts to be found in the Word of God, between 
 our knowledge in the present world, and our more 
 perfect comprehension of truth in the world that is to 
 come. 
 
 And why shall knowledge vanish away 1 because 
 
 " We know in part, and we prophesy in part." 
 
 A part only of truth is made known, and, therefore, a 
 part only is received by us. This may imply that there 
 are many things we do not know at all. Who can doubt 
 this 1 Upon the supposition that we were perfectly ac- 
 quainted with all that is proper to be known, all that 
 could be acquired by the aid of reason and the disco- 
 veries of revelation, still we should hear a voice, saying 
 to us, " Lo, these are a part of his ways, but the thun- 
 der of his power who can understand ?" There are, 
 doubtless, truths of vast importance and of deep in- 
 terest, which have never yet approached, and, in the 
 present world, never will approach, the horizon of the 
 human understanding. There are paths in the region 
 of truth which the vulture's eye has not seen, and which 
 are hid from the view of all living. 
 
 When, on his death-bed, the great NEWTON was con- 
 gratulated upon the discoveries he had made, he repli- 
 ed, with the modesty usually attendant on vast attain- 
 ments, " I have been only walking on the shores of 
 
 17
 
 182 
 
 truth, and have, perhaps, picked up a gem or two, of 
 greater value than others ; but the vast ocean itself lies 
 all before me." This is strictly correct in reference to 
 the material universe, to which the remark was intend- 
 ed to apply. Of natural truth, the ocean, with its 
 depths, its islands, and the continents and kingdoms to 
 which it leads, is all before us. We have only looked 
 upon the surface, and seen some of the objects passing 
 upon it : we have only seen a few land-marks, on one 
 part of one of its shores ; but the infinitude of its am- 
 ple space, and the innumerable objects which that space 
 contains, are yet to be explored. And with respect to 
 the spiritual world, although we possess, in the volume 
 of inspiration, a revelation of the most sublime, impor- 
 tant, and interesting objects of knowledge ; yet, pro- 
 bably, there are truths of which, after all that divines 
 and philosophers have written, we can form no more 
 conception, than we can of the objects of a sixth sense, 
 or than a blind man can of colours. " We know only 
 in part." 
 
 It is implied also, that what we do know, we know 
 but imperfectly. In some cases, our knowledge is un- 
 certainty, and amounts only to opinion : faith is weak, 
 and mixed with many doubts. We cannot exultingly 
 exclaim, " I know ;" we can scarcely say, " I believe." 
 The object sometimes presents itself to our mind, like 
 the sun seen dimly through a mist, now appearing, 
 and then lost again, in the density of the fog. Now a 
 truth comes upon us, in a thin and shadowy form ; we 
 think we see it, but it is again obscured. We only see 
 glimmerings. We perceive appearances, rather than 
 demonstrations ; dark outlines, not perfect pictures. 
 
 And where no doubt undermines the certainty of our 
 knowledge, what narrow limits bound its extent ! We 
 walk, as through a valley shut in on each side by lofty 
 mountains, whose tops are lost amidst the clouds, whose 
 Shadows add to the obscurity of our situation, and 
 whose mighty masses stand between us and the pros- 
 pect which lies beyond. How imperfect and limited is 
 our knowledge of the great God of the spirituality of
 
 183 
 
 his nature of his necessary self-existence from ete- 
 nity of his triune essence ! How feeble are oujr 
 conceptions of the complex person of Christ, the Go A- 
 man Mediator ; of the scheme of providence, embra- 
 cing the history of our world, and of all other worlds ; 
 and of the connexion between providence and redemp- 
 tion ! How have divines and philosophers been pej- 
 plexed on the subject of the entrance of moral evil ; on 
 the agreement between divine prescience, and the free- 
 dom of the human will ; between moral inability, and 
 human accountability ! How much obscurity hangs, 
 in our view, over many of the operations of nature ! 
 how soon do we arrive at ultimate laws, which, for aught 
 we can tell, may be only effects of causes that are hid- 
 den from our observation ! In what ignorance do we 
 live, of many of the most common occurrences around 
 us. Who has perfect ideas of the essences of things, 
 separate and apart from their qualities of matter, for 
 instance, or spirit? Who can perfectly conceive how 
 the idea of motion results from that of body, or how the 
 idea of sensation results from that of spirit 1 On what 
 theme shall we meditate, and not be mortified to find 
 how little progress we can make before we are arrested 
 by insurmountable difficulties ] On what eminence shall 
 we take our stand, and to what part of the horizon di- 
 rect our eye, and not see clouds and shadows resting 
 like a veil upon the prospect ] How truly is it said, 
 " We know but in part." Angels must wonder at the 
 limitation of our ideas ; and disembodied spirits must be 
 astonished at the mighty bound they make, by that one 
 step whicji conducts them across the threshold of 
 eternity. 
 
 The Apostle illustrates the present imperfection of 
 our knowledge, compared with its future advancement, 
 by two similitudes. The first is, the difference between 
 the ideas of a child and those of a man. " When I was 
 a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I 
 thought as a child ; but when I became a man, I put 
 away childish things." The meaning of Paul in this 
 verse is, -that our knowledge in the heavenly state will
 
 184 
 
 be as different from, and as superior to, any thing we 
 gain on earth, as the ideas of an adult, in the maturity of 
 his intellectual powers, are to those which he enter- 
 tained when he was a child. Our knowledge, at pre- 
 sent, is that of children ; we are not only in the minori- 
 ty, but in the infancy, of our minds. Our notions are 
 the opinions of children ; our discourses are the lispings 
 of children ; our controversies the reasonings of children. 
 The prodigious attainments of those great luminaries, 
 Bacon, Milton, Boyle, Locke, Newton ; and in the 
 science of theology, of those great divines, Owen, 
 Howe, Charnock, Baxter, Bates, Butler, Hooker ; 
 all these are but the productions of children, written for 
 the instruction of others less taught than themselves. 
 Yea, the Apostle includes himself and his writings in 
 the description " We know in part, and we prophesy 
 in part. When / was a child, / spake as a child ; but 
 when /became a man, / put away childish things." He 
 alludes to his own childish conceits, and puerile simpli- 
 city, which had given way to the matured knowledge 
 <rf his riper years : and, by implication, declares his ex- 
 pectation, that the knowledge which he should gain in 
 the celestial state would be as much above his present 
 views, as they were beyond those which he entertained 
 when he was a child. Yes : that greatest of mere men 
 that illustrious individual who had been in the third 
 heaven who had explored, as we imagine, some of the 
 secrets of the unseen world who had fathomed so 
 much of the depth, measured so much of the height, of 
 truth ; even he tells us, that he was but in his minority. 
 What an idea does it give us of the infinitude of know- 
 ledge yet to be obtained, when we are informed that the 
 Bible itself, even the New Testament that book of 
 books, the work of which it is said, it has God for its 
 author, truth without any mixture of error for its con- 
 tents, and salvation for its end is but a book for child- 
 ren, a work for saints in their infancy, a mere elemen- 
 tary treatise on the subject of eternal truth, written by 
 the finger of God, for his family, during their education 
 and novitiate on earth. 

 
 185 
 
 The second similitude, by which the present imper- 
 fection of our knowledge is set forth, is that very par- 
 tial acquaintance which we gain with material objects, 
 by looking at them through a glass. " Now we see 
 through a glass, darkly." i ;v 
 
 Considerable diversity of opinion prevails as to the 
 precise object of the Apostle's allusion in the expres- 
 sion which he here employs. It is admitted that the 
 word in the original literally signifies a mirror; and 
 hence most expositors consider that the comparison is to 
 this article, and that his meaning is, that our knowledge 
 of divine truth in this world, is only of that partial kind 
 which we gain by seeing objects reflected from a mirror. 
 But does this accord with his design, which is to repre- 
 sent the obscurity of our present ideas, compared with 
 what we shall know hereafter, when that which is per- 
 fect is come 1 The knowledge we gain of an object that 
 is reflected from a highly polished surface is too accu- 
 rate to furnish such a comparison. Hence some are of 
 opinion, and this is the view I take, that the allusion 
 is to those semi-transparent substances, such as horn 
 and diaphanous stones, which were used in windows be- 
 fore glass was known, and through which objects would 
 be but very dimly seen. Nothing could better accord 
 with the Apostle's purpose than this. How dim and 
 shadowy do those forms appear, which we discover 
 through such a medium : we discern only the mere out- 
 line ; every thing is seen imperfectly, and many things 
 connected with the object are not seen at all. " We 
 see it through a glass, darkly." The term rendered 
 " darkly" signifies an enigma, a riddle, a form of speech 
 in which one thing is put for another ; which, though in 
 some respects like it, is but an obscure representation, 
 and calculated to puzzle those who are required to find 
 out the thing which is thus darkly shadowed forth. 
 
 Here it may be proper to inquire why divine truth is 
 at present involved in so much comparative darkness. 
 
 It is designed to accord with the analogy of faith. We 
 are to walk by faith, which is not only opposed to the 
 17*
 
 186 
 
 the testimony of sense, but is distinguished also from the 
 clearness and certainty of perfect knowledge. 
 
 It comports also with the purpose of a divine revelation. 
 There is no doubt but that some of the clouds which en- 
 velope the subjects of revealed truth could have been 
 dissipated, and many things put in a still clearer light. 
 A studied caution, a designed reserve, is maintained hi 
 some places ; for as the Bible is given to be a test of 
 moral disposition, the evidence should be sufficient to 
 demand belief, without being enough to compel it. The 
 Bible affords us light enough to assist us in discharging 
 the duties of this world, and to guide us to glory, honour, 
 immortality, and eternal life ; but it concedes nothing to 
 curiosity nothing to a spirit of restless inquiry. It 
 stands like a waymark on the high road to eternity, and 
 is intended simply to announce what is truth, and the 
 way to its dwelling-place, but not to make known to the 
 traveller all the details of the city to which he is jour- 
 neying. 
 
 And, in another view, this obscurity is absolutely 
 necessary. If the disclosure were more obscure, it would 
 be beyond our apprehension ; we could know nothing ; 
 and, in that case, religion could have no existence, or 
 exist only as the blind offspring of ignorance. If it were 
 more cloudy and shadowy, it would have no power to 
 arrest attention or interest the heart : it might, indeed, 
 point to a brighter state, where it would throw off the 
 dense covering in which it had enwrapped itself on earth ; 
 but too little of the beauty of truth would be seen to 
 captivate our affections, and to allure us to follow her to 
 that world where she displays her unveiled glories : but 
 as revelation is now given to us, enough of the beauty of 
 truth is seen, to inspire us with a pure affection 
 enough is concealed, to make us long to see her face to 
 face. And were all the knowledge that it is possible for 
 us to receive actually communicated to us, te/io, amidst 
 tuck acquisitions, could attend to the low pursuits of ordi- 
 nary affairs ? The immediate effect of such a disclosure 
 would be to produce, so far as real Christians are con- 
 cerned, a total stagnation of the affairs of this life. All
 
 187 
 
 the studies and pursuits, the arts and the labours, which 
 now employ the activity of man which support order, 
 or promote happiness, would lie neglected and aban- 
 doned. It is necessary that something of the magni- 
 tude of truth should be concealed something of its 
 effulgence softened something of its beauty veiled, 
 or the holy mind of the Christian, absorbed in such a 
 vision, would find all that is important in life utterly in- 
 significant, and all that is attractive tasteless and insi- 
 pid. Disturbed in his lofty meditations, and interrupted 
 in his ecstasies, by the din of business, and the obtru- 
 sion of low, grovelling cares, and judging that scenes 
 of secular activity unfitted him for communion with this 
 heavenly visitant, he would retire from the social 
 haunts of men, to converse with truth in the solitude of 
 the hermitage or the silence of the desert. So neces- 
 sary is it to hang a veil on the too dazzling brightness 
 of divine subjects. 
 
 This partial obscurity is also necessary, on account of 
 the feebleness and limited extent of our faculties. Our 
 minds could no more bear to look upon the unmitigated 
 glory of divine truth, than the eye of an infant could 
 sustain the unsoftened effulgence of the mid-day sun. 
 Our minds cannot grasp, in its full extent, one single 
 subject out of all the mighty theory. Some vague idea 
 may be formed of the almost illimitable range of this 
 plan, when we recollect that its developement is to em- 
 ploy our understanding in the highest state of intellec- 
 tual perfection, and to employ it, not for a measured 
 term, but through the countless ages of an endless ex- 
 istence. The study, the discovery, the enjoyment, of 
 truth will form one of the chief felicities of the heaven- 
 ly state : but what must that knowledge be, which is to 
 afford something new and interesting through eternity 1 
 how can this be obtained by man in the infancy of his 
 existence upon earth 1 There are subjects yet to be 
 known, which would have no less surpassed the underr 
 standing of Newton, than his profound discoveries in 
 science would, the mind of a child. 
 
 No wonder, then, that we walk at present amidst
 
 188 
 
 shades and glimmerings. But how humbling is this 
 view of the subject to the pride of intellect !" " There 
 is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty 
 gtveth him understanding." The thinking mind is the 
 glory of our nature ; it is the candle of the Lord shin- 
 ing " in the earthly house of our tabernacle," and 
 giving light to all the faculties of our soul, to guide 
 their operations, and to direct them in their appropriate 
 business. To what an immeasurable elevation does it 
 raise man above the brute creation ! What wonders it 
 has achieved what stupendous monuments of wisdom 
 and power it has raised ! Who can mention the names 
 of the giants of the world of mind, and especially who 
 can survey the productions of their genius, without 
 having high notions of the capacities of the human un- 
 derstanding 1 But what are all the works of the greatest 
 theologians, the profoundest philosophers, when com- 
 pared with the knowledge of another world, but as the 
 ideas of one who " thought as a child, and spake as a 
 child !" Shall any man shall the greatest of men 
 be proud of their modicum of knowledge, vain of their 
 childish notions, puffed up with their poor scantling of 
 information 1 Were the meanest and least of all the 
 spirits of just men made perfect to come down and ca- 
 techise a synod of the greatest divines on earth, how 
 soon would he confound them amidst their most saga- 
 cious discoveries and most celebrated works. What 
 infantine conceptions, what puerile conceits, could be 
 found out in their most finished productions ! So little 
 reason has man for the pride of understanding so 
 much cause to clothe himself with the garment of hu- 
 mility.
 
 HEAVEN A STATE OF PERFECT KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 " But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part 
 shall be done away. Now we see through a glass darkly ; but then 
 face to face : now I know but in part ; but then shall I know, even as 
 I am known." 
 
 ALL these expressions refer to the celestial world, 
 and unite to teach us that heaven is a state of perfect 
 knowledge. Here we know only part of truth ; then 
 we shall know the whole : here we know nothing but 
 hi a partial manner ; there we shall know every thing 
 completely : here we see truth, only as we perceive the 
 dark shadow of a man, through a dense medium ; there 
 we shall behold it as clearly as we do the same man 
 when we see him face to face : there we shall know 
 truth, even as we are known by superior beings, i. e. 
 with as much certainty, though not with the same com- 
 prehension. 
 
 This last expression has been sometimes explained, 
 as conveying the intimation that we shall recognize each 
 other in the celestial state. " We shall know others, 
 even as we are known by them." Many reasons con- 
 cur to produce the expectation of this mutual recogni- 
 tion. It is almost impossible to suppose that we shall 
 maintain our identity, not only of person but of cha- 
 racter ; and also the reminiscence of our earthly exis- 
 tence and history; without believing the interesting 
 truth, that we shall again be mutually known to each 
 other in the heavenly world. This is one of the senti- 
 ments which the sacred writers rather take for granted 
 than stop to prove. But certainly this is not the mean- 
 ing of the passage now under consideration. The
 
 190 
 
 Apostle here speaks of our knowledge of things, not 
 of persons. 
 
 The felicity of the celestial state will, doubtless, in- 
 clude every thing that can yield delight to a corporeal, 
 social, intellectual, and moral creature. It is eternal 
 life everlasting existence, attended by every thing that 
 can render existence a blessing. It is life, in the fullest 
 sense of the term life in the highest degree of perfec- 
 tion. The glorified body will probably retain the or- 
 gans of sound and sight, the purest of the senses, 
 and thus become the inlet of the most pleasurable sen- 
 sations ; while it will be for ever free from the cravings 
 of appetite, the languor of sickness, the distress of pain, 
 the weariness of labour. The social impulse will be 
 gratified by the sublime converse of " the innumerable 
 company of angels, and the spirits of just men made 
 perfect." The moral feelings will all combine in the 
 most unsullied purity ; while the intellect will be irra- 
 diated by the light of eternal truth. The heart will 
 thus repose in the enjoyment of the chief good, and the 
 mind in the contemplation of the first truth; beyond 
 which nothing remains to be enjoyed nothing to be 
 known. 
 
 But we are now considering heaven under the repre- 
 sentation of a state of knowledge, and as an intellectual 
 condition. In this light the Scriptures frequently speak 
 of the glory to be revealed. They call it an inheritance 
 " in light ;" they describe it as a world where there is 
 no night. There " we shall see him as he is," " be- 
 hold his glory," " see him face to face :" expressions 
 which relate more to the eyes of the mind than to those 
 of the body. Perhaps we do not sufficiently contem- 
 plate heaven in this view of it. The greater part of 
 mankind are taken up with mere sensations,- and are 
 but little acquainted with the pure enjoyment connected 
 with the perception of evidence and the apprehension 
 of truth. The rapturous exclamation, " I have found 
 it !" is rarely uttered by the multitude, over anything 
 but the acquisition of wealth or the gratification of ap- 
 petite. But those who have been engaged in any mea-
 
 191 
 
 sure in intellectual pursuits, will be able to appreciate 
 the pleasures of knowledge. Evidence is to the mind 
 like light to the eye, and the perception of truth, as wa- 
 ter to the thirsty. Even the comparatively barren sci- 
 ences of numbers and figures, which exclude the ope- 
 ration of the fancy, and present nothing to exercise the 
 passions or gratify the imagination, the truths of which 
 derive all their interest from the evidence by which they 
 are supported, or the manner in which they are ap- 
 plied to other purposes ;->-yes ; even these are a source 
 of high and pure enjoyment to the human mind, which 
 is ever seeking to arrive at infallible certainty, and can 
 repose nowhere else. What exquisite delight has been 
 experienced by some men, when, after a long process 
 of reasoning or a fatiguing course of experiments, they 
 have at length arrived at a demonstration. If, then, in 
 the present world, where the subjects of our research 
 are often so insignificant, where our knowledge is ob- 
 tained with such labour, is limited by so much ignorance, 
 and blended with so much error ; if amidst such cir- 
 cumstances the pleasure of knowledge be so great, 
 what will it be in the heavenly state 1 
 
 Let us consider what will be the OBJECTS of our 
 knowledge. 
 
 If we may be allowed the expression, we shall know 
 all things that are knowable, so far as an acquaintance 
 with them will contribute to our felicity. We shall 
 know every thing that is essential to the right perform- 
 ance of duty, or to the most perfect gratification of our 
 intellect all that lies within our proper sphere or com- 
 pass as creatures. 
 
 We shall perfectly comprehend all the laws which go- 
 vern the material world. The discovery of these are 
 now considered to be among the most dignified and gra- 
 tifying employments of the human understanding. It 
 was his discoveries in natural philosophy which gave to 
 our great Newton his celebrity. What a high station 
 in the records of fame is assigned to Linneus, La Place, 
 Davy, and Watt, and to others, who have explored the 
 secrets and explained the laws of nature ! They are
 
 192 
 
 ranked among the illustrious members and most valu- 
 able benefactors of their species. They are looked up 
 to with a kind of semi-idolatry, and their praises are 
 continually chanted for their vast achievements, not 
 only in adding to the stock of knowledge, but in accu- 
 mulating fresh honours upon human nature. What 
 sublime and astonishing facts are included in the sci- 
 ences of astronomy, optics, chemistry ! how much of 
 the power, wisdom, and goodness, of the divine Archi- 
 tect are displayed in the works of creation ! yet these 
 things are now hidden from a great portion of the re- 
 deemed, who, by the disadvantages of their education, 
 are shut out from these sources of knowledge. But 
 they will be admitted to them in heaven. Creation will 
 not be destroyed at the judgment day, but only purified. 
 The vast and splendid machine will not then be thrown 
 aside, broken up, and consigned to oblivion. Nothing 
 which the hand of the Creator hath framed shall be 
 forgotten. The brilliant scenes which are now passing 
 before our eyes, but on which many even regenerated 
 minds look without understanding them, are not a mere 
 pageant. Beautiful was the remark of the eminently 
 pious Bishop Hall, who, on being told in his old age 
 that his views of astronomy were not quite correct, re- 
 plied, " Well ! it may be so ; but I am soon going to 
 heaven, and as I shall take the stars in my way, I must 
 leave the subject till then, when every mistake will be 
 rectified." So completely will all the disadvantages of 
 our earthly condition be removed in heaven, whether 
 those disadvantages arise from the Christian being born 
 in an age when knowledge is in its infancy, or amidst 
 those privations of poverty which deny him access to 
 the sources of information. In the hour of death, the 
 pious but illiterate tenant of the cottage, on whose 
 mind the orb of science never rose, though the sun of 
 righteousness poured upon it the light of a spiritual 
 illumination, ascends above the disadvantages of edu- 
 cation, makes a glorious transition from the shades of 
 ignorance, in which he dwelt upon earth, into the cloud- 
 less transparency of the firmament on high. His na-
 
 tural faculties, compressed and enfeebled now by the 
 circumstances of his birth, shall then expand to a com- 
 prehension, and attain to a vigour, probably not sur- 
 passed by the loftiest of the human race ; and he, too, 
 shall know in heaven, the works of the God of nature, 
 as he knew below, and shall still better know above, 
 the works of the God of grace. 
 
 Providence will form another mighty range of inquiry, 
 and another source of delightful knowledge in heaven. 
 By providence, we mean God's moral government of 
 the universe the course of the divine administration 
 towards rational and moral creatures : that mighty 
 scheme, which commenced its application before time 
 was born, or the foundations of the earth were laid ; 
 which embraces the annals of other worlds besides ours ; 
 which includes the history of angels,, men, and devils. 
 Providence comprises the whole range of events, which 
 have taken place from the formation of the first creature, 
 to the last moment of time, with all the tendencies, rea- 
 sons, connexions, and results, of things ; the separate 
 existence of each individual, with the continuation and 
 influence of the whole, in one harmonious scheme. 
 Providence is now full of mysteries. We are puzzled 
 at almost every step. Innumerable are the events over 
 which, after having in vain endeavoured to sound their 
 depth with the line of our reason, we must exclaim, " O 
 the depth !" But we shall know all; why sin was per- 
 mitted, and how it entered, with all the attendant train 
 of incomprehensible results which followed its introduc- 
 tion into the moral universe. It will then be made ap- 
 parent to us, why so long a period elapsed between the 
 first promise of a Saviour, and his incarnation, suffer- 
 ings, and death : why, for so many ages, the world was 
 left in ignorance, sin, and misery : why such errors were 
 permitted to enter the church ; and so soon, and so ex- 
 tensively, to corrupt the simplicity and deform the beau- 
 ty of the Christian profession : why the man of Sin was 
 suffered to establish his seat in the temple of Christ ; to 
 exalt himself above all that is called God ; to utter his 
 blasphemy ; to shed the blood of the saints ; and so long 
 18
 
 194 
 
 to spread the clouds of superstition, and the shades of 
 death, over Christendom : why the impostor of Mecca 
 was allowed to arise, and for so many ages to render a 
 large portion of the earth inaccessible to the rays of the 
 Sun of Righteousness : why idolatry, with all its sangui- 
 nary deities, and all its bloody and obscene rites, was 
 left so long to insult the heavens, to pollute the earth, and 
 to curse mankind. What deep, unfathomable mysteries 
 are these ! How confounding to our reason, and how 
 utterly beyond our research ! What astonishment and 
 delight, what inconceivable emotions, will be produced 
 by the gradual unfolding of the mighty scheme, by the 
 progressive discoveries of the connexions and issues of 
 things, and the wondrous display of divine glory which 
 will be made by the whole. How shall we be enraptured 
 to find, that those events which now so confound us, 
 were dark only by excess of wisdom, and that those facts 
 which so often distressed us upon earth were 'but the 
 more sombre shades of the perfect picture ! What mani- 
 festations of Deity will then be made, when God shall 
 admit us to his cabinet, and lay open to us the arcana of 
 his government ! 
 
 And, doubtless, we shall not only see the harmony 
 and wisdom of Providence, in its general aspect and its 
 more comprehensive combinations and arrangements, 
 but in its particular bearing on our own private and per- 
 sonal history. ' The most important and interesting 
 chapter in the volume of universal history is, to us, that 
 which contains the record of our life. What clouds and 
 shadows still rest, and in the present state ever must rest, 
 upon our obscure and humble annals. How often is 
 Jehovah, in his dealings with us, a God that hideth him- 
 self! how often does he wrap himself in clouds, and pur- 
 sue his path upon the waters, where we can neither see 
 his goings nor trace his footsteps ! How many of his dis- 
 pensations are inexplicable ! and of his judgments, how 
 many aro unfathomable by the short line of our reason ! 
 But whatever we know not now, we shall know hereaf- 
 ter : the crooked will be made straight, the cloud of 
 darkness will be scattered, and all his conduct towards
 
 195 
 
 us placed in the broad daylight of eternity. We shall 
 see the connexion which our individual history bears 
 with the general scheme of providence ; and perceive 
 how, notwithstanding our insignificance, our existence 
 was no less necessary to the perfection of the whole 
 plan, than that of the great ones of the earth. We shall 
 see how all the varying and numerous, and seemingly 
 opposite, events of our history were combined into one 
 gracious purpose of mercy, which was most perfectly 
 wise in all its combinations : now we believe that " all 
 things work together for good;" then we shall see how 
 this end was accomplished by events, which, at the tune, 
 put us to so much grief, and involved us in so much sur- 
 prise. Delightful, most delightful will it be, to retrace 
 our winding and often gloomy course, and discern at 
 each change and turning the reason of the occurrence, 
 and the wisdom of God : delightful will it be, to discern 
 the influence which all our temporal circumstances, all 
 our disappointments, losses, and perplexities, had upon 
 our permanent and celestial happiness. How much of 
 divine wisdom, power, goodness, and faithfulness, will 
 our short and humble history present ; and what rap- 
 turous fervour will the discovery give to the song of 
 praise which we shall utter before the throne of God and 
 the Lamb. 
 
 Revelation, as containing the scheme of human re- 
 demption by Jesus Christ, will be another object of our 
 study, and source of knowledge. The Bible is given to 
 make God known ; and one page of the Bible, yea one 
 verse, makes known more of God than all the volume of 
 nature. But, after all, how little do we know of God, 
 of his essence, of his triune mode of subsistence, of his 
 natural perfections, of his moral attributes 1 What an 
 unfathomable mystery is Deity ! In what a pavilion of 
 darkness does Jehovah dwell ! Who, by searching, can 
 find out God ] In heaven we shall know him, for we 
 shall see him face to face ; we shall behold his glory, and 
 see him as he is. We shall have as perfect an acquaint- 
 ance with the divine character, as a finite mind can at- 
 tain to : and in this one object, shall find employment
 
 196 
 
 and bliss through eternity. We shall never exhaust this 
 theme. Eternity is necessary to study that which is in- 
 finite. 
 
 We shall there comprehend, so far as it can be done 
 by a finite mind, the complex person of Jesus Christ. 
 We cannot now understand this ; " great is the mystery 
 of Godliness, God manifest in the flesh ;" but what we 
 know not now, we shall know hereafter. Then will the 
 cross be seen, as the central point of the divine adminis- 
 tration, bright with ten thousand glories, and sending out 
 its beams to the extremity of the moral system. The 
 ruin of the world by its federal connexion with Adam ; 
 the election of the Jews, and the long abandonment of 
 the Gentiles ; the slow advance of Christianity to its 
 millennial reign and triumph; the bearing of redemption 
 upon other orders of beings beside man ; the difficulties 
 which hang like impenetrable clouds upon the doctrines 
 of personal election, regeneration, perseverance, the 
 freedom of the will viewed in connexion with divine pre- 
 science and predestination ; all, all will be laid open 
 to the view of glorified saints in heaven. Every thing 
 in the Scriptures, which is now dark, shall be made 
 light. A reconciling point shall be found for every 
 seeming contradiction, and the faith and patience of the 
 saints be rewarded, for having received the truth on the 
 credit of him who spoke it, without demanding to see 
 before they believed. 
 
 Such shall be the sources of knowledge in heaven. 
 O the bliss of eternally drinking in knowledge from 
 such fountains ! 
 
 We may now consider THE ADVANTAGES which the 
 heavenly state will possess for the acquisition of know- 
 ledge. 
 
 The soul will there be perfect in holiness, and thus the 
 understanding will be delivered from the disturbing and 
 bewildering influence of sin. In our present state of im- 
 perfection, the depravity of our nature contracts and 
 misdirects our judgment : the corruptions of the heart 
 send up a mist, which veils the lustre of truth, and con- 
 ceals its extent and glory from the mind. The judg-
 
 197 
 
 ment cannot now see spiritual objects in all their range, 
 and order, and beauty, because of sin. But in heaven 
 this contracting and darkening influence will cease for 
 ever. No evil bias, no sinful prejudice, will ever warp 
 the judgment : no disease of the soul will dim its eye or 
 enfeeble its power. With eagle pinion it will soar to 
 the fountain of radiance, and with eagle vision bear the 
 full blaze of its glory. The natural faculty of the mind 
 will then attain to its full maturity of strength. The mind 
 is here in its infancy : there it will come to its age. Even 
 the intellects of the greatest geniuses, while on earth, 
 are but human minds in childhood, as we have already 
 considered, and their most prodigious efforts but as in- 
 fantine exercises. Here they only tried their powers : 
 but in heaven the mind will put forth to their full extent 
 all those wondrous faculties which are now shut up and 
 compressed in our nature, for want of room and oppor- 
 tunity to expand. In heaven, we shall not be diverted 
 and called off from the pursuit of truth by the inferior in- 
 terests of the body : the soul will not be prevented from 
 making excursions into the regions of light, by the cares, 
 wants, and anxieties, which abound in this state of being, 
 but will be left at leisure to pursue her sublime re- 
 searches. She will have nothing to hinder the acquire- 
 ment and enjoyment of knowledge. To crown all, 
 heaven is an eternal state, and everlasting ages will be 
 afforded through which the glorified mind will carry on 
 its pursuits. Were the term of human life again pro- 
 tracted to the antediluvian age, what vast attainments 
 would be made by us all in the discovery of truth ! What, 
 then, must it be to have eternity through which to grow 
 in knowledge 1 
 
 We might notice the CHARACTERS of our knowledge, 
 It will be perfect : by which we are not to understand 
 that it will be as complete as the nature of things admits 
 of, for we should then possess a comprehension equal 
 to that of God. We cannot perfectly know every thing 
 as it may be known : our ideas of many things must be 
 limited, especially those which relate to the divine na- 
 ture. By perfection, we mean freedom from error : 
 18*
 
 198 
 
 our knowledge will be free from all admixture of doubt, 
 suspense, and fallacy ; our attainments will be bounded 
 only by our capacity ; there will, perhaps, be a grada- 
 tion of mind in heaven, no less obviously marked than 
 that which exists on earth ; but all capacities will be 
 filled. 
 
 Our knowledge will doubtless be progressive. In- 
 crease of ideas is, perhaps, in the case of a creature, 
 essential to felicity. We now find more pleasure in re- 
 ceiving a new and important truth, than we experience 
 in all we before possessed. A state in which there re- 
 mains nothing more to be known, conveys not an idea 
 of happiness so vividly as that where the delight of dis- 
 covering something new is ever added to the joy of con- 
 templating so much that is old. What a view of hea- 
 ven ! An eternal advance in the most important know- 
 ledge ; an everlasting accumulation of ideas ; an inter- 
 minable progression in truth. In the march of the 
 mind through intellectual and moral perfection, there is 
 no period set : this perfection of the just is for ever car- 
 rying on is carrying on, but shall never come to a 
 close. God shall behold his creation for ever beautify- 
 ing in his eyes, for ever drawing near to himself, yet 
 still infinitely distant from him, the fountain of all good- 
 ness. There is not in religion a more joyful or tri- 
 umphant consideration than this perpetual progress 
 which the soul makes in the perfection of its nature, 
 without ever arriving at its ultimate period. Here truth 
 has the advantage of fable. No fiction, however bold, 
 presents to us a conception so elevating and astonishing 
 as this interminable line of heavenly excellence. To 
 look upon the glorified spirit, as going on from strength 
 to strength, adding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to 
 knowledge ; making approaches to goodness which is 
 infinite ; for ever adorning the heavens with new beau- 
 ties, and brightening in the splendours of moral glory 
 through the ages of eternity ; has something in it so 
 transcendent, as to satisfy the most unbounded ambition 
 of an immortal spirit. Christian ! does not thy heart 
 glow at the thought that there is a time marked out in
 
 199 
 
 the annals of heaven, when thou shalt be what the an- 
 gels now are ; when thou shalt shine with that glory in 
 which principalities now appear ; and when, in full 
 communion with the Most High, thou shalt " see him 
 as he is ?" 
 
 How our knowledge in heaven will be acquired, whe- 
 ther by testimony, by immediate revelation, or by some 
 method of mental application, it would be idle to spe- 
 culate. We know that whatever mode is determined 
 upon by God, will promote, and not interrupt, our feli- 
 city ; we shall have nothing of the weariness of study 
 nothing of the anxiety of doubt nothing of the 
 torture of suspense. Ideas will flow into the soul with 
 the same ease and pleasure on our part as rays of light 
 come to the bodily eye. 
 
 Whatever knowledge we gain in heaven will be 
 transforming : it will not be mere opinion, or uninflu- 
 ential speculation. All our ideas will be as fuel, to feed 
 the flame of love, which will then burn upon the altar 
 of the soul : all will be quickening, penetrating, influ- 
 ential. Our opinions will be principles of action. 
 Every thing will lead us to see more of God, to love 
 him with a more intense glow of holy affection, and to 
 be more conformed to him. The light of truth will 
 ever be associated with the warmth of love. " We 
 shall be like God, for we shall see him as he is." 
 
 It is difficult to find, in the volume of revelation, a 
 stronger internal evidence of its divine original, than the 
 view it gives of the celestial state, combining, as it does, 
 the perfection of knowledge and of purity. Every 
 other representation which has been given of heaven, 
 bears the mark of an earthly source, the proof of be- 
 ing a human device. As, in seeking for a Deity, man 
 found the prototype in his own passions, when .he had 
 abandoned the one living and true God ; so, in forming 
 a heaven, he collected all the materials from the objects 
 of his own fleshly delights. The Elysium of the Greeks 
 and the Romans ; the Hall of the Scandinavians ; the 
 Paradise of the Mahometans ; the fantastic abodes of 
 the departed Hindoos ; are all adapted to their de-
 
 200 
 
 praved appetites, and were suggested by their corrupt 
 imaginations. Beyond the pleasures of a seraglio, of 
 a field of glory, or of a hall resounding with the shout 
 of victory beyond the gratification of sense man, 
 when left to himself, never looked for the happiness 
 which is to constitute his paradise. A heaven made up 
 of perfect knowledge, and of perfect love, is a vision 
 entirely and exclusively divine, and which never beam- 
 ed upon the human understanding till the splendid 
 image came upon it from the word of God. How 
 worthy of God is such a representation of celestial 
 bliss ! It is an emanation from his own nature, as thus 
 described : " God is light : God is love." The glo- 
 rious reality is evidently the provision of his own wis- 
 dom and grace ; and the sublime description of it in 
 the Scriptures, is as evidently the delineation of his own 
 finger.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE PRE-EMINENCE OF LOVE. 
 
 " Now abide these three, Faith, Hope, Charity ; but the greatest of 
 these is Charity." 
 
 SUCH is the triune nature of true religion, as de- 
 scribed by an inspired penman ; of that religion about 
 which myriads of volumes have been written, and so 
 many controversies have been agitated. How short 
 and how simple the account ; within how narrow a 
 compass does it lie ; and how easily understood, might 
 one have expected, would have been a subject expressed 
 in terms so familiar as these. This beautiful verse has 
 furnished the arts with one of their most exquisite sub- 
 jects : poets have sung the praises of faith, hope, and 
 charity ; the painter has exhibited the holy three in all 
 the glowing colours of his pencil ; and the sculptor has 
 given them in the pure and almost breathing forms of 
 his marble ; while the orator has employed them as the 
 ornaments of his eloquence. But our orators, poets, 
 sculptors, and painters, have strangely misunderstood 
 them, and too often proved that they knew nothing of 
 them but as the abstractions of their genius : what they 
 presented to the eye were mere earthly forms, which 
 bore no resemblance to these divine and spiritual 
 graces : and multitudes have gazed, with admiration 
 kindling into rapture, on the productions of the artist,
 
 202 
 
 who at the same time had no taste for the virtues de- 
 scribed by the Apostle. Religion is a thing essentially 
 different from a regard to classic elegance ; not indeed 
 that it is opposed to it, for, as it refines the heart, it may 
 be supposed to exert a favourable influence on the un- 
 derstanding, and by correcting the moral taste, to give 
 a still clearer perception of the sublime and the beau- 
 tiful. It is greatly to be questioned, however, whether 
 religion has not received more injury than benefit from 
 the fine arts ; whether men have not become carelessly 
 familiar with the more awful realities of truth, by the 
 exhibition of the poet, the painter, and the engraver ; 
 and whether they have not mistaken those sensibilities 
 which have been awakened by a contemplation of the 
 more tender and touching scenes of revelation, as de- 
 scribed upon the canvass or the marble, for the emo- 
 tions of true piety. Perhaps the " Paradise Lost" has 
 done very little to produce any serious concern to avoid 
 everlasting misery ; " The Descent from the Cross" 
 by Rubens, or the " Transfiguration" by Raphael, as 
 little, to draw the heart to the great objects of Chris- 
 tianity. Innumerable representations, and many of 
 them very splendid productions too, have been given of 
 Faith, Hope, and Charity; and doubtless by these 
 means many kindly emotions have been called for 
 awhile into exercise, which, after all, were nothing but 
 a transient effect of the imagination upon the feelings. 
 It is of vast consequence that we should recollect that 
 no affections are entitled to the character of religion, 
 but such as are excited by a distinct perception of re- 
 vealed truth. It is not the emotion awakened by a 
 picture presented to the eye, nor by a sound addressed 
 to the ear, but by the contemplation of a fact, or a 
 statement, laid before the mind, that constitutes piety. 
 We now proceed to the subject of this chapter. 
 
 FAITH is the belief of testimony, accompanied, if the 
 testimony be delivered by a living individual, by a dis- 
 position to deuend upon his veracity ; and, if it relate 
 to something in which we are interested, with an ex- 
 pectation of the fulfilment of the promise. In refer-
 
 , 203 
 
 ence to spiritual things, it means a firm persuasion of 
 the truth of what God has revealed in his word. 
 " Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evi- 
 dence of things not seen :" or, as the passage is ren- 
 dered by some, " Faith is the confidence of things 
 hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." It is a 
 belief, not only that the Bible is true, but of the truth 
 contained in the Bible : it is not merely a perception of 
 the evidences of Christianity, as a divine revelation, but 
 also a perception of the truth of its doctrines. General 
 faith, means a belief of all that God has revealed in the 
 Scriptures, whether it be invitation or promise, com- 
 mand or threatening, prophecy or history ; and it is this 
 that the Apostle describes in the eleventh chapter of the 
 Epistle to the Hebrews. Faith in Christ, or justifying 
 faith, relates to that part of the divine word which tes- 
 tifies concerning the person and work of the Redeemer. 
 Saving belief takes into its view everything contained in 
 the Word of^God, but its special object is the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, as the Son of God and the Saviour of the 
 world : just as the eye of a condemned criminal, at the 
 place of execution, beholds the assembled multitude, 
 the fatal tree, and the messenger whom he sees hasten- 
 ing with the reprieve ; but it is on the latter that his 
 view is fixed with the greatest steadiness and delight. 
 Faith in Christ, then, is a full persuasion of the truth 
 of the glorious Gospel concerning Him, accompanied 
 by a full confidence in his veracity, and an expectation 
 of the fulfilment of his word. It is not a mere notion, 
 a purely intellectual act ; but certainly implies an ex- 
 ercise of the will. It is the belief of something spoken 
 by a living person, and necessarily involves a confidence 
 in his veracity ; it is something interesting to us, and 
 must contain expectation. Hence it is represented by 
 the Apostle as synonymous with the act of committing 
 the soul into the hands of Christ. " I know whom I 
 have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep 
 that which I have committed to him." If it were a purely 
 intellectual act, how could it be the subject of com-
 
 204 
 
 -v? % 
 
 'mand or the matter of duty 1 For can that which is 
 exclusively mental contain either moral good or evil 1 
 If faith be purely intellectual, must not unbelief, its op- 
 posite, be the same 1 But it is said, that as the disposi- 
 tion influences the judgment, and leads to either faith 
 or unbelief, according to the state of the heart, the mo- 
 ral excellence of one, and the turpitude of the other, 
 arises from its cause. But is not the Scripture most 
 explicit in its condemnation of unbelief, as evil in itself ; 
 and in its commendation of faith, as morally excellent ? 
 The question is not what is the meaning of the term 
 faith, as employed by metaphysicians, but as employed 
 by the Apostles ; and this meaning can be gathered 
 only from their writings, in which many terms are em- 
 ployed with a signification somewhat different to that 
 in which they are employed in ordinary discourse. 
 Justification, for instance, in reference to ordinary af- 
 fairs, means the act of declaring an accused person to 
 be innocent of the charge brought against him ; but, 
 as the term is used by the sacred writers, means no- 
 thing more than treating a person acknowledged to be 
 guilty, as righteous, for the sake of the righteousness 
 of Christ. 
 
 Faith is not that which constitutes the ground of our 
 acceptance with God, but which places us upon that 
 ground ; it is not our justifying righteousness, but that 
 which unites us to Christ, and appropriates his righte- 
 ousness to ourselves. It is true that a different view 
 seems to be given by the Apostle, when he says, quoting 
 the Old Testament expression, " Abraham believed 
 God, and it was counted to him for righteousness." It 
 would seem from hence, and so it has been contended, 
 that his faith was accepted in lieu of his obedience, as 
 the matter of his righteousness, and the ground of his 
 acceptance with God. But a more correct translation 
 of the passage will rectify this mistake, and prevent 
 what must be considered a fundamental error on the 
 very important doctrine of justification by faith. " Abra- 
 ham believed God, and it was reckoned to him ' to,'
 
 205 
 
 e in ordertd,' or * towards,' his justification."* It is not, 
 then, for our faith, but by it, that we are justified : faith, 
 as an act of ours, is no more the meritorious ground of 
 our justification than any other of our performances ; 
 for, if it were, we should still be justified by works, as 
 faith is as much a work as penitence. The Apostle is 
 sufficiently explicit on this head, where he says, " But 
 now the righteousness of God without law is manifested, 
 being witnessed by the law and the. : prophets ; even the 
 righteousness of God by faith of Jesus Christ unto all 
 and upon all them that believe." " To him that work- 
 eth not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, 
 his faith is reckoned towards justification." " By the 
 obedience of one shall many be made righteous." 
 " Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every 
 one that believeth." 
 
 HOPE is the desire and expectation of those future 
 good things which God has promised in his word. 
 Faith believes the promise, hope desires its fulfilment. 
 It is essential to hope, that its object be some good 
 thing, either supposed or real ; for no one can desire 
 that which is evil, as evil : and its object must be some- 
 thing future ; for who expects that of which he is al- 
 ready in possession 1 Desire, without expectation, is 
 either mere wishing, or else despondency ; expectation, 
 without desire, is either indifference or dread : the 
 union of both constitutes hope. The object of Chris- 
 tian hope is thus stated by the Apostles : " Beloved, 
 
 * Great efforts have been made by the opponents of the imputation 
 of Christ's righteousness to believers for their justification, and espe- 
 cially by M'Knight, to overturn this doctrine, by the aid of the text we 
 are now considering. This critic thought he had found in this passage 
 a triumphant proof that our own faith, or act of believing, and not 
 Christ's obedience unto death, constitutes our justifying righteousness, 
 in lieu of our own good works. It is a little remarkable that so acute a 
 critic should have overlooked the force of the Greek preposition (ttr,) 
 not only as established by other scholars, but by himself: for in his pre- 
 liminary Essay on the meaning of Greek Particles, which he has pre- 
 fixed to his Exposition of the Epistle to the Romans, although he gives 
 fourteen different but harmonious renderings of this preposition, the 
 meaning of " for," or, "in lieu of," has no place. We have " con- 
 cerning," " in order to," " towards," but not " for:" and yet he has 
 given it this meaning in the text. 
 
 19
 
 206 
 
 now are we the sons of God ; and it doth not yet ap- 
 pear what we shall be, but we know that when he shall 
 appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he 
 is ; and every man that hath this hope in him" [in 
 Christ] " purifieth himself, even as he is pure." Paul 
 represents it as that which the whole rational creation 
 has groaned after, ever since the entrance of sin into 
 the world. " I reckon that the sufferings of this pre- 
 sent time are not worthy to be compared with the glory 
 that shall be revealed in us. For the earnest expecta- 
 tion of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the 
 sons of God. For the creature was made subject to 
 vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath 
 subjected the same in hope, because the creature itself 
 also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption 
 into the glorious liberty of the children of God. For 
 we know that the whole creation groaneth and travail- 
 eth in pain together until now. And not only they, 
 but ourselves also, which have the first-fruits of the Spi- 
 rit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting 
 for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of the body. 
 For we are saved by hope : but' hope that is seen is not 
 hope ; for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for ? 
 But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with 
 patience wait for it."* 
 
 * Rom. viii. 18 25. This passage has been thought to contain in- 
 explicable difficulties, and to have been in the mind of the Apostle 
 Peter when he spoke of the things hard to be understood in the writings 
 of Paul. Upon this text some huve raised the benevolent, but, as it 
 strikes me, the groundless, hypothesis of the resurrection of the brute 
 creation. If we are willing to be guided by the generally acknowledged 
 canon of interpretation, of explaining a difficult passage by the context, 
 we shall find a light which will conduct us through the intricacies of 
 this text, and illuminate our course as we proceed. If wo examine the 
 context, we shall find, both from what precedes and whfet follows, that 
 the Apostle is speaking of the future happiness of the righteous. The 
 passage is introduced thus : " / reckon that the sufferings of this present 
 time are not worthy to be compared with the %'ury that shall be revealed in 
 ut;" then follows th expression, " for the earnest expectation of the 
 creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God ;" or, as it might 
 be rendered, " looketh for the revelation of the sons of God; r i. e. tho 
 glory to be revealed, of which he had just spoken. Next comes a pa- 
 renthetical description of the present earthly and temporal condition of 
 the moral creation, and how it was brought into this condition. " For
 
 207 
 
 Christian hope is not a mere feeble and fluctuating 
 expectation of eternal happiness, partaking more of the 
 nature of uncertainty than of confidence ; for it is, by 
 
 the creature was made subject to vanity ;" i. e. to the misery of this 
 present world, terminating in death ; "not willingly" not on account 
 of their own personal transgression, " but by him who hath subjected the 
 same;'' i. e. Adam, their natural root and federal head. The expression, 
 " in hope, 1 ' should be taken from the end of the twentieth verse, and 
 placed at the commencement of the twenty-first ; the conjunction (on) 
 should be translated " that," instead of " because ;" and the twenty- 
 first verse, connected with the nineteenth, allowing for the intervening 
 parenthesis, would thus read ; " The earnest expectation of the creature 
 lookethfor the revelation of the sons of God ; in hope that the creature shall 
 be delivered from the bondage of corruption ;" i. e. death ; to which the 
 Apostle afterwards opposes '' the redemption of the body," or the resur- 
 rection into the glorious liberty of the children of God. " For we 
 know that the whole creation," or every rational creature, " groaneth and 
 travaileth in pain together until now, And not only t hey ; i e. the whole 
 heathen world ; " but ourselves," the believers in the Gospel of Christ, 
 " who have received the first-fruits of the Spirit, groan within ourselves, 
 waiting for the adoption, namely, the redemption of our body," the resur- 
 rection, and consequent full revelation, of our dignity and immortal 
 glory as the sons of God. 
 
 Such is the meaning of this passage, in which the Apostle, to give im- 
 portance to the subject of future glory, represents it as the object of 
 longing desire to the whole rational creation, the various tribes of which 
 are exhibited as lifting up their heads from beneath the bondage of mi- 
 sery and death, and directing an exploring eye and eager hope towards 
 IMMORTALITY ; as that alone which could relieve their sorrows, and 
 satisfy their desires. They knew not with certamty that there was such 
 a slate ; their notions were obscure and fluctuating ; it was rather a 
 wish than a belief : but it was that which they may be truly said to have 
 groaned after, as what alone could compensate for the sorrows an.d the 
 brevity of human life. It is no objection to this view of the passage, 
 to say that the heathen could be scarcely said, in their state of igno- 
 rance, to hope to be delivered " from the bondage of corruption into the 
 glorious liberty of the sons of God :" for things are frequently set forth 
 by the sacred writers, not as they are actually contemplated by the per- 
 sons in connexion with whom they are introduced, but as they are in 
 themselves. Thus, Christ is called the " desire of all nations ," not 
 that all nations really desired him, but desired happiness, which his ad- 
 vent alone could introduce. So, in this case, every creature longs for 
 that immortality, or future state of happiness, which is in itself, though 
 not contemplated as such by them, the glorious revelation of the sons 
 of God. This most striking and beautiful passage has no reference to 
 the brute creation, as groaning under the effects of man's sin, and from, 
 which they will be delivered by a resurrection ; no reference to any 
 physical change to be produced during the Millennium in the material 
 world, now by a bold figure represented as burdened and pained by hu- 
 man guilt ; for what has this to do with the context, or with the design 
 of the Apostle, which is to comfort believers under the sufferings of this 
 mortal state ? but it relates to that glory, honour, and eternal life,
 
 208 
 
 a beautiful figure of speech, called a sure and stedfast 
 anchor ; and in other places, without a figure, it is call- 
 ed a lively hope, a good hope, and a confident one ; 
 and we are also admonished to go on to the full assur- 
 ance of hope : expressions, especially the last, which 
 amount to the highest degree of confident and trium- 
 phant expectation. Many Christians seem to err on 
 this subject, by supposing that the grace of which we 
 are now speaking, means nothing more than a state of 
 mind, partaking of so much doubt, as leaves them very 
 little above the level of absolute despondency. Hope 
 must ever be in proportion to our faith ; if the latter be 
 weak, the former will inevitably be so too. 
 
 It will be perceived, that although these three graces 
 are, in some respects, very different, yet there are 
 others in which they have points of strong resemblance. 
 Faith has something of the expectation of hope, and 
 hope something of the desire of love. Hope touches 
 faith at the point of expectation ; love touches hope at 
 the point of desire : and thus, like the colours of the 
 rainbow, maintain their distinction, while, at the same 
 time, they soften down into each other by almost insen- 
 sible degrees. 
 
 But how are we to understand the Apostle, when he 
 says, " there remain these three ?" He here alludes to 
 the miraculous operations of the primitive church, and 
 contrasts with their transient existence the permanent 
 continuance in the Christian church of these cardinal 
 virtues. Miracles were introduced to establish the 
 credibility of the Gospel testimony, and having delivered 
 their evidence, retired for ever ; but faith, and hope, 
 and love, are to remain as the very essentials of true 
 religion. Particular forms of church government are 
 only the attire which piety wears, or the habitation in 
 which it dwells ; but these graces are the body, soul, and 
 
 which God has promised to them that love him ; in reference to which 
 he so sublimely affirms, " Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, 
 worketh out for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." 
 The view here giveu is that which is taken also by Hammond and 
 M 'Knight.
 
 209 
 
 spirit, of vital religion. When these are no longer to 
 be found on earth, godliness may be said to be retired 
 and gone. 
 
 But are. these the only Christian virtues which have 
 outlived the age of miracles, and which are destined still 
 to live and flourish on the earth 1 Certainly not. Peni- 
 tence, temperance ; yea, whatsoever things are true ; 
 whatsoever things are honest; whatsoever things are 
 just ; whatsoever things are lovely ; whatsoever things 
 are of good report; are as permanent and as strong in 
 their obligations, as faith, and hope, and love : but these 
 three either represent, or imply, or excel, all others. 
 They are the main trunk, from which all others issue 
 as the branches, and by which they are supported. 
 
 " Now abideth faith, hope, charity ; but the greatest 
 of these is charity !" Love among the Christian virtues 
 is, as poets have described Gabriel among archangels, a 
 seraph loftier than all the seraph train. But we are not 
 to suppose that it was the Apostle's intention to depre- 
 ciate the value and importance of the other two. What 
 can be more important and necessary than the faith by 
 which we are united to Christ, and justified in the sight 
 of God ; by which we purify our hearts and overcome 
 the world] Turn to the eleventh chapter to the He- 
 brews, where the sacred writer seems to conduct you 
 into the temple of Christianity; and after exhibiting the 
 names, and the statues, and the recorded deeds, of the 
 heroes of the church, and displaying before you the 
 spoils they have won in the battles of the Lord, says to 
 you, " Behold the triumphs of faith !" Faith is the means 
 of love : hence said the Apostle, " Faith, which worketh 
 by love." Nor could it be his intention to depreciate 
 hope, which is called, "the anchor of the soul, both sure 
 and stedfast, which entereth into that within the veil :" 
 of which it is said, " we are saved by hope ;" and every 
 man that hath this hope, " purifieth himself, even as he 
 is pure." 
 
 Much less are we warranted, from this expression, 
 to select love, as the exclusive object of our pursuit, and 
 to cultivate it to the neglect of the other two. Separate 
 19*
 
 210 
 
 from them it can have no existence. Any attempt to 
 build it up without them, is like the effort to raise a su- 
 perstructure without a foundation. " Jldd to your faith, 
 brotherly kindness and charity," says the Apostle. It 
 is only as we believe the testimony of God's love to us, 
 which is contained in the Gospel, that we can possess 
 Christian charity to our fellow-men. 
 
 What the Apostle means is, that there are some views 
 of love, in which it must be allowed to possess a higher de- 
 gree of moral excellence than either faith or hope. 
 
 1. It is the END which faith and hope are the means of 
 producing. Love is what might be called an ultimate 
 virtue ; but faith and hope subordinate ones. Justifica- 
 tion itself is but part of the divine means for bringing the 
 soul of man into a state of moral perfection. The ulti- 
 mate end to be obtained by redemption is the restora- 
 tion of the image of God to the human spirit ; and par- 
 don is the introductory and subsidiary means. Hence 
 faith, by which we are justified, is an exercise of mind, 
 which produces, and is intended to produce, in us a con- 
 formity to the divine character. It is not a grace which 
 terminates hi itself, without being calculated or designed 
 to originate and support any thing else, which is the 
 case with love. Sanctity is the end of truth: so our 
 Lord teaches us " Sanctify them by the truth." The 
 truth is received into the mind by faifti, that it may im- 
 part sanctity, which includes love. Similar remarks 
 will apply to hope, of which it is said, " Every man that 
 hath this hope in him purifieth himself." Christian 
 charity, then, attains this eminence by being the ulti- 
 mate virtue, to which the other two refer. It is that 
 moral condition of the soul, which it is the aim and pur- 
 pose of all things to produce. 
 
 2. Jjove is a SOCIAL grace, while faith and hope are ex- 
 crciaed in reference to ourselves. We believe and hope, 
 with au immediate regard to our own happiness ; but in 
 the exercise of love, we regard the happiness of man- 
 kind. Christian charity is a constant efllux of benevo- 
 lent feeling, from the pure fountain of a heart devoted to 
 the well-being of our species ; faith and hope are the
 
 211 
 
 channels by which we receive the streams of peace and 
 joy, from the fulness of God. By the latter, we are 
 recipients of happiness ; by the former we are its distri- 
 butors : by believing, we rejoice ; by loving, we awaken 
 the joys of others : by one, we become the heirs of 
 salvation, who are ministered to by angels ; by the other, 
 we become ministering angels in our turn. What a 
 philanthropist must that man be, who cultivates, and 
 carries to even a tolerable perfection, the disposition so 
 beautifully described in this chapter, and who displays 
 all its properties in his intercourse with society : how 
 must such an individual bless all with whom he has to 
 do ; as he pursues his holy career, sorrow is alleviated, 
 care is mitigated, want supplied, wickedness reformed 
 by his efforts : the groans of creation are hushed, and 
 the tears of humanity wiped away, by his divine 
 charity ; and he becomes, in his measure, like that hea- 
 venly visitant in our world, of whom it is said, "He went 
 about doing good." 
 
 Survey with admiration and delight the mighty ope- 
 rations, and the splendid achievements, of this powerful 
 and benevolent principle, as they are to be seen within, 
 and only within, the hallowed pale of Christianity. 
 What are all the numerous and diversified institutions 
 in our own land, where houseless poverty has found a 
 home ; craving hunger, a supply ; forsaken infancy, a 
 protector; helpless age, a refuge ; ignorance, an instruc- 
 tor ; penitence, a comforter ; virtue a defence ; but 
 the triumphs and glories of love 1 What are all those 
 sublime combinations of human energies, property, and 
 influence, which have been formed for the illumination, 
 reformation, and salvation of the human race ? what 
 Bible Societies, Missionary Societies, Tract Societies, 
 Anti-slavery Societies, Peace Societies, but the mighty 
 monuments of that love, " which seeketh not her own, 
 and is kind !" What are the tears of commiseration, 
 which flow for human sorrows, but the drops that fall 
 from the eye of love ? What the joy that is excited by 
 the sight of happiness, but the smiles of love ? What 
 was it that made the great Apostle of the Gentiles will-
 
 212 
 
 ing, not only to bear any accumulation of suffering, in- 
 dignity, and reproach, but to pour out his blood as a 
 libation for others, and even to be accursed from Christ 
 for his kinsmen, and mankind in general 1 Love ! 
 What is it that renders the modern missionary willing 
 to go into perpetual exile, from the land of his fathers 
 and of his birth, to spend the future years of his life, 
 and find, at last, a grave amidst the sands of Africa, or 
 the snows of Greenland ; willing to exchange the socie- 
 ty and polished intercourse of Europeans, for savages, 
 whose minds are brutishly ignorant, and whose man- 
 ners are disgustingly offensive ; willing to quit the land 
 of Sabbaths, and of Bibles, and of churches, for regions 
 over which the demon of superstition has extended his 
 horrid sway, and beneath whose yoke nothing is to be 
 seen, but orgies, in which lust and cruelty struggle for 
 pre-eminence ] Love ! What was it that breathed into 
 the heart of HOWARD that spirit which so filled and fired 
 his imagination with visions of human misery, and which 
 brought from so many dungeons the plaintive cry, 
 " Come over and help us !" that he could no longer 
 rest in his own house, or in his own country, but tra- 
 velled, again and again, across the breadth of Europe, 
 in quest of wretchedness ; descending into the captive's 
 cell, that he might weigh his fetters, and measure his 
 narrow apartment, and examine his food, to ascertain 
 whether there was not more of misery in his hapless 
 and forgotten lot, than justice demanded for the punish- 
 ment of his crime ; who inhaled the infected atmos- 
 phere of the lazaretto, to grapple with the plague that 
 fell destroyer of the human race, to approach which 
 seemed to be courting death ? It was Love that formed 
 the character of that illustrious man, and presented 
 him to the notice and admiration of the civilized world. 
 What was it that gave courage, confidence, and self- 
 denial, to that EXTRAORDINARY WOMAN, who ventured 
 among the furies of Newgate, where, if she had not 
 cause to fear that assassins would attempt her life, she 
 must have calculated upon finding a sort of demons, 
 whose malignity, excited by the purity and virtue which
 
 213 
 
 seemed to set in stronger light, by the power of con- 
 trast, their own vices, would vent its rage on the angel 
 form which had disturbed them 1 If ever the form and 
 the beauty of charity were seen in one of our species, 
 it was in Mrs. FRY when she entered the cells of our 
 metropolitan'prison, and called their vicious and loath- 
 some inmates round her, to be instructed and reformed. 
 And what is it that makes ten thousand holy men and 
 women employ themselves continually in all kinds of 
 self-denying exertions, to instruct the ignorant, to re- 
 lieve the miserable, to reform the wicked 1 These, O 
 heavenly Charity ! are thy works, the displays of thy 
 excellences, and proofs of thy pre-eminence ! 
 
 3. It is a distinguished excellence of love, that it is a 
 likeness to God. We are not at all surprised that the phi- 
 losopher to whom the question was proposed, " What 
 is God ?' should have requested a day to prepare his 
 answer ; and when that was expired, should have asked 
 a second, and a third, and should have at length con- 
 fessed to the reproving monarch who proposed the que- 
 ry, that the more he examined the more he was confoun- 
 ded; and the farther he penetrated, the deeper and deeper 
 he seemed plunging into darkness and mystery. Reve- 
 lation has come to the aid of feeble reason, and, com- 
 pared with the latter, has thrown a blaze of radiance 
 on the all-important subject : and yet, with the light of 
 truth shining around us, so little do we understand of 
 God, that he may be said, as it respects us, to " make 
 darkness his pavilion ;" for " who by searching can find 
 out God who can find out the Almighty to perfection 1" 
 Of his essence we know nothing : of his eternity, om- 
 niscience, and omnipotence, next to nothing, as to any 
 comprehension of them. His moral perfections are, it 
 is true, more easily understood by us ; but as these are 
 all infinite, it is but little even of these that we can un- 
 derstand. " He is a rock, his way is perfect, without 
 iniquity, just and right is he." Inflexible justice, im- 
 maculate purity, inviolable truth, unimpeachable fidelity, 
 belong to him ; but if this were all the view the Scrip- 
 tures gave us of his attributes, if the delineation of the
 
 214 
 
 divine character stopped here, how much would be 
 wanting to the sinner's comfort ? Can the trembling and 
 condemned criminal take much pleasure in contempla- 
 ting the power, the justice, and the truth of the judge, 
 who holds his destiny in his hand, at least till he knows 
 whether that judge have mercy also in his heart, and in 
 his prerogative? And as little would it comfort us to 
 know all the other attributes of Deity, if we would not 
 exultingly exclaim, in the language of the Apostle, 
 " GOD is LOVE !" Sublime and heart-reviving decla- 
 ration ! never was anything uttered more calculated to 
 delight the soul of man. Such a view of Deity is pecu- 
 liar to revelation. Idolatry, in all her strange devices, 
 in all her image-making processes, never conceived of 
 such a God : power, wisdom, justice, truth, have all re- 
 ceived their appropriate symbols of divinity, and have 
 been worshipped under material forms, but benevolence 
 had no statue, no temple, no priest. It was too pure a 
 conception for the human heart, and too elevated an 
 idea for human reason. " God is love !" This refers 
 not, of course, to his essence, but to his character. It 
 means, that benevolence is his whole moral character : 
 not only that his nature is one sum of infinite excellence, 
 but that his conduct is one mighty impulse to that which 
 is good ; in other words, that the divine disposition is an 
 infinite propensity to delight in happiness, as already ex- 
 isting, or to produce it where it does not exist. But be 
 it recollected, that the benevolence of God is the love 
 of a governor or ruler, and not merely that of a philan- 
 thropist, or a father ; and who, in the exercise of his 
 good-will to any particular part, cannot sacrifice the 
 welfare of the whole; and, consequently, whose benevo- 
 lence is not only compatible with the exercise of retribu- 
 tive justice, but requires it. 
 
 Such is the disposition of that divine mind, to which, 
 by Christian love, we are conformed : that benevolence 
 of the Deity, which, in its propensity to delight in hap- 
 piness, and to create it, makes him infinite in patience, 
 to bear with the millions of crimes which daily insult and 
 provoke him ; infinite in mercy to pardon the most ag-
 
 215 
 
 gravated transgressions ; infinite in kindness to provide 
 for the wants and comforts of his creatures. The high- 
 est pre-eminence in Christian love : the richest gem in 
 its crown of honour, is its resemblance to God. There 
 is nothing remotely analagous to faith, or hope, in the 
 divine nature. He that is omniscient, cannot be said 
 to believe ; nor he that is infinitely blessed, and possess- 
 ed of a divine fulness, be said to hope : but he can and 
 does love. Resemblance to God is the highest glory of 
 man. We should esteem it an honour to bear a faint 
 impress of some of the more distinguished of the human 
 race. It would be thought a high compliment, to have 
 it said that our genius resembled that of Milton, and our 
 benevolence that of Howard : that our faith was like 
 Abraham's, or our meekness akin to that of Moses ; but 
 how much greater is the distinction to bear, by love, the 
 image of GOD. 
 
 5. Love is eternal in its duration ; it ascends with us 
 to the skies, to live in our hearts, as the temper of our 
 souls, for ever and ever. It is questioned by some, 
 whether the other two graces will cease in the celestial 
 state. It has been contended, that as the glories of the 
 divine nature are illimitable and innumerable, and the 
 glorified mind will not attain to a perfect knowledge of 
 these at once, but be continually receiving fresh com- 
 munications on this vast theme, there must be both faith 
 and hope in heaven ; for as we successively receive these, 
 we must believe in the assurance of those which are to 
 come, and must perpetually look forward with expecta- 
 tion and desire. But does not this assume what cannot 
 be proved tjiat our knowledge of God and divine 
 things will be communicated in heaven by testimony, 
 and not be acquired by intuition ] It is not at all neces- 
 sary that our growing knowledge, our eternally accu- 
 mulating ideas, should be thus conveyed to us ; for they 
 may for aught we know, be the reward of pleasant stu- 
 dy, or they may flow into the mind, as the ideas of sen- 
 sation do into the soul, without any effort, and may also 
 come with all the certainty of that intuition by which 
 we perceive the truth of axioms. To say that this is
 
 216 
 
 belief, is to confound two things essentially distinct, 
 knowledge and faith. So that it does not appear plain, 
 that faith, in any sense of the term, will exist in heaven. 
 But though it could he proved that, in some modification 
 of the term, it would he exercised in the celestial state, 
 such a belief would differ so materially from that which 
 we now possess, and by which we are justified and 
 saved, that it may with propriety be said, faith will cease 
 in heaven. All the great objects to which faith now re- 
 fers are absent : we believe in their existence, through 
 the report which is made of them in the word of God ; 
 but in heaven they will be immediately present to the 
 senses of our glorified body, or the perceptive faculty of 
 our spirit made perfect. Nor, as it respects hope, is it 
 by any means certain that this will exist in the heavenly 
 state ; for although it is difficult to conceive how there 
 can be otherwise than a futurity, even in eternity, and 
 how there can be a state of mind otherwise than the de- 
 sire and expectation of future good, yet, as in hope 
 there is usually some degree of doubt and uncertainty, 
 the state of mind with which glorified spirits contemplate 
 and anticipate future good, may be an indubitable cer- 
 tainty, which excludes the restlessness of desire, and the 
 incertitude of expectation. 
 
 In the hour of death", the believer closes the conflict 
 with his spiritual enemies, enters a world where no foe 
 shall ever exist, and where, of course, he no longer needs 
 either defensive or aggressive weapons. He takes off 
 the helmet of salvation, for hope is not needed when he 
 is brought to full possession: he lays aside the shield of 
 faith, for seeing and knowing have succeeded to believ- 
 ing, and he will be beyond the fiery darts of the wicked 
 one : the breastplate of sincerity he retains, not as a 
 weapon, but as an ornament not as a means of de- 
 fence, but as a memorial of victory : his feet are no long- 
 er shod with the preparation of the Gospel of peace, for 
 he will no more have to tread on the snares of the de- 
 stroyer, nor be exposed to his missiles : the sword of the 
 Spirit which is the word of God, shall be sheathed, and 
 hung with the trumpet in the hall : praying will cease,
 
 217 
 
 where there is no want to be supplied no care to be 
 alleviated no sin to be forgiven no sorrow to be sooth- 
 ed : watchfulness will no more be necessary, where no 
 enemy is found, no danger arises : the means of grace 
 will all be useless, where grace is swallowed up in glory : 
 submission will never be called for, where there are no 
 trials : and even many of the properties of love itself will 
 seem to be absorbed in its general principle ; many of its 
 modifications and operations will cease, amidst its eternal 
 delight in perfect excellence and happiness : for there 
 can be no forgiveness of injuries where none will be in- 
 flicted ; no long suffering where there is nothing to suf- 
 fer; no concealment of faults where none can be com- 
 mitted ; no self-denial where there will be nothing to try 
 us : nothing of love will remain, nothing be exercised, 
 but a pure and unmixed delight in happiness : and how 
 should it stimulate us to the exercise of mutual forbear- 
 ance and commiseration now, to consider that it is the 
 only state where these virtues can be indulged! 

 
 CHAPTER XVIII, 
 
 IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 ADOPTING the method pursued by the old Divines, I 
 shall take up this part of the subject in the way of 
 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 1. May we not infer from it, the divine origin of those 
 Scriptures, which give such a pre-eminence to the duty 
 of love. 
 
 The contents of the word of God have ever been 
 considered, and very justly, as a voucher for its divine 
 authority. The Bible is its own witness : the sublimity 
 of its doctrines, surpassing alike the invention and the 
 comprehension of the human understanding ; the har- 
 mony of its writers ; the grandeur of its style, the more 
 remarkable if we consider the illiterate character of 
 many of those who wrote it ; the elevation and purity 
 of its morality, especially when contrasted with the 
 condition of the whole world ; the view it gives us of 
 the nature and attributes of the Deity, of the character 
 of Jesus Christ, of the state of human nature, of the 
 scheme of redemption, of the elements of evangelical 
 piety, of the certainty and glory of immortality ; are 
 all the handwriting of Jehovah, and, together, form this 
 illustrious inscription " THE WORD OF GOD." Where 
 is anything like this among the works of men 1 Could 
 ignorance have devised a system so sublime, or depra- 
 vity invent a scheme so holy ? But to go no farther 
 than the subject we are now considering, and which 
 may be regarded as not only a single precept of mora-
 
 219 
 
 lity, but the spirit of the whole, is it conceivable that 
 such a generous and self-denying system of duty would 
 have sprung from the selfishness of human nature 1 
 Would man, had he been left to the mere exercise of 
 his reason, and the impulses of his own heart, ever have 
 summed up all morality and social obligation in that one 
 word, LOVE, and have represented this as the essence 
 of virtue 1 Is there anything analogous to this in any 
 human system with which we are acquainted 1 
 
 Examine PAGANISM, both ancient and modern ; and 
 what of this spirit do you find in its multiform varieties 1 
 Was benevolence, as has been already asked, ever em- 
 bodied in an idol 1 was a temple, a statue, or an altar, 
 ever raised to its honour 1 The abstractions of wisdom 
 and power, and some few of the sterner virtues of hu- 
 man nature, together with many of its sinful passions, 
 obtained a niche in the Pantheon ; but such a virtue as 
 that enjoined by Paul, not only was not worshipped, but 
 would have been despised, by all classes of ancient idol- 
 aters, as diametrically opposed to those qualities in 
 which they considered human greatness to consist. To 
 say nothing of that spirit of cruelty which, like a de- 
 mon legion, possessed, and tortured, and convulsed, the 
 worshippers of Moloch, even the milder and classic 
 mythology of the Greeks and the Romans, breathed 
 into its votaries no spirit of universal philanthropy. The 
 patriotism of these nations, the chivalrous self-devoted- 
 ness, which is blazoned with such splendour on the page 
 of history, and which kindle such enthusiasm in the 
 youthful imagination, what is it but the light of a con- 
 suming fire ? The patriotism of Rome, and of Greece, 
 in their best and purest days, was but a selfishness of 
 the most destructive kind, which would have trampled 
 down pure philanthropy with indignant scorn, as a mean 
 and cowardly spirit a traitor against the absorbing 
 glory of Athens or of the Roman commonwealth. 
 Those proud and haughty patriots thought that the 
 world was made for them, and cared not what rights of 
 other nations they invaded, so as they could strengthen 
 their own power ; nor what misery they inflicted, so as
 
 220 
 
 they could extend their own fame. Selfishness the 
 most engrossing was the soul of their system : every 
 man considered himself as represented by his country, 
 and, in contending for the honour of the latter, was 
 fighting for his own aggrandisement. Had love been 
 the ascendant in those ages,- the world would never 
 have been made to lie prostrate at the feet of Alexan- 
 der, or of Caesar. 
 
 And who among the poets sang the praises of uni- 
 versal benevolence ; who among the legislators made 
 it the basis of then- morals, who among the philoso- 
 phers expatiated on its glories, or laid the obligation to 
 cultivate it, upon the consciences of their disciples *? 
 The highest virtue of paganism was martial prowess. 
 So heavenly a glory never shone upon it, as is contain- 
 ed in that one sentence, " Thou shalt love thy neigh- 
 bour as thyself;" or if any theory, distantly analogous 
 to it, was found there, it was a borrowed light, the dim 
 reflection of the distant brightness of divine truth. 
 
 And as to modern paganism, we need not say how 
 vain it is to seek for universal love amidst the ferocities 
 of the American Indians, the murderous cruelties of 
 the South Sea Islanders, the disgusting selfishness and 
 ridiculous vanity of the Chinese, or the insulting and 
 degrading oppressions of the Hindoos. 
 
 Next turn your attention to MOHAMMEDANISM ; and 
 in what page of the Koran will you find, we will not say, 
 such a description, and such an enforcement, of philan- 
 thropy as we have in this chapter ; but where do you 
 find a recognition of the principle ? In all those pre- 
 tended revelations from heaven, of which Gabriel is said 
 to have been the bearer, where is there such a descrip- 
 tion of Deity as this " God is love !" or such a senti- 
 ment as that which arises out of it, " he that dwelleth 
 in love, dwelleth in God, and God in him !" So far 
 from recognizing this principle, Islamism condemns and 
 forbids it. It enjoins almsgiving, it is true, and gives it 
 a high place amongst its virtues, but this is not the same 
 as love, and may be often carried to a great extent 
 without a particle of its nature. This system of im
 
 221 
 
 posture, abounding, as it does, with minute and ridicu- 
 lous ceremonies, and a slavish regard to absurd ri- 
 tual observances, enforces, by the authority of its foun- 
 der, the most ferocious and bloodthirsty hatred of all 
 who do not receive it hi the exercise of implicit faith. 
 Wars against all infidels are not only enjoined in many 
 passages of the Koran, but are declared to be in a high 
 degree meritorious in the sight of God. How com- 
 pletely Islamism has filled its votaries with the most fe- 
 rocious bigotry and the most merciless intolerance, is 
 known by universal testimony. They everywhere pour 
 insulting contempt upon all who are not Mussulmans, 
 and feel a savage delight in adding cruelty to insult. 
 " The infidel dogs," is a common appellation applied to 
 Christians. The spirit of the system is everywhere 
 visible in the absolute despotism of the governments of 
 those countries in which it prevails ; where it is found, 
 the arts and the sciences do not flourish, and liberty 
 withers in its shade. The flaming scimeter of the Sultan 
 is its patron and defence; it was propagated by the 
 sword it is supported by the bow-string, and it is es- 
 sentially and unalterably cruel. Such is Islamism : a 
 curse to the world, a mystery in the divine government, 
 a dreadful obstacle to the spread of Christianity, and the 
 reverse of all that is holy and beneficent in the glorious 
 Gospel of the blessed God. 
 
 INFIDELITY, it is true, has attempted an imitation 
 of this virtue, but infidels have had revelation to copy 
 from ; and even with this model before their eyes, have 
 produced a caricature instead of a fac simile. The uni- 
 versal benevolence of this school is at war with the pri- 
 vate affections and individual tenderness : that of Chris- 
 tianity, springs out of them, and is founded upon them. 
 We contend, therefore, that this noble, and generous, 
 and useful disposition is one of the peculiarities of re- 
 vealed truth ; and whence, but from heaven, could it 
 have proceeded, and who but Jehovah either could or 
 would have given it the authority of a law 1 Whoever 
 will reflect for a moment, will be struck with the singu- 
 larity of the fact, that the Bible resolves the whole of 
 
 to*
 
 222 
 
 practical religion into love to God, and the whole of 
 morality into love to man. Is this, we ask again, the 
 work of human invention; or does it look like the pro- 
 duction of imposture ! Would the selfishness of man 
 have devised such a system ; for where, among all his 
 handy work, do we find any thing like it *? O no ! It is 
 part of the superscription of heaven it is the impress of 
 divinity it is the seal of truth. 
 
 2. We learn, that the spirit of true religion is not only 
 unlike, but opposed to, the characters most admired by the 
 people of the world. 
 
 The character which the historian loves to delineate, 
 on which he delights to exhaust the stores of his genius, 
 and to lavish the richest colouring of his pencil ; which 
 he is most pleased to exhibit to the admiration of his 
 readers ; and in which, with an eager sympathy, those 
 readers take as much delight as did the author, perusing 
 it again and again, till the soul glows with enthusiasm ; 
 is not the meek and virtuous prince, who is intent only 
 on the arts of peace, and the internal welfare of his 
 kingdom : no, but the ambitious hero, who fills the world 
 with the fame of his victories, and by the aid of daunt- 
 less courage, consummate skill, and inordinate lust of 
 dominion, goes on from conquering to conquer : this is 
 the man for whom the admiration of posterity is claimed ; 
 whose crimes are lost sight of in the splendour of his 
 genius, and whose cruelty is forgotten in the success 
 with which it is followed. Thus it is, that under the 
 power of a peculiar fascination, demons are worshipped 
 in sight of the miseries they have inflicted, and within 
 hearing of the groans they have extorted, merely on ac- 
 count of the vast genius they possess, and of their pow- 
 er to curse the children of men. But the New Testa- 
 ment lavishes no encomiums on such men, bestows no 
 praise on their deeds, but treats them as the bitterest 
 enemies of human happiness. The sword of conflict 
 and the laurel of victory are not among the objects 
 which it commends to our attention, but which it de- 
 votes to our detestation : the peacemaker is the charac-
 
 223 
 
 ter on which it bestows all its praises, and invests with 
 its richest honours. 
 
 If we descend from national affairs to the more con- 
 fined range of social intercourse, we shall find the same 
 perversion of judgment, the same misconception of true 
 excellence, and the same misplaced admiration. What 
 is the character which is usually most applauded in 
 fashionable circles, and also by the generality of man- 
 kind, whether rich or poor 1 Is it not the high spirited 
 individual who is quick to discern offence, and bold .to 
 resent it ; who will allow no one with impunity to tread 
 upon the skirt of his dignity, or his right ; who is, per- 
 haps, in some- things, frank, generous, and affable, but 
 under this exterior conceals a proud, independent spirit, 
 which can brook neither a superior nor a rival, but is 
 ever aspiring to distinction ; who is courteous but am- 
 bitious ; who would not willingly and intentionally give 
 offence, but, having given it, would feel himself for 
 ever disgraced by putting on the garment of humility, 
 and asking forgiveness ; who would give alms to the 
 needy, but not precedence even to the deserving ; is 
 not this the most admired of the world's favourites 1 Is 
 not revenge dignified with the name of honour, and 
 pride called spirit] In short, are not the qualities gen- 
 erally admired by men, of the active, irascible, and am- 
 bitious kind ; and are not the meek, and gentle, and pas- 
 sive virtues, looked upon with disesteem, and treated 
 with contempt 1 Is poverty of spirit, is humility, is self 
 abasement, is the forgiveness of insults, is patience un- 
 der provocation, admired, applauded, imitated ! Is it to 
 the character formed of these graces, that the silent 
 homage of the heart, and the loud praises of the tongue, 
 are paid 1 ? Quite the contrary. The men who would 
 practise these things, must make up their minds to en- 
 dure the world's scorn, and to be treated as poor tame- 
 spirited creatures, who deserve all the contumely they 
 receive, because of their forbearance in submitting to 
 it : and yet this is the spirit of religion, for this is the 
 temper of Jesus. When Jesus Christ came into the 
 world, he found it full of the notion that human glory
 
 consisted in ambition, pride, and resentment ; the Jew 
 and the Gentile participated in the sentiment, and hence 
 he took particular pains to correct this notion, giving, 
 in his sermon on the mount, a delineation of character 
 the very opposite of this. Indeed, the design of that 
 sermon was to rectify the mistakes then universally pre- 
 valent on the subject of character and of happiness, 
 and to teach the world that his disciples were to be pre- 
 eminently distinguished by humility, penitence, meek- 
 ness, purity, peaceableness, forgiveness, thirsting after 
 righteousness ; these are the qualities of a true Chris- 
 tian ; and every one who bears that character must se- 
 dulously cultivate its appropriate dispositions, and be 
 willing to bear the ridicule to which they will expose 
 him. He must never seek to conciliate the favour of 
 the unconverted, by imitating their spirit, or disguising 
 his own ; but bear their scorn, and wait with patience 
 for a world where humility and meekness will be ho- 
 noured and rewarded, and love, their parent disposition, 
 be crowned with glory. 
 
 3. This subject plainly shows us, that religion is ex- 
 ceedingly DIFFICULT. 
 
 It is a very common supposition, that it is an easy 
 thing to be a Christian. And if to be a Christian were 
 nothing more than going to a place of worship, indulg- 
 ing in pious emotions, subscribing to religious institu- 
 tions, and professing certain religious opinions, the sup- 
 position would be correct ; for nothing is more easy 
 than all this : but if the spirit of religion be the dispo- 
 sition described in this chapter, then must it be obvious 
 to every one who knows his own heart, that it is the 
 most difficult thing in the world. The Scriptures every- 
 where represent true piety by terms, allusions, and 
 figures, which imply the greatest effort and the most 
 persevering labour : hence, we are commanded to 
 " strive to enter in at the strait gate ;" to " lay aside 
 every weight, and the sin that doth most easily beset us ; 
 and to run with patience the race that is set before us ;" to 
 " labour for the meat which endureth unto eternal life ;" 
 to "fight the good fight of faith ;" to " mortify the deedg
 
 225 
 
 of the body ;" to " crucify the flesh." What terms ! 
 what ideas ! what metaphors ! Can anything that is 
 easily accomplished, require or justify the use of such 
 language 1 If it were a light thing to be a Christian, 
 could the sacred writers, with any propriety, have em- 
 ployed such strong and very expressive figures ? No- 
 thing, surely, can more impressively teach us the abso- 
 lute and indispensable necessity of the most incessant 
 as well as vigorous effort. The course of a sinner is 
 down hill. " Easy," says VIRGIL, " is the descent to 
 hell :" a transgressor has nothing to do but to give him- 
 self up to the indulgence of his corruptions, and he will 
 slide, without effort, to perdition. Not so the saint. 
 Heaven, by an appropriate figure of speech, is repre- 
 sented as on a high eminence, which cannot be reached 
 without constant and laborious climbing. Not that all 
 this is necessary to merit heaven, but to reach it : we 
 are justified by faith without works, and become entitled 
 to eternal life exclusively by the righteousness of Christ ; 
 nor are we to conceive of the faith by which we receive 
 this righteousness as consisting of any violent strivings 
 of our minds, but as a simple dependance on the Lord 
 Jesus Christ for acceptance with God : but we are 
 speaking of the Christian temper, of practical religion, 
 of sanctification, of going on through all the trials and 
 temptations of life, to the possession of that crown of 
 glory which Christ has merited for us ; and if this be 
 easy work, there is nothing difficult. 
 
 4. Religion is a comparatively RARE thing among 
 men. 
 
 This is, indeed, a melancholy and a painful reflec- 
 tion ; for it is saying, in other words, there are but few 
 that are saved. It is applying to our own times the 
 awful language employed by our Lord as descriptive of 
 the state of things, in his days upon earth. " Broad 
 is the way which leadeth to destruction, and many there 
 be which go in thereat ; strait is the gate, and narrow 
 is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be 
 that find it." Tremendous and truly dreadful is the 
 idea, that the greatest part of mankind are moving to-
 
 226 
 
 wards the bottomless pit, and sinking daily in crowds 
 to the miseries of perdition. Such a sentiment ought 
 not to be admitted to the mind, except upon the clear- 
 est evidence ; neither ought it to be uttered by the lip, 
 much less be recorded by the pen, except with a view 
 to lessen the havoc which it describes, by disturbing the 
 delusion which is the cause of this extensive ruin. 
 
 It is evident at least if the Word of God be true 
 that no man can be saved without religion ; and that 
 the religion which does not include love, is, in fact, no 
 religion at all : the only inquiry, then, to be answered 
 is, Does Christian love abound, or is it comparatively 
 rare 1 Is the great mass of human beings around us 
 actuated by a spirit of universal benevolence a bene- 
 volence which is the fruit of regeneration, and the ef- 
 fect of faith ; which springs from love to God, and is 
 cherished by a sense of redeeming grace ; which is ex- 
 ercised in obedience to the divine authority, and with a 
 view to the divine glory ; which, in its operations, is full 
 of forbearance and meekness, kindness, candour, and 
 sympathy, humility and disinterestedness *? Is this the 
 prevailing disposition of the bulk of mankind 1 Do 
 we see it manifested in the intercourse of society 1 
 Alas ! alas ! instead of this, do we not still see these 
 passions in operation, which the Apostle mentions as 
 descriptive of the conduct of mankind to each other in 
 his day. " For we ourselves, who were sometime dis- 
 obedient, deceived, serving divers lusts and pleasures, 
 living in malice and envy ; hateful, and hating one an- 
 other." Are not anger, malice, revenge, selfishness, 
 mvy, pride, censoriousness, the predominant disposi- 
 tions in the generality of mankind ] Who can deny 
 this, or who will attempt to deny it 1 And if this be the 
 case, religion must be comparatively rare. Few, in- 
 deed, are living in the exemplification of Christian love. 
 Dreadful, tremendous idea ! I tremble as I write ! 
 my soul is distressed, and groans with anguish over my 
 own statements. I would disbelieve them if I could ; 
 and, even believing them, I would shut them up in my 
 own bosom, if it were not necessary to promulgate
 
 227 
 
 them, in order to detect that delusion which, by leading 
 men to think that it is an uncommon thing for souls to 
 be lost, makes it a still rarer occurrence for them to be 
 saved. I must come to the conclusion for I cannot 
 help it, without becoming an infidel that there are, in 
 our time, many, many more who perish, than are saved. 
 " Hell hath enlarged herself, and opened her mouth 
 without measure ; and their glory, and their pomp, and 
 their multitude, and he that rejoiceth shall descend into 
 it." Reader, let the dreadful announcement, that it is a 
 rare thing to be saved, startle you like thunder from 
 your slumbers, and lead you to institute the most seri- 
 ous, and solemn, and impartial examination of your 
 hearts. Do not rest satisfied with a mere vague idea of 
 religion, or a mere general careless assumption that you 
 are a Christian. Without such a disposition as that we 
 have considered, you have no religion ; and without re- 
 ligion you must perish eternally. You have been a 
 professor of religion, and have approved a Gospel minis- 
 try, and have enjoyed the light and advantages of gos- 
 pel ordinances ; but this will only aggravate your guilt 
 and condemnation, and misery : if you are not living 
 under the influence of love, you are living without re- 
 ligion, and must have your doom with those of whom 
 it is said " The wicked shall be turned into hell, and 
 all the nations that forget God." 
 
 5. We learn the great criminality of many things still 
 remaining, and in some degree connived at, among profes- 
 sors of religion. 
 
 National antipathies are too often found in considera- 
 ble strength in the minds of Christians, especially in a 
 time of warfare. Mistaking the nature of patriotism, 
 and thinking, as did the ancient Greeks and Romans, 
 that love for our country implies hatred of every rival 
 nation, we are too apt to imbibe the spirit of the times 
 and places in which we live, and to cherish a feeling of 
 ill will towards our national competitors. The religion 
 of the New Testament is by no means hostile to a spirit 
 of pure and sublime patriotism ; that patriotism which 
 seeks to exalt a nation by all the arts of peace, the dis-
 
 228 
 
 coveries of science, the inventions of fancy, the diffu- 
 sion of knowledge, morality, and religion : but the thirst 
 of conquest, the love of aggrandizement, the lust of do- 
 mination, which would make us dislike a nation, be- 
 cause it limits our power and resists our aggressions, is 
 an unchristian feeling, and an offence against the law of 
 love. From every thing which would flatter the pride, 
 or excite the ambition, or exasperate the anger, or in- 
 crease the irritability, of a nation every thing that 
 would swell the current of prejudice against another 
 country, we should carefully abstain ; we should have 
 no national enemies, no enmities and aversions excited, 
 by the geographical divisions of the globe. We should 
 remember that God hath made of one blood all nations 
 that dwell upon the earth ; and, therefore, that all men 
 are our brothers, and should be loved as brothers. A 
 Christian is, in one sense, a citizen of the world ; and 
 although he was born in England, should abhor the 
 thought of an hereditary dislike to an American, or a 
 Frenchman. When national passions are roused and 
 incensed, he is to bear no part in the widely circulating 
 hatred ; and amidst much that he may regret and con- 
 demn, is still to remember, that he is not to be " easily 
 provoked." 
 
 Allied to this is the passion for war. 
 
 Whether the abstract principle of the unjustifiableness 
 of war in every case be tenable, we will not now dis- 
 cuss ; but that war, as it is usually maintained, is utter- 
 ly indefensible on Christian principles, can admit of no 
 question. It is but too evident, that nominal, and even 
 great numbers of real Christians, are not duly impress- 
 ed with the deep criminality and great enormity of the 
 warlike spirit. Instead of bearing their testimony, by all 
 proper means, and on every suitable occasion, against 
 it, they partake of the general and murderous enthusi- 
 asm ; they cherish the same antipathies ; are actuated 
 by the same revengeful, proud, ambitious spirit, as the 
 people of the world; defend by argument the wars that 
 arise, as just and necessary ; read with as much avidity 
 the details of battles ; boast with as much exultation of
 
 229 
 
 the victories which are obtained ; and enter as deeply 
 into all the ardour of the hostile passion, as though they 
 were the worshippers of Mars, the god of war, instead 
 of Jehovah, the God of Love. Ought these things to 
 be? Are they not a manifest and flagrant violation of 
 all their principles and professions 1 The whole sub- 
 stance, genius, and tendency of Christianity, is pacific. 
 The God whom we worship delighteth in mercy, and is 
 infinitely benevolent ; the character of Christ, who is 
 our example, no less than our atonement, is formed of 
 all the meek and gentle virtues, in the greatest perfec- 
 tion ; the scheme of salvation is a plan of grace ; all the 
 doctrines of revelation unite in their tendency to soften 
 and sweeten the temper ; while the precepts of Christian 
 morality forbid wrath, anger, malice, revenge of every 
 kind or degree, and enjoin us, in no case, to render evil 
 for evil, but ever to return good for evil. The New 
 Testament is directly opposed to that rage and resent- 
 ment, to which the world has given the delusive names 
 of spirit and a sense of honour, and from whence wars 
 and contentions proceed. To these haughty and mis- 
 chievous sensibilities, which are but an imitation of the 
 passions that rage in full force in the natures of brute 
 animals, the religion of Jesus Christ offers all the resist- 
 ance of a divine authority. Let any man think of the 
 crimes committed, and the miseries inflicted, by a single 
 battle, and surely, if he has ever read only one of the 
 Gospels, or one of the Epistles, he must be convinced 
 that a hatred of war is an essential feature of practical 
 religion. But we need go no further than this chapter, 
 to prove that the warlike passion, even in the least de- 
 gree, is opposed to Christianity ; for if love were uni- 
 versally prevalent, swords would be beaten into plough- 
 shares, and spears into pruning-hooks. It is high time 
 for the followers of the meek and lowly Jesus, in every 
 part of the world, to study the genius of their religion, 
 since, in the knowledge of this, many of them are still 
 lamentably deficient. It is a shame upon what is called 
 the Christian world, that it has not long since, borne 
 universal, impassioned, and indignant testimony against 
 
 21
 
 230 
 
 that enormous evil, which still rages not merely among 
 savages ; but among scholars, philosophers, Christians, 
 and divines. In vain, so far as regards the diffusion of 
 a pacific spirit, has science enlightened the mind ; in 
 vain has learning softened the manners and cultivated 
 the taste ; in vain has art multiplied the comforts ; in 
 vain has even religion established the faith, and in some 
 measure sanctified the minds of the inhabitants of Christ- 
 endom ; for war, horrid, bloody, destructive war, is as 
 much practised, and as much patronised, as ever. 
 Whatever men have learnt, they have not learnt to love 
 one another ; whatever attainments they have made in 
 knowledge, they have made scarcely any in Charity ; 
 however high they may have soared above the savage 
 into the heights of science, they are still nearly upon a 
 level in a taste for war. But real Christians should 
 come out and be separate, and touch not the unclean 
 thing : let them act upon their own principles, and be- 
 come not only the friends but the advocates of peace : 
 let them echo back in their several spheres the angel's 
 description of Christianity. " peace on earth, good will 
 to men :" let ministers from the pulpit, writers from the 
 press, private Christians, in their intercourse with each 
 other and with the world, inculcate a fixed and irre- 
 concileable abhorrence of war: let the church of God 
 be a society for the diffusion of the principles of univer- 
 sal peace. 
 
 Love forbids the indulgence of sectarian prejudice, God 
 has, for wise ends no doubt, permitted the existence of 
 various and conflicting opinions among real Christians: 
 but, unhappily, instead of making these differences 
 merely the occasion of mutual forbearance, and op- 
 portunities for showing through what interposing media 
 Christians can press to recognize and embrace each 
 other ; instead of converting them into tests of the sin- 
 cerity, and proofs of the strength of our attachment; 
 we have permitted them to rise up into separating walls, 
 which divide and alienate our hearts from each other. 
 Perhaps, even towards those whose errors are too fun- 
 damental to allow us to acknowledge them as fellow-
 
 231 
 
 Christians, much less to hold communion with them in 
 the bond of church fellowship, there is not enough of 
 genuine charity ; for is there not something of bitterness 
 and contempt, of wrath and ill will, instead of that deep 
 compassion and tender pity with which their situation 
 should ever be viewed 1 Poor men ! with all their boast- 
 ed reason, they walk in darkness at noonday, and, with 
 the lamp of truth in their hands, they are yet stumbling 
 like the blind. We may feel a holy abhorrence of their 
 sentiments, but, for themselves, we should cherish the 
 deepest commiseration. 
 
 But as to those who agree with us in all the funda- 
 mental doctrines of the Gospel, and differ from us only 
 on the forms of church government, on the mode and 
 subject of a sacrament, or on some of the minor points 
 of doctrine, surely surely, towards them, we should 
 maintain the full force of brotherly affection, without 
 allowing our differences to interrupt for a moment the 
 exercise of the most entire good will. We would in- 
 dulge a hope, that, in this age, there is a nearer ap- 
 proximation than there was, of the various denomina- 
 tions of Christians to each other ; that the spirit of in- 
 tolerance is dying away ; that there is a greater disposi- 
 tion to recognize each other, in the fullest sense of the 
 term, as members of the same body, and brethren in the 
 same family : but even yet, there is too much of the 
 odium theologicum remaining among ministers, and too 
 much of the spirit of party among laymen ; too much of 
 the feeling of rivalry and suspicion ; too much disposi- 
 tion to miscontrue actions, to arraign motives ; too much 
 inclination to envy and jealousy. It is too common for 
 the ministers and members of the establishment, to look 
 with haughty contempt, and to speak as they feel to- 
 wards those who secede from their church : and to re- 
 vile them as troublesome schismatics, as rebels against 
 established authority. 
 
 Let it not be thought, however, that it is only by 
 Churchmen that the law of love is violated ; for it must 
 be confessed, and regretted, that it is not always ob- 
 served 9.s it should be, by the various sects of Dissenters.
 
 232 
 
 Baptists Paedo-baptists, and Methodists, are all too of- 
 ten actuated by a degree of envy, jealousy, and selfish- 
 ness, utterly unworthy of the great cause of religion, and 
 altogether at variance with their common principles. 
 What attempts are sometimes made by the Wesleyans 
 to raise a prejudice against Galvanism and its adherents, 
 by deformed, horrid, and ferocious looking caricatures 
 of that system ; and, on the other hand, how often are 
 the whole body of Methodists condemned by Calvanists, 
 as upholding all the errors of Pelagius ! Baptists pour 
 unmeasured contempt on infant baptism, and are repaid 
 by their opponents in ridicule on adult immersion. 
 Statements are often given of the sentiments of a sect, 
 which they would deny, and consequences deduced from 
 them which they would abhor. And then, what clash- 
 ing of interests frequently takes place when a new de- 
 nomination is introduced into a town or a village. Some- 
 times this introduction takes place without occasion for 
 it : there is really no room for another body of Chris- 
 tians ; 'the existing means of public instruction are al- 
 ready sufficient, both as to quantity and quality ; and, 
 in this case, to be animated by such a zeal for our de- 
 nomination, as to set it up at the certain hazard, and 
 especially with the very hope, of dividing a prevailing and 
 hitherto peaceful body of Christians, is, in the last de- 
 gree, a hateful effusion of party spirit : men may call it 
 zeal for the glory of God ; but call it what they will, it 
 is, when exhibited in its own deformity, nothing but envy, 
 or the selfishness which seeketh its own. In other cases, 
 what jealousy and ill will have been stirred up in the 
 minds of an existing party, by an attempt made by 
 another to establish itself in the same place ! It signified 
 nothing how large was the place, how great the popu- 
 lation, how inadequate the means of religious instruc- 
 tion: all this was left out of view ; and the new denomi- 
 nation, though they preached the Gospel in its purity, 
 was opposed and disliked, because it came into a field 
 where there was already an evangelical body, though 
 that body could not be said to have occupied more than 
 one little nook or corner of the uncultivated land. It
 
 233 
 
 would be inviduous to name any denomination as having 
 manifested most of this spirit, no one, perhaps, is al- 
 together free from it : but we have known, in some in- 
 stances, such wretched, paltry, nay wicked, means re- 
 sorted to ; such attempts to oppose the new comers, by 
 defaming their principles, by insinuating charges against 
 their ministers, by throwing suspicions even over the 
 purposes of their private meetings ; such a system of 
 espionage, by sending spies to gather something to cavil 
 at from the discourses of their opponents, as they choose 
 to call them ; such a series of kidnapping tricks to draw 
 away the young and unwary ; that we have felt it 
 somewhat difficult, in witnessing this absence of Chris- 
 tian love in others, to retain it in exercise in our own 
 hearts towards them. Instead of indulging such envy, 
 jealousy, and ill will, all denominations who agree in the 
 fundamental truths of the Gospel should regard and hail 
 each other, as only so many companies in the same regi- 
 ment, or so many labourers in the same field, or so many 
 workmen in the same building, having one common 
 object, and serving under one common head. But, 
 alas ! alas ! no rival companies of a secular nature can 
 be more jealous of each other than some congregations 
 of professing Christians are. This remark does not ap- 
 ply so much to the larger bodies, which are to be found 
 in our great towns and cities, as to the smaller ones, 
 which exist in our less populous places. But we have 
 all too much prejudice, and too little Christian affection 
 for each other. We all need more of the mind of 
 Christ. We do not wish to see a spirit of indifference 
 to our distinctive opinions, this would be a sin in the 
 other extreme ; but we desire to behold more cordial 
 good will and confidence towards those who differ from 
 us, and far, far less of the spirit of sects and parties. 
 
 Love would soft en the asperity, and remove the acri- 
 mony, of controversy. We are not enemies to well-con- 
 ducted controversy. As long as truth is attacked, it 
 must be defended : and as long as error exists, it must be 
 assailed. To give up the truth for the sake of peace, 
 is a conspiracy against the Bible, and establishing a 
 21*
 
 234 
 
 covenant with the enemies of the Lord. Not an iota 
 of God's word must be surrendered to error and infideli- 
 ty. We must " contend earnestly for the faith once 
 delivered to the saints;" and resist, if need be, unto 
 bonds, imprisonment, and death. A hollow, fawning, 
 parasitical spirit, which would conciliate the friendship 
 of men disaffected to the Scriptures, by giving up, or 
 treating lightly, any of their contents, has the curse of 
 heaven upon it. " Controversy is the safety valve of 
 theological zeal. The spirit of party is opposed to it, 
 being too intolerant for discussion. Truth has always 
 triumphed by means of controversy: she has grown 
 powerless only when the sleep of lethargy has stolen 
 upon the church.- What is Christianity itself, but a 
 standing controversy with the infidel, the sensualist, and 
 the formalist, the men of the world 1 We admit that 
 the spirit of controversy, or, to speak more properly, the 
 controversial spirit, is not, in itself, very conducive to the 
 cultivation of personal piety. The angry controvertist, 
 and fierce polemic, is not always a devout believer or 
 an amiable member of society. The church has been 
 sometimes as much disgraced by her advocates, as an- 
 noyed by her assailants; and there are intestine debates 
 and disputes, which, as friends to religion, as well as 
 friends to peace, we could wish to have terminated for 
 ever. But alive, as we trust we are, to the dangers of 
 controversy, we must, nevertheless, protest against that 
 timid, trimming, self-indulgent, ultra-liberal dread of re- 
 ligious debate, which would bind over truth to keep the 
 peace with error, and consign those celestial weapons 
 of the spiritual armoury reason and Scripture to the 
 ark of the church, as useless regalia."* It is highly 
 probable that all controversy Avill never cease, till truth 
 stands revealed amidst the light of eternity. But there 
 will come a period, when men will discuss their dill'rr- 
 ences in the spirit of brotherly affection : when, perhaps, 
 there will be fewer points unsettled, and those few will 
 be debated with candour and mutual esteem. Too 
 
 * Eclectic Review.
 
 235 
 
 many, in their disputations about religion, contend for 
 truth, till they have destroyed love, and even, in refe- 
 rence to the former, present it in so mutilated a form, as 
 to deprive it of much of its own engaging beauty. 
 
 Luther's prayer should be presented by all " From 
 frivolous, fruitless controversies, good Lord deliver us !" 
 It is well observed by an old writer, " That disputations 
 in religion are sometimes necessary, but always danger- 
 ous; drawing the best spirits into the head from the 
 heart, and either leaving it empty of all, or too full of 
 fleshly, zeal and passion, if extraordinary care be not 
 taken still to supply and fill it anew with pioiis affection 
 towards God, and love towards man." . There is no 
 case in which good men are more under the power of 
 the deceitfulness of the heart, than when engaged in re- 
 ligious controversy ; and when, under the idea that they 
 are only " contending earnestly for the faith," they in- 
 dulge in all kinds of unhallowed tempers, dip their pens 
 in gall, deliberately write, as deliberately print, and no 
 less deliberately justify, the bitterest sarcasms the se- 
 verest irony the most railing accusations the grossest 
 personalities the most uncharitable surmises : in short, 
 when, as the controversy is about religion, a circum- 
 stance which ought to produce a spirit directly the re- 
 verse, there is no degree of abuse, reviling, and de- 
 famation, to which they do not have recourse. Such 
 has been too often the tone of religious controversy, 
 and by which it would seem as if the graces were mere 
 heathen courtezans, in whose company a Christian 
 should blush to be found ; while the furies were so many 
 personifications of holy zeal, whose assistance is to be 
 solicited in the support of truth. Oh, what a handle 
 has the spirit of angry controversy given to infidels 
 against the whole system of revelation ! they have 
 fought against Christianity with poisoned arrows, and 
 the gall of furious polemics has supplied the venom in 
 which they have dipped their sarcasms, ironies, and 
 jests. It is high time that the Apostle's exhortation 
 should be practically remembered, "Let all bitterness, 
 and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil-speaking,
 
 236 
 
 be put away from you, with all malice :*' that all who 
 contend for the faith, should remember Paul's advice to 
 Timothy, " The servant of the Lord must not strive ; 
 but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient ; in 
 meekness instructing those that oppose themselves, if 
 God peradventure will give them repentance, to the 
 acknowledging of the truth." The wrath of man, in 
 no instance, worketh the righteousness of God. Let 
 any one read this chapter, and say if it be possible to 
 justify the spirit in which contentions for the truth are 
 generally carried on. Let it not be pleaded that we 
 are commanded to rebuke sharply, as if this furnished 
 an apology for all uncharitableness : for duties cannot 
 be in opposition to each other: and therefore even this 
 must be performed in a manner that is compatible with 
 meekness and love. Unfortunately, the spirit of acri- 
 monious controversy is as popular as it is sinful* those 
 pugnacious hierophants, by whom it is carried on, are 
 generally the leaders of a party, which thinks itself hap- 
 py in a representative, who with his shield can defend 
 them, and with his tremendous sword can vanquish their 
 enemies, and thus lead them on to victory and suprema- 
 cy. It would be amusing, if it were not too serious a 
 matter for entertainment, to hear how these persons ex- 
 ult in the exploits of their redoubtable Hercules ; and to 
 see how securely they repose under the protection of 
 his terrible and far-resounding club. What deep dis- 
 grace is it upon the professors and teachers of the reli- 
 gion of the meek and lowly Saviour, to suppose that his 
 doctrines and his precepts require the aid of human and 
 unhallowed passions to give them effect ! 
 
 We may next exhibit the criminality idiich attaches to the 
 sin of schism, and deplore its prevalence. It will be ne- 
 cessary to explain here what I mean by schism. No 
 term has been more employed or more abused than this; 
 it has furnished to bigots of all parties a theme of angry 
 declamation, and ;i snlijcct of hitter accusation and re- 
 proach, against all who (lifter from them in opinion ; 
 upon whatever ground, or in whatever spirit, that diffe- 
 rence is maintained. Papists charge this sin upon Pro-
 
 237 
 
 testants ; while the Church of England, in its turn, at- 
 tempts to fasten the guilt of it upon all who secede from 
 her communion. It is circulated with eagerness from 
 one denomination to another, as a term of ignominy, 
 and is continually calling into exercise some of the worst 
 passions of human nature. Papal bulls, episcopal 
 charges, clerical sermons, party-spirited journals, are 
 continually harping upon it ; and multitudes, who have 
 no other means of blackening an opponent, think that 
 they cannot more effectually succeed in rendering him 
 both odious and guilty, than by calling him a schismatic. 
 I will at once confess, that schism is, indeed, when pro- 
 perly understood, a sin of so enormous a kind, that too 
 much cannot be said for its condemnation. But it is 
 not properly understood. In its etymological significa- 
 tion it means a rent, a division, a separation of that 
 which was originally one.* 
 
 CAMPBELL'S remarks are so clear and convincing on 
 this subject, that they may, with great propriety, be re- 
 ferred to. As breach, or rupture, is the literal import of 
 the term in our language, wherever these words may be 
 figuratively applied, the term schism seems likewise ca- 
 pable of an application. It invariably supposes, that 
 among those things whereof it is affirmed, there subsist- 
 ed an union formerly, and as invariably denotes that 
 the union subsists no longer. In this manner the Apos- 
 tle Paul uses the word, applying it to a particular 
 church^ or Christian congregation. Thus he adjures 
 the Corinthians, by the name of the Lord Jesus, that 
 there be no divisions, or schisms, among them ; and in 
 another place of the same Epistle, " I hear that there 
 are divisions," or schisms. In order to obtain a proper 
 idea of what is meant by a breach, or schism, in this ap- 
 plication, we must form a just notion of that which con- 
 stituted the union whereof the schism was a violation. 
 Now, the great and powerful cement which united the 
 souls of Christians, was their mutual love. Their hearts 
 in the emphatical language of holy writ, were knit 
 
 * Matthew ix. 16. John vii. 43,
 
 238 
 
 together in love. This had been declared by their Mas- 
 ter to be the distinguishing badge of their profession 
 " By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if 
 ye have love one to another" Their partaking of the 
 same baptism, their professing the same faith, their en- 
 joying the same promises, and their joining in the same 
 religious services, formed a connexion merely exter- 
 nal, and of little significance, unless, agreeably to the 
 Apostle's expression, it was rooted and grounded in 
 love. As this, therefore, is the great criterion of the 
 Christian character, and tb^e foundation of Christian 
 unity, whatever alienates the affections of Christians 
 from one another is manifestly subversive of both, and 
 may, consequently, with the greatest truth and energy, 
 be denominated schism. It is not so much what makes 
 an outward distinction, or separation (though this also 
 may, in a lower degree, be so denominated,) as what 
 produces an alienation of the heart, which constitutes 
 schism in the sense of the Apostle ; for this strikes di- 
 rectly at the vitals of Christianity. Indeed, both the 
 evil and the danger of the former, that is, an external 
 separation, is principally to be estimated from its in- 
 fluence upon the latter, that is, in producing an alien- 
 ation of heart ; for it is in the union of affection among 
 Christians, that the spirit, the life, and the power, of 
 religion are principally placed. 
 
 Wherever an alienation of heart takes place, and 
 whatever be the occasion of it, whether there be an 
 external separation or not, there is a schism. It may 
 arise in the Church of England, and has, perhaps, 
 arisen ra the divisions characterized by the terms evan- 
 gelical and anti-evangelical; not, indeed, that these 
 terms are recognised, but the distinctions certainly ex- 
 ist of which they are the designations ; or it may exist 
 in the Church of Scotland, and does exist in a way 
 similar to what occurs in the sister church in the south ; 
 it arose in the Church of Rome, that boasted seat of 
 unity and infallibility, in the contest between the Jan- 
 senists and the Jesuits ; or, it may arise, as, alas ! we 
 know to our shame and distress it does too often arise,
 
 in our Independent churches : so that, without any 
 actual arid visible separation or secession, this dreadful 
 evil may be in full and mischievous operation. On the 
 contrary, there may be diversity of opinion in the same 
 society, as in those Baptist churches that admit of mix- 
 ed communion, without any schism ; and, provided 
 there be no alienation of heart, no interruption to mu- 
 tual esteem and good-will, there may be even an exter- 
 nal separation, without schism. This sin can have no 
 existence except in those cases where the unity of the 
 spirit is disturbed, and the bond of peace is severed. 
 As long as sincere love remains, there is, in the full 
 sense of the term, no schism. Consequently, whatever 
 tends to alienate the hearts of Christians from each 
 other, whatever tends to produce discord, whatever 
 tends to stir up strife, no matter who may be guilty 
 of such conduct, is the very essence of this hateful 
 vice. If men will attempt to coerce the conscience, 
 by legislating for others in such matters as those of re- 
 ligion, and interfere, by human authority, in affairs 
 which should be transacted through the medium of the 
 Bible, between God and the soul, they must be answer- 
 able for those divisions which arise from the conscien- 
 tious objections of persons who cannot submit to such 
 enactments. If to separate peaceably from the Church 
 of England be the sin of schism, hoAv will the Church 
 of England justify itself from the same charge brought 
 against her by the Church of Rome 1 The schismatic 
 is not he who peaceably secedes ; but he who renders 
 secession necessary, by setting up requirements with 
 which the separatist cannot comply without violating 
 his conscience. Not that I mean to say Episcopalians, 
 or even the supporters of any established religion, what- 
 ever are schismatical, except where their conduct is 
 such as is calculated to produce mutual disaffection ; 
 so neither, on the other hand, are dissenters justly 
 chargeable with this sin, unless their conduct can be 
 fairly proved to be founded on a factious spirit of ill 
 will towards the religious establishment of the coun- 
 try. It is nothing to say that their dissent proceeds on
 
 240 
 
 insufficient grounds, and their objections to the church, 
 as by law established, are to things that are indifferent 
 in themselves, and therefore frivolous and vexatious. If 
 they are indifferent, why then impose them? but of 
 their indifference or importance dissenters themselves 
 must judge ; as did the reformed churches of Chris- 
 tendom of the corruptions of Popery. If a dissenter 
 employ himself in stirring up ill will towards the mem- 
 bers of the Church of England, by arraigning the mo- 
 tives of its ministers, and charging them with sordid ava- 
 rice, or a mere love of worldly pomp and domination ; 
 or by questioning the piety of its members ; or by excit- 
 ing animosity, or producing alienation of heart in the 
 minds of his own party ; or, if he so state, defend, and 
 enforce his own principles, as that the natural result in 
 those who hear him shall be an interruption of all com- 
 munion of heart, and the exercise of all mutual good- 
 will between the two denominations ; if he employ him- 
 self in widening the breach between them, and repel- 
 ling them farther from each other ; he is indeed a schis- 
 matic, and deserves all the reproach which such con- 
 duct can bring upon him. But, then, it should be re- 
 collected that no less guilty of the sin of schism, is he 
 who, whether he be a mitred or unmitred minister of the 
 Established Church, employs his talents in holding up 
 dissenters to public obloquy as a factious, troublesome, 
 dangerous body, seceding upon no grounds but such as 
 are frivolus, entitled to reproach for what they have done, 
 and to suspicion for what they may do. But quitting 
 names and parties, schism is the sin of doing anything 
 to alienate men's hearts from each other, whatever be 
 the occasion or the means of the estrangement. And 
 a sin it is, of a magnitude and enormity which few can 
 estimate. It is the very opposite of charity ; and in say- 
 ing this we arraign il upon the most solemn and the most 
 riijiital charge, which any indictment can prefer. We 
 liavc ;ill, perhaps, something of it in our spirit; but lit- 
 tle does it occur to some men, when they are advanc- 
 ing their charges and fulminating their anathemas 
 against others for the sin of schism, that, while in the
 
 241 
 
 eye of heaven the objects of their anger are innocent 
 of the crime that is laid to their charge, they themselves 
 are regarded by him, whose judgment is according to 
 truth, as the greatest schismatics upon earth. 
 
 The temptation cannot be resisted, of introducing 
 here a long, but no one who has a taste for literary or 
 moral beauty will deem it too long an extract from the 
 writings of Mr. Hall. 
 
 "The Gallican church, no doubt, looked upon it as 
 a signal triumph, when she prevailed on Louis the Four- 
 teenth to repeal the Edict of Nantes, and to suppress 
 the Protestant religion. But what was the conse- 
 quence "? Where shall we look after this period, for 
 her Fenelons and her Pascals ; where for the distin- 
 guished monuments of piety and learning, which were 
 the glory of her better days'? As for piety, she per- 
 ceived she had no occasion for it, when there was no 
 lustre of Christian holiness surrounding her ; nor for 
 learning, when she had no longer any opponents to 
 confute, or any controversies to maintain. She felt 
 herself at liberty to become as ignorant, as secular, as 
 irreligious, as she pleased ; and, amidst the silence and 
 darkness she had created around her, she drew the cur- 
 tains, and retired to rest. The accession of numbers 
 she gained by suppressing her opponents, was like the 
 small extension of length a body acquires by death ; 
 the feeble remains of life were extinguished, and she 
 lay a putrid corpse a public nuisance, filling the air 
 with pestilential exhalations. Such, there is every rea- 
 son to believe, would be the effect of similar measures 
 in England. That union among Christians which it is 
 so desirable to recover, must, we are persuaded, be the 
 result of something more heavenly and divine than le- 
 gal restraints or angry controversies. Unless an angel 
 were to descend for that purpose, the spirit of division 
 is a disease which will never be healed by troubling the 
 waters. We must expect the cure from the increasing 
 prevalence of religion, and from a copious communi- 
 cation of the Spirit to produce that event. A more 
 extensive diffusion of piety, among all sects and parties 
 
 22 /
 
 242 
 
 will be the best and only preparation for a cordial uni- 
 on. Christians will then be disposed to appreciate 
 their differences more equitably, to turn their chief at- 
 tention to points on which they agree ; and, in conse- 
 quence of loving each other more, to make every con- 
 cession consistent with a good conscience. Instead of 
 wishing to vanquish others, every one will be desirous 
 of being vanquished by the truth. An awful fear of 
 God, and an exclusive desire of discovering his mind, 
 will hold a torch before them in their inquiries, which 
 will strangely illuminate the path in which they are to 
 tread. In the room of being repelled by mutual anti- 
 pathy, they will be insensibly drawn nearer to each 
 other by the ties of mutual attachment. A larger mea- 
 sure of the spirit of Christ would prevent them from 
 converting every incidental variation into an impassa- 
 ble boundary, or from condemning the most innocent 
 and laudable usages, for fear of symbolizing with ano- 
 ther class of Christians, an odious spirit, with which 
 the writer under consideration is strongly impregnated. 
 The general prevalence of piety in different communi- 
 ties, would inspire that mutual respect, that heartfelt 
 homage, for the virtues conspicuous in the character 
 of their respective members, which would urge us to 
 ask, with astonishment and regret, Why cannot we be 
 one ? what is it that obstructs our union ? Instead of 
 maintaining the barrier which separates us from each 
 other, and employing ourselves in fortifying the frontiers 
 of hostile communities, we should be anxiously devis- 
 ing the means of narrowing the grounds of dispute, by 
 drawing the attention of all parties to those fundamen- 
 tal and catholic principles in which they concur. 
 
 "To this we may add, that a more perfect subjection 
 to the authority of the great Head of the church, would 
 restrain men from inventing new terms of communion, 
 from lording it over conscience, or from exacting a 
 scrupulous compliance with things which the word of 
 God has left indifferent. That sense of imperfection 
 we ought ever to cherish, would incline us to be look- 
 ing up for superior light, and make us think it not im-
 
 probable, that in the long night which has befallen us, 
 we have all more or less mistaken our way, and have 
 much to learn, and much to correct. The very idea 
 of identifying a particular party with the church, would 
 be exploded, the foolish clamour about schism hushed, 
 and no one, however mean or inconsiderable, be expect- 
 ed to surrender his conscience to the claims of ecclesi- 
 astical dominion. The New Testament is surely not 
 so obscure a book that were its contents to fall into the 
 hands of a hundred serious impartial men, it would pro- 
 duce such opposite conclusions, as must necessarily is- 
 sue, in their forming two or more separate communions. 
 It is remarkable, indeed, that the chief points about 
 which real Christians are divided, are points on which 
 that volume is silent ; mere human fabrications which 
 the presumption of men has attached to the Christian 
 system. A larger communication of the spirit of truth 
 would insensibly lead Christians into a similar train of 
 thinking ; and, being more under the guidance of that 
 infallible teacher, they would gradually tend to the same 
 point, and settle in the same conclusions. Without 
 such an influence as this, the coalescing into one com- 
 munity would probably be productive of much mischief; 
 it certainly would do no sort of good, since it would be 
 the mere result of intolerance and pride, acting upon 
 indolence and fear. 
 
 "During the present disjointed state of things, then, 
 nothing remains but for every one to whom the care of 
 any part of the church of Christ is entrusted, to exert 
 himself to the utmost in the promotion of vital religion, 
 in cementing the friendship of the good, and repressing, 
 with a firm and steady hand, the heats and eruptions of 
 party spirit. He will find sufficient employment for his 
 time and his talents, in inculcating the great truths of 
 the Gospel, and endeavouring to "form Christ" in his 
 hearers, without blowing the flames of contention, or 
 widening that breach which is already the disgrace and 
 calamity of the Christian name. Were our efforts uni- 
 formly to take this direction, there would be an identity 
 in the impression made by religious instruction ; the dis- 
 tortion of party features would gradually disappear, and
 
 244 
 
 Christians would everywhere approach toward that 
 ideal beauty spoken of by painters, which is combined 
 of the finest lines and traits conspicuous in individual 
 forms. Since they have all drank into the same spirit, 
 it is manifest nothing is wanting, but a larger portion of 
 that spirit, to lay the foundation of a solid, cordial 
 union. It is to the immoderate attachment to secular 
 interest, the love of power, and the want of reverence 
 for truth, not to the obscurities of revelation, we 
 must impute the unhappy contentions among Chris- 
 tians ; maladies which nothing can correct, but deep 
 and genuine piety. The true schismatic is not so pro- 
 perly the person who declines a compliance with what 
 he judges to be wrong, though he may be mistaken in 
 that judgment, as the man who, like the author before 
 us, sedulously employs every artifice to alienate the 
 affections of good men from each other."* 
 
 5. How desirable is it that religion should prevail 
 more than it does. 
 
 If the spirit of religion is love, then who can avoid 
 longing for its universal dominion ? How much is it to 
 be coveted for the PEACE OF OUR CHURCHES ! It must 
 be confessed, and that with grief and shame, that Zion 
 is not yet a " peaceable habitation ;" nor do all her 
 assemblies present the good and the pleasant sight of 
 brethren dwelling together in unity. Contentions about 
 one thing or another abound. The seeds of discord 
 are plentifully sown, and bear an exuberant crop of 
 the fruits of contention. How many religious com- 
 munities are distracted, to their own injury, the exulta- 
 tion of their enemies, and the discredit of religion ! Ma- 
 ny are the causes which produce this unhappy state of 
 things ; but that which gives force to them all, is the 
 absence or the weakness of love. Here is the grand 
 defect, and all other circumstances are but subsidiary. 
 It is most melancholy and humiliating to discover, when 
 some trilling disagreement occurs, what small attain- 
 ments seemingly flourishing churches have made in this 
 virtue ; how insignificant is the subject over which two 
 
 * Strictures on a work entitled, " Zeal without Innovation."
 
 245 
 
 parties will engage in all the eagerness of contention, 
 and how bitter the spirit with which the contention is 
 carried on. It has been said, that quarrels about religion 
 have been usually maintained with more malevolence 
 than any other. This we deny ; but, at the same time, 
 we must admit that they are often sustained with a mea- 
 sure of acrimony that is a disgrace to all concerned. 
 The usual occasion of disagreement, is either the dis- 
 missal or the choice of a minister. And not unfre- 
 quently do believers wrangle about him who is to teach 
 them religion, till they have lost the very spirit of piety 
 itself. But whatever may be the occasion, want of love 
 is the cause, of all feuds and strifes. 
 
 O ! what churches we should have, if Christian chari- 
 ty were allowed to have its full scope! The pastor 
 would labour with the most earnest, indefatigable, and 
 disinterested zeal for the eternal welfare of the flock, 
 and make it evident that compassion for souls, and not 
 filthy lucre, was the impulse of all his conduct. Affec- 
 tion would beam in his eyes, and breathe in his spirit, 
 while " the law of kindness" would dwell on his lips. 
 He would preside over the people in the meekness of 
 wisdom ; and, instead of proudly lording it over God's 
 heritage, he would rule them in love. He would be 
 gentle among them, " even as a nurse cherisheth her 
 children." Instead of being easily provoked by any 
 little unintentional infringement on his rights, or disre- 
 spect to his dignity, he would forbear with that which 
 was the result of ignorance, and wisely and meekly ex- 
 postulate in reference to that which was the effect of 
 impertinence. Over all his talents, however brilliant, 
 he would put the garment of humility ; and with respect 
 to all his success, however great, he would speak in the 
 language of modesty. He would neither envy his more 
 gifted or successful brethren, nor proudly vaunt over 
 his inferiors. To all his charge, even the most illiterate 
 and obscure, he would conduct himself with the con- 
 descension of true benevolence, put the most favourable 
 construction on the actions of his people, repose in them 
 an honourable confidence, labour to correct their er- 
 22*
 
 246 
 
 rors, whether doctrinal or practical, and have no greater 
 joy than to see them walking in the truth. 
 
 Christian charity would also dictate to the people to- 
 wards their minister, a line of conduct no less pious and 
 amiable : it would lead them to attach themselves de- 
 cidedly and warmly to his person and ministry ; to de- 
 monstrate, in every possible way, their sincere and cor- 
 dial wish to promote his comfort ; to abstain from every- 
 thing that would grieve his mind ; and, by every means 
 in their power, to promote his usefulness. It would 
 not allow them to be offended by his faithful rebukes, 
 but cause them to submit, with Christian frankness and 
 humility, to his cautions, admonitions, and reproofs: it 
 would lead them to interpret, in a candid manner, any 
 little neglects, or unintentional offences : it would make 
 willing and reasonable excuses for his seeming inatten- 
 tion: it would cover, and not expose, his infirmities, if 
 they are such as can comport with sterling piety : it 
 would lead them to manifest a becoming respect for his 
 office, and opinion : and whilst it would leave them in 
 full possession of entire freedom of thought, and manly 
 dignity of conduct, would still prescribe humility and 
 reverence, which the Scriptures claim for those who 
 are set over them in the Lord. 
 
 In the conduct of the people towards each other, love 
 would check all that irritability which is excited by a 
 word, that anger which is cherished till it ripens into 
 malice or revenge. How much is the peace of our 
 churches disturbed by such hot or sullen spirits ! But 
 did this heavenly virtue prevail, care would be taken not 
 to give offence ; and equal care would be in exercise not 
 to take offence: one man would bridle his tongue, lest 
 he should utter words that would grieve ; another would 
 rein in his temper, lest he should be provoked when he 
 ought not; and all would be watchful against whatever 
 would destroy the unity of the spirit and the bond of 
 peace. If any action has been done, or any word 
 spoken of a doubtful kind, no one would suspect an 
 evil motive, but rather be ready to conclude in favour of 
 a good intention : suspicion would be displaced by mu-
 
 247 
 
 tual confidence, and hasty imputations of what is wrong, 
 by the belief or hope of what is right. Instead of cir- 
 culating ill reports of each other, or believing them 
 when circulated, all would entertain too much good- 
 will, and too high an opinion of their brethren, to listen 
 to an insinuation against them. Universal kindness 
 would reign throughout the society ; each would feel an 
 interest in the whole, and, by " whatsoever things are 
 lovely," would promote their comfort and bear their 
 burdens. There would be no struggle for pre-eminence, 
 no grasping at power : such pride would be abhorred, 
 and all would be subject one to another : the rich would 
 not be puffed up, nor vaunt themselves against the poor, 
 nor would the poor envy the rich. In a time of difficul- 
 ty, such as the choice of a minister, there would be a 
 giving up, as far as possible, of individual feeling, and 
 all would consider the general good : no one would sel- 
 fishly wish to have his taste alone consulted, his opinion 
 alone attended to ; no one would obtrude his views upon 
 the rest in an unseemly manner: but each would con- 
 sult all. 
 
 We may again remark, what churches we should 
 have, if love were the ruling principle which governed 
 them. " Then would each of them present a peaceful 
 haven, inviting men to retire from the tossings and pe- 
 rils of this unquiet ocean to a sacred enclosure, a se- 
 questered spot, which the storms and tempests of the 
 world were not permitted to invade :" then would the 
 prayer of Christ be answered, and his people be one, 
 and afford by their unity a demonstration of the divinity 
 of his mission, which the most impious could not resist : 
 then would the church on earth present a calm un- 
 ruffled surface, which should reflect, as from a mirror, a 
 bright resemblance of the church in heaven. Let us, 
 then, for the honour of our principles, for the credit of 
 our common Christianity, for our own peace and com- 
 fort in relation to the body of the people, seek that 
 more of this heavenly spirit may be diffused among all 
 who are called by the name of Christ. 
 
 HOW DESIRABLE IS IT THAT SUCH A RELIGION AS
 
 248 
 
 THIS SHOULD BE SPREAD OVER THE FACE OP THE 
 
 WHOLE EARTH ! In what a miserable condition is our 
 globe. The whole world lieth in the wicked one, is 
 entangled in the coils, and bitten by the fangs, and tor- 
 tured by the venom, of the old serpent, the devil. 
 Justly has the Apostle said, that " the whole creation 
 groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now." 
 Nearly eighteen centuries have passed since he saw this 
 bleeding victim of Satan's cruelty, and heard its groans ; 
 and it is bleeding and groaning still. Wherever we go, 
 either in reality or in imagination, we find ourselves in a 
 vale of tears, where forms of misery, indefinitely varied 
 and almost innumerably multiplied, rise before our eyes, 
 and utter nothing but wo, wo, wo; and who can 
 wonder that our world should thus be little else but a 
 region of misery ] Think upon the passions which pre- 
 dominate in human affairs ; think of the vile affections, 
 which, like furies, tyrannize over the minds of men : 
 wrath, malice, revenge, envy, pride, suspicions, selfish- 
 ness, cruelty, slander, these are the oligarchy of di- 
 abolical tempers, which usurp the dominion of the world 
 in the name of Satan, and which, with something of his 
 power and of his fury, torment the miserable children of 
 men. How much of the most cruel slavery, the most 
 sanguinary warfare, the most remorseless oppression, 
 the most deadly revenge, the most operative mischief, 
 the most crafty subtilty, the most insulting pride, is 
 perpetually at work in the destruction of human happi- 
 ness. The prevalence of love would put a stop to all 
 this : it would beat the sword of war into the plough- 
 share of peace : it would break the galling fetter of 
 slavery, and bid the captive go free : it would change 
 the tyrant into a father : it would convert the venom of 
 malice into the milk of human kindness : it would trans- 
 form the crafty serpent into the innocent dove: it would 
 tame the ferocity of the implacable assassin into clemen- 
 cy ; and would teach him to pronounce forgiveness, who 
 now breathes out nothing but slaughter : it would teach 
 pride to put on humility as a garment: it would give to 
 the vigilant eye of intelligence the expression of candour,
 
 249 
 
 instead of the glance of suspicion ; and would substitute, 
 for the torment of envy, the exquisite delight of that 
 sympathy which can rejoice with those that do rejoice. 
 
 WHAT AN ARGUMENT FOR CHRISTIAN MISSIONS ! 
 AND WHAT A MOTIVE TO THEIR ZEALOUS SUPPORT ! ! 
 
 We have already proved that both Paganism and Ma- 
 hometanism are hostile to a spirit of universal benevo- 
 lence : if, therefore, the world is ever to be subjugated 
 to the mild and beneficial dominion of charity, the con- 
 quest must be made by Christianity. And to this honour 
 is Christianity destined: it was to this theme that the 
 evangelical prophet struck his lyre, when he said 
 " Out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of 
 the Lord from Jerusalem. And he shall judge among 
 the nations, and shall rebuke many people ; and they 
 shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears 
 into pruning hooks : nation shall not lift up sword against 
 nation, neither shall they learn war any more : but they 
 shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig-tree ; 
 and none shall make them afraid." " And there shall 
 come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a Branch 
 shall grow out of his roots ; and righteousness shall be 
 the girdle of his loins, and faithfulness the girdle of his 
 reins. The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the 
 leopard shall lie down with the kid ; and the calf and the 
 young lion and the fatling together ; and a little child 
 shall lead them. And the cow and the bear shall feed ; 
 their young ones shall lie down together : and the lion 
 shall eat straw like the ox. And the sucking child shall 
 play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall 
 put his hand in the cockatrice' den. They shall not hurt 
 nor destroy in all my holy mountain : for the earth shall 
 be full of. the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover 
 the sea." Such is the poetic and beautiful description 
 which is given by the prophet of the harmonizing and 
 benevolent tendency of the Gospel, as well as of its 
 effect wherever its influence is entirely submitted to. 
 How exceedingly is it to be desired, that such a system 
 should be universally prevalent ! The awful description 
 which the Apostle gives us of the idolatry of his times,
 
 250 
 
 and of its demoralizing effects, deeply as it is coloured, 
 and darkly as it is shaded, is not less justly applicable 
 to the Pagan nations of the present day, than it was to 
 those of antiquity. " They have changed the glory of 
 the incorruptible God into an image made like unto cor- 
 ruptible man, and to birds, and fourfooted beasts, and 
 creeping things. Who chariged the truth of God into a 
 lie, and worshipped and served the creature more than 
 the Creator, who is blessed for ever ! Amen. And even 
 as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, 
 God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those 
 things which are not convenient ; being filled with all 
 unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, covetousness, 
 maliciousness : full of envy, debate, murder, deceit, ma- 
 lignity : whisperers, backbiters, haters of God, despite- 
 ful, proud, inventors of evil things, disobedient to pa- 
 rents, without understanding, covenant breakers, with- 
 out natural affection, implacable, unmerciful." What 
 a picture ! ! Who can contemplate it without horror ! 
 Yet such is the state of society such the aspect of the 
 moral world such are the crimes that deform, and pol- 
 lute, and torment, the human race under the reign of 
 Paganism, which, wherever it exists, converts earth into 
 the vestibule of hell, a den of wild beasts, a range of 
 malignant demons, which educates men for fiends 
 amidst the worst of excesses of depravity, and tortures 
 its victims in this world preparatory to their execution in 
 the next. Who that pretends to carry in his bosom the 
 heart of a man, much more who that professes to have 
 the spirit of a Christian, which is the mind of Christ, 
 but must mourn in bitterness of soul over this frightful 
 wilderness, and long to bring these habitations of cruelty 
 under the reign of love? 
 
 Let it be recollected, that whenever the religion of 
 Jesus Christ is felt in its proper influence ; whenever it 
 changes the heart, and sanctifies the life ; it does not 
 merely turn men away from dumb idols, but causes them 
 also to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live 
 Boberly, righteously, and godly, in this present evil 
 world, It does not merely lead to a change of names, a
 
 251 
 
 substitution of one set of religious rites for another ; but 
 while it removes all that is impious in idolatry, it displa- 
 ces all that is odious and abominable in vice. It pre- 
 sents the first table of the law, and says, " Thou shall 
 love God with all thy soul ;" and then holds up the 
 second, and commands us to love our neighbours as 
 ourselves. Wherever the Gospel of Christ is permitted 
 to govern society, it banishes all that can afflict, and in- 
 troduces whatever can comfort, the human race. All 
 the crimes and the curses of society flee before it, while 
 all the blessings of earth follow in its train : it not only 
 brings learning, and arts, and sciences, with all that can 
 adorn the mind and embellish life, but, as its chief bene- 
 fit, it establishes the reign of charity. This it has done 
 to a considerable extent in many places already; and 
 even its enemies have acknowledged it. And he that 
 would see what religion can do, has done, and will yet 
 do, in exalting benevolence on the ruins of cruelty, and 
 in establishing the reign of mercy, let him contemplate, 
 as he may do, through the medium of missionary reports, 
 the once wild and savage Esquimaux, converted into 
 peaceful, harmless, and benevolent followers of the meek 
 and lowly Jesus ; or the once murderous Otaheitans, 
 who revelled in the blood of human sacrifices, and slaugh- 
 tered without remorse their own children, now exhibiting 
 a character remarkable for its clemency and gentleness ; 
 or the once marauding tribes of South Africa, casting 
 away their poisoned arrows, and their assagays, and ex- 
 hibiting a moral transformation as great and striking, as 
 if the lions, that prowled around their tents, were chang- 
 ed by miracles into lambs. And are these the triumphs 
 of that religion, of which the many branches, and the 
 multiplied duties, are summed up in that one word 
 LOVE 1 
 
 Friends of humanity ! by all the love you bear to God 
 or man, I conjure you to labour to the uttermost in ex- 
 tending the religion you profess. Estimate, if you can, 
 the deep guilt of neglecting the cause of Christian mis- 
 sions. None of you have done what you could have 
 done, or what you ought to do, in this most sacred, most
 
 252 
 
 important cause. I ask, what proportion of your pro- 
 perty ought to be put in requisition for promoting the uni- 
 versal reign of charity 1 Is a tenth, or a fifth, or a third, 
 enough for that cause, the object of which is to teach all 
 men that dwell on 'the earth to love God supremely, and 
 each other as themselves 1 enough to be given for the 
 purpose of cementing the whole human family together 
 in a union of affection? enough to give to a cause, 
 which, when it is completely victorious, and complete- 
 ly victorious it will be, will banish pride, and malice, 
 and envy, and revenge, from the abodes of man 1 How 
 can you live in splendour how can you enjoy your 
 luxuries how can you dwell with delight upon your 
 accumulating hoards of wealth, while all this is want- 
 ing to extend the influence of religion ? Alas ! alas ! 
 because you have so little of it in your own soul. Chris- 
 tian benevolence, were it felt in its full force, would lead 
 to self-denial, to economy, to simple habits, to personal 
 sacrifices, in order that you may have more to spare 
 for the great object of Christian missions. 
 
 But in addition to your property, and your influence, 
 give to the cause of missions your private, sincere, fer- 
 vent, believing, and constant prayers. It is only by the 
 power of the Divine, Omnipotent Spirit, that the king- 
 dom of Christ can be established in this selfish world. 
 Read the chapter which we have considered, compare 
 with it the present state of mankind, and then say if 
 aught but the same power which called the chaos out of 
 nothing, and raised this fair and beautiful world out of 
 chaos, can effect a transformation so astonishing and 
 sublime as would be affected, if this region of dark and 
 vengeful passions were converted into an abode of holy, 
 and mild, and benevolent affections. Beseech Jehovah 
 daily, that he would arise and plead his own cause ; for 
 surely love must be eminently the cause of him who is 
 infinite in goodness, and delighteth in mercy. Give him 
 no rest till, in answer to believing and earnest prayer, he 
 shall say, " Behold, I create new heavens, and a new 
 earth : and the former shall not be remembered, nor 
 come into mind. But be ye glad and rejoice for ever in
 
 253 
 
 that which I create : for, behold, I create Jerusalem a 
 rejoicing, and her people a joy. And I will rejoice in 
 Jerusalem, and joy in my people : and the voice of weep- 
 ing shall be no more heard in her, nor the voice of cry- 
 ing. And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I 
 will answer; and whilst they are yet speaking, I will 
 hear. The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, and 
 the lion shall eat straw like the bullock : and dust shall 
 be the serpent's meat. They shall not hurt nor destroy 
 in all my holy mountain, saith the Lord."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 IMPROVEMENT, BY WAY OF EXAMINATION AND HU- 
 MILIATION. 
 
 SELF-EXAMINATION is the duty of every Christians 
 not merely that he may ascertain whether his faith be 
 genuine, but whether it be sufficiently operative. It 
 ought not to be a frequent and undecided question with 
 any one, " Am I in reality a child of God 1" but it 
 should be a constantly recurring inquiry, " Is there any 
 one branch of religious obligation, which, through the 
 deceitfulness of the human heart, I do not feel 1 or, 
 through a criminal heedlessness, I habitually neglect V* 
 The object of self-examination, with a believer, is to 
 supply those defects in his graces, and to put away those 
 remains of his corruptions, which, though they may not 
 prove that he has no piety, prove that he has less than 
 he ought to have. For this purpose, he should often 
 bring his actions and his motives to the standard, and 
 try his whole profession ; as well what he does that he 
 should not do, as what he does not that he should do. 
 If we are to exhort one another daily, lest any of us be 
 hardened through the deceitfulness of sin, we surely 
 ought to examine ourselves daily, for the same reason. 
 Our guilty self-love is perpetually attempting to throw a 
 veil over the sinful infirmities of our nature to hide 
 their criminality from our view ; and thus to keep us in
 
 255 
 
 a state of false peace, by keeping us in ignorance. 
 Against this deceitfulness of our heart, we can only be 
 guarded by a frequent and close examination of our 
 whole selves. 
 
 A frequent examination of our hearts and conduct 
 is necessary, because of the multitude of our daily sins, 
 which are often so minute as to escape the observation 
 of a careless and superficial glance, and so numerous 
 as to be forgotten from one day to another ; and so, 
 they either come not into notice, or pass out of recol- 
 lection : and therefore they should be summed up every 
 evening, and repented of, and forgiven, before we com- 
 pose ourselves to sleep, that nightly returning harbin- 
 ger, and monitor, and image, of approaching death. 
 The advantages of frequent examination are so many 
 and so great, as to recommend the practice strongly to 
 all who are deeply anxious about the welfare of their 
 souls ; by this means we shall not only detect many 
 sins which would otherwise be lost in our attention to 
 greater ones, but we shall more easily destroy them, 
 and more speedily revive our languishing graces ; just 
 as a wound may with greater facility be cured while it 
 is yet fresh and bleeding, and an extinguished taper, 
 while yet it retains a strong sympathy for light, may be 
 rekindled, either by the near contact of a neighbouring 
 flame, or by the timely application of a little well direct- 
 ed breath. " Sins are apt to cluster and combine, when 
 either we are in love with small sins, or when they pro- 
 ceed, from a careless and incurious spirit, into frequency 
 and continuance ; but we may easily keep them asun- 
 der by our daily prayers, and our nightly examinations, 
 and our severe sentences : " for he that despiseth little 
 things," said the son of Sirach, " shall perish by little 
 and little." A frequent examination of our actions 
 will tend to keep the conscience clear, so that the least 
 fresh spot will be more easily seen ; and so tender, that 
 the least new pressure will be felt ; for that which comes 
 upon an already blotted page is scarcely discerned, and 
 that which is added to an already great accumulation 
 is hardly seen or felt, This, also, is the best way to
 
 256 
 
 make our repentance pungent and particular. But 
 on this subject we shall have more to say presently. If 
 self-examination be neglected for want of opportunity, 
 it is plain that those, at least, who have their time at 
 their own command and disposal are far too deeply in- 
 volved in the business of the world and the labyrinths 
 of care : no man ought to allow himself to be so taken 
 up in looking into his secular pursuits, as to have no 
 time to look into the state of his soul ; and to be so 
 greedy after gain, or so intent upon the objects of an 
 earthly ambition, as to be careless about examining 
 whether we are growing in grace, and increasing in the 
 riches of faith and love, discovers a mind which either 
 has no religion at all, or has reason to fear that it has 
 none. 
 
 But besides that cursory retrospect which we should 
 take every evening of the conduct of the day, a por- 
 tion of time should be frequently set apart for the pur- 
 pose of instituting a more minute and rigid inquiry into 
 the state of our personal piety; when, taking in our 
 hand the Word of God, we should descend with this 
 candle of the Lord into the dark and deep recesses of 
 the heart, enter every secret chamber, and pry into 
 every corner to ascertain if anything be hiding itself 
 there which is contrary to the mind and will of God. 
 Many standards will be found in the Scriptures, all con- 
 curring with each other in general purpose and princi- 
 ples, by which this investigation of our spirits should be 
 conducted. We now propose the law of love. 
 
 On these occasions of introspection, we should in- 
 quire how far our faith is working by love. I will con- 
 ceive of a professing Christian who has set apart a por- 
 tion of time, say on a Saturday evening, before he is 
 to eat on the next day the Lord's supper ; or on a Sab- 
 bath evening, when he has received the sacramental 
 memorials of the Saviour's love, to examine into the 
 state, not only of his conduct, but the frame and temper 
 of his spirit. He is anxious to know how far he is liv- 
 ing so as to please God. We can imagine him, after 
 having read the Scriptures, presenting his fervent sup-
 
 257 
 
 plications to God, in the language of the Psalmist, and 
 saying, " Search me, O God, and know my heart ; try 
 me, and know my thoughts ; and see if there be any 
 wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." 
 He now enters upon the business of self-examination ; 
 and the subject of inquiry that evening is the frame of 
 his heart towards his fellow creatures, the state of his 
 mind in reference to the law of love, the measure of 
 his charity, and the infirmities of his temper. Hear his 
 holy colloquies with himself. " I have no just reason, 
 thanks be to sovereign grace ! to question whether I 
 have received the fundamental doctrines of the Gospel. 
 I believe my creed is sound ; nor have I any serious 
 ground for suspecting the sincerity of my faith, or the 
 reality of my conversion : my conduct, too, so far as 
 the estimate of man goes, has, through the help of God, 
 been free from immorality. And though I may with- 
 out presumption say that I love God, yet I am covered 
 with confusion that my love is so weak and lukewarm. 
 But my solemn business at this time is, to examine into 
 the state and measure of my Christian charity; for I 
 am persuaded that whatever knowledge, or faith, or 
 seeming raptures, or supposed communion with God, 
 I may lay claim to, I am but a very imperfect Chris- 
 tian, if I am considerably deficient in love. Taking 
 the apostolic description of this lovely virtue, I will 
 bring my heart to the test. 
 
 " Do I then love, in his sense of the word 1 Is my 
 heart a partaker of this disposition 1 Is the selfishness 
 of my corrupt nature subdued, and made to give way 
 to a spirit of universal benevolence; so that I can 
 truly say I rejoice in happiness, and am conscious of a 
 continual benevolent sympathy with universal being, 
 and of a perpetual efflux of good-will to all creatures 1 
 Do I feel as if my own happiness were receiving con- 
 stant accessions from the happiness of others ; and that 
 my soul, instead of living in her own little world within, 
 an alien from the commonwealth of mankind, indiffer- 
 ent to all but herself, is in union and communion with 
 my species 1 In short, do I know the meaning of the 
 23*
 
 258 
 
 Apostle's emphatic expression, * He that dwelleth in 
 love dwelleth in God, and God in him V But let me 
 descend to particulars. 
 
 " What do I know of the forbearance of love 1 Can I 
 suffer long, or am I easily provoked 1 Am I patient 
 under provocation ; restraining my anger ; keeping my 
 wrath in subjection under the most provoking insults, 
 amidst the basest ingratitude, or the most irritating 
 scorn 1 In my intercourse with my brethren in Christ, 
 am I quick to take offence by any real or supposed 
 slight or impertinence *? Am I so jealous of my own dig- 
 nity, so sensitive, and irritable, as to be roused to anger 
 by any little offence, and transported to wrath by more 
 serious provocations'? Am I revengeful under injuries ; 
 brooding over them in silence, cherishing the remem- 
 brance, and reviving the recollection of them, waiting 
 for an opportunity to retaliate, and rejoicing in the suf- 
 ferings which come upon those that injure me ? or am 
 I easily conciliated, most forward to forgive, and ever 
 ready to return good for evil 1 How have I acted since 
 my last season of self-examination in these particulars ? 
 Let me call to recollection my conduct, that I may see 
 how far I have practised the duty, and exhibited the ex- 
 cellence of Christian meekness. 
 
 " Charity is kind. Is kindness universal, constant, 
 operative kindness characteristic of my conduct 1 ? Is 
 the law of kindness on my lips, its smile upon my coun- 
 tenance, and its activity in my life ? or am I uncivil and 
 uncourteous in speech, frowning and repulsive in my 
 aspect, grudging and {infrequent in acts of generosity ? 
 Have I the character, among my neighbours and ac- 
 quaintance, of a man who can be always depended 
 upon for a favour, when it is needed 1 or, on the con- 
 trary, am I by general report, a very unlikely person to 
 lend a helping hand to a person in necessity 1 Are there 
 any instances of unkindness which I can now call to re- 
 membrance, which have brought dishonour upon my 
 reputation, guilt upon my conscience, reproach upon 
 the cause of religion, and for which, therefore, I ought 
 to seek the pardon of God through Christ !
 
 259 
 
 " Charity envieth not. Am I subject to the torment- 
 ing influence of that truly diabolical temper by which 
 a person is made miserable in himself, and to hate his 
 neighbour or rival, on account of that neighbour's or 
 rival's distinctions ] Am I so truly infernal in my dis- 
 positions, as to sicken and pine at the sight of the suc- 
 cess or happiness of others, and to cherish ill will on 
 that account towards them] When I hear another 
 praised and commended, do I feel a burning of heart 
 within, and an inclination to detract from their fame, 
 and to lower them in the estimation of those who ap- 
 plaud them ; and do I secretly rejoice when anything 
 occurs to lessen and lower them in public opinion, or 
 to strip them of those distinctions which render them the 
 objects of our dislike ? or do I possess that true spirit ol 
 love, which constrains me to rejoice with those that re- 
 joice, to feel pleased with their prosperity, and to con- 
 sider their happinesss as an accession to my own ? 
 Have I, indeed, that benevolence which delights so truly 
 in felicity, as to make me glad at seeing it in the posses- 
 sion of an enemy or a rival 1 
 
 " Charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed vp. Is this 
 descriptive of my spirit, in reference to my own attain- 
 ments and achievements 1 Am I lowly in my own eyes, 
 clothed with humility, modest in the estimate I form of 
 myself, and all that belongs to me "? or am I proud, vain, 
 and ostentatious ; valuing and admiring myself on the 
 ground of any personal, civil, ecclesiastical, or spiritual 
 distinctions. Am I fond of exciting admiration, and 
 obtaining applause 1 or am I content with the approba- 
 tion of my own conscience, and the smile of God 1 Do 
 I wish to make others feel their inferiority, and to suffer 
 under a mortifying sense of it 1 or do I, from the most 
 tender regard to their comfort, conceal, as much as pos- 
 sible, any superiority I may have over them ; and make 
 them easy and happy in my company 1 ? Do I indulge 
 in haughty airs, or maintain a kind affability and an 
 amiable condescension 1 
 
 " Charity doth not behave itself unseemly. Is it my 
 study not to give uneasiness and offence, by anything
 
 260 
 
 unsuitable to my age, sex, rank, station and circum- 
 stances ; anything rude, rough, impertinent, or unbe- 
 coming 1 or am I continually disturbing the comfort of 
 those around me, by indecorous and unsuitable be- 
 haviour 1 
 
 " Charity seeketh not her own. Am I habitually sel- 
 fish, anxious only for my own gratification, and build- 
 ing up my comfort to the annoyance or neglect of 
 others 1 Am I indulging a penurious, avaricious dispo- 
 sition, feasting upon luxuries, and refusing to minister 
 to the relief of human misery, according to the propor- 
 tion in which God has blessed me 1 or am I diffusing 
 abroad my substance, considering that I arn only a stew- 
 ard of what I hold, and must account for it all 1 Am I 
 overbearing and intolerant in discussion and debate, 
 wanting others to sacrifice their views, in order that I 
 may have every thing my own wayl or am I willing to 
 concede and yield, and disposed to give up my own will 
 to the general opinion, and for the general good ? 
 
 " Charity thinketh no evil. Am I suspicious, and 
 apt to impute bad motives to men's conduct ? or am I 
 generous and confiding prone to think the best that 
 truth will allow ? Am I censorious, or candid ? Do 
 I feel more in haste to condemn, than to excuse, and 
 more eager to blame than to exculpate 1 
 
 " Charity rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the 
 truth. What is my disposition toward those who are 
 my opponents ? do 1 delight in, or mourn over, their 
 faults 1 Do I so love them, as to be glad when, by 
 their regard to truth and righteousness, they raise them- 
 selves in public esteem ; and to be sorry when they in- 
 jure their own cause, and give me an advantage over 
 them by their errors and sins 1 Have F made that high 
 attainment in virtue and piety, which leads me to delight 
 in the righteousness of a rival, even when it may seem 
 to exalt him? or am I still so destitute of love, as to say, 
 in reference to his faults, * Ah ! so would I have it ]' 
 
 " Charity covereth all things. Am I prone and anx- 
 ious to conceal the failings of others, or to expose them 1 
 * Believeth all things.' Am I credulous of whatever is
 
 261 
 
 to the advantage of a brother ? ' Hopeth all things.' 
 Where the evidence is not enough to warrant belief, 
 do I indulge an expectation and desire that farther 
 knowledge may explain the matter favourably 1 
 
 " Charity endureth all things. Am I willing to make 
 any exertion, to bear any hardship, to sustain any rea- 
 sonable loss, for the peace and welfare of others 1 or 
 am I so fond of ease, so indolent, so selfish, as to give 
 nothing: but mere ineffectual wishes for their comfort 
 
 o 
 
 and well being ? 
 
 " What measure of holy love have I, of that love 
 which puts forth its energies in such operations as these? 
 Do I so love God, and feel such a sense of his love to 
 me, as to have my soul transformed into this divine tem- 
 per? Does the love of Christ thus constrain me ? Am 
 I so absorbed in the contemplation of that stupendous 
 display of divine benevolence, that unparalleled mani- 
 festation of infinite mercy, which was made in the cross 
 of the Son of God, as to find the selfishness of my na- 
 ture melted, and all its -enmities subdued, by this most 
 amazing and transporting scene 1 I feel, that without 
 love, I cannot have entered into the meaning and de- 
 sign, the moral force and beauty of the great atone- 
 ment ; that I can have no disposition which properly 
 corresponds to that august and interesting spectacle. I 
 see that knowledge is not enough, that belief is not 
 enough, that ecstacy is not enough, that hope is not 
 enough ; that, in fact nothing can come up to the de- 
 mands, to the spirit, to the design, of a religion which 
 has the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ for its central 
 object, and grand support, and distinguishing glory, 
 but a temper of universal and practical benevolence. 
 Have I this? If so, How much of it?" 
 
 Such should be the subject of diligent and frequent 
 examination to every professing Christian. 
 
 HUMILIATION should follow examination. 
 
 The act of humbling and abasing ourselves before 
 God, is a part of the duty not only of sinners, when 
 they make their first application to the mercy seat for
 
 262 
 
 pardon but of believers, through every successive 
 stage of their Christian career. As long as we are the 
 subjects of sin, we ought also to be the subjects of con- 
 trition. We may, through sovereign grace, have been 
 justified by faith, and have been brought into a state of 
 peace with God ; but this does not render a very hum- 
 bling sense and confession of our sins an exercise inap- 
 propriate to our state, any more than it is inconsistent 
 with the relationship of a child to humble himself before 
 his father, for those defects in his obedience, which, 
 though they do not set aside his sonship, are unworthy 
 of it. " If we say we have no sin," says the Apostle, 
 " we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." 
 This language applies to believers, and not merely to 
 unconverted sinners ; and so does that which follows 
 " If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to for- 
 give us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteous- 
 ness." The most perfect assurance of hope does not 
 release us from the duty of abasing ourselves before 
 God ; and if an angel were sent to assure us that we 
 are in a state of acceptance with heaven, we should 
 still lie under obligation to cultivate a contrite and peni- 
 tential frame of mind. Sin, and not merely punish- 
 ment, is the erround of humiliation. It is the most de- 
 testable selfishness to imagine, that, because we are 
 freed from the penal consequences of sin, we are un- 
 der no obligation to lie low in the dust. With what 
 unutterable disgust we should look upon the individual 
 who, because his life had been spared by royal clemen- 
 cy, when it might have been taken by national justice, 
 acted, after his pardon, as if that very pardon had en- 
 titled him to forget his crime, and to live as carelessly 
 and as confidently as he would have done had he never 
 sinned. A pardoned sinner and no believer is any- 
 thing more should ever be a humble and self-abased 
 creature in the sight of God. 
 
 The subject we are now upon shows us what cause 
 there is for humiliation before God. This frame of 
 mind should not be founded upon, or produced, by 
 mere general views of our depraved nature, but by par-
 
 263 
 
 ticular apprehensions in reference to sinful practice ; as 
 long as our confessions are confined to mere acknow- 
 ledgements of a depraved nature, our convictions of sin 
 are not likely to be very deep, nor our sorrow for it 
 very pungent. Such confessions will usually sink into 
 mere formal and sorrowless acknowledgements of 
 transgressions. It is by descending to details ; it is the 
 lively view and deep conviction of specific acts of 
 transgressions, or defects in virtue ; that awakens and 
 sharpens the conscience, and brings the soul to feel 
 that godly sorrow which worketh repentance. One 
 distinctly ascertained defect or transgression es- 
 pecially if it be much dwelt upon in its extent, and in- 
 fluence, and aggravations will do more to humble the 
 soul, than hours spent in mere general confessions of a 
 depraved nature. 
 
 There are many things, on the ground of which no 
 self-abasement can be felt by the Christian who is walk- 
 ing in any degree of religious consistency. He cannot 
 confess that which he has really not been guilty of : he 
 cannot be humbled on account of any act of open im- 
 morality, for he has committed none. In reference to 
 actual vice, he is to be thankful, not humble : he is to 
 be humble, indeed, that he has a nature capable of it, if 
 left of God ; but he is to be thankful that he has not 
 been permitted thus to disgrace himself. It is some- 
 times to be regretted that good people, in their public 
 confessions of sin, are not more definite than they are, 
 and that they do not express the particular sins for 
 which they seek forgiveness of God. Without using 
 language that seems applicable to adultery, and robbe- 
 ry, and drunkenness, our defects in all Christian gra- 
 ces are so numerous and so great, that there is no de- 
 gree of humiliation which is too deep for those defects 
 and omissions of which the holiest man is guilty before 
 God. And we have no need to go beyond the subject 
 of this treatise, to find how exceedingly sinful and vile 
 we must all be in the sight of God. Let us only call to 
 remembrance the truly sublime description which the 
 Apostle has given us of the divine nature, and to which,
 
 264 
 
 of necessity, we have so often referred, " God is love," 
 infinite, pure, and operative love ; let us only recollect 
 his wonderful patience, his diffusive kindness, his aston- 
 ishing mercy even to his enemies ; and then consider 
 that it is our duty to be like him to have a disposition 
 which, in pure, patient, and operative benevolence, 
 ought to resemble his ; that this was once our nature, 
 and will be again, if we reach the celestial state : and 
 surely in such a recollection, we shall find a convincing 
 proof of our present exceeding sinfumess. 
 
 Let it not be replied, that this is subjecting us to too 
 severe a test. By what test can we try our hearts, but 
 the law of God "? What a proof is it of sin, when we find 
 that the instances in which we have committed it are so 
 numerous, that we want to get rid of the law by which 
 it is proved and detected 1 Oh ! what a fallen nature is 
 ours, and how low has it sunk ! We are not now ex- 
 amining it in its worst state, as it is seen among Pagans 
 and savages, or even the best of the heathen ; nor as it 
 is seen in the worst parts of Christendom ; nor as it ap- 
 pears in the best of the unrenewed portions of man- 
 kind ; no ; but as it is exhibited in the Church of 
 Christ, in the enlightened and sanctified portions of the 
 family of man. 
 
 Must we not, after this survey, exclaim with the 
 Psalmist " Who can understand his errors 1 cleanse 
 thou me from secret faults !" Who can carry in his 
 bosom a proud heart, or on his brow a lofty mien ? 
 Who can look with complacency upon his poor starve- 
 ling graces, and doat with fond and pharisaic eyes upon 
 his own righteousness 1 Who is not stripped at once, 
 in his own view, of all his imperfect virtues ; and pre- 
 sented to his own contemplation in the naked deformity 
 of a poor, sinful, and imperfect creature, who has no 
 ground for pride, but most ample and abundant cause 
 for the deepest humiliation 1 Let the men who value 
 themselves so highly on the ground of their moral digni- 
 ty, and who are regarded by others as almost sinless cha- 
 racters, and who feel as if they had little or no occasion 
 for the exercise of a penitential frame of mind ; who
 
 265 
 
 pity as fanaticism, or scorn as hypocrisy, those lowly 
 confessions which Christians make at the footstool 
 of the divine throne ; let them come to this ordeal 
 and try themselves by this standard, that they may learn 
 how ill grounded is their pride, and how little occa- 
 sion they have to boast of their virtue ! Would they 
 like that any human eye should be able to trace all the 
 movements of their hearts, and see all the workings of 
 envy, and suspicion, and wrath, and selfishness, which 
 the eye of Deity so often sees there 1 Say not that these 
 are only the infirmities of our nature, to which the wisest 
 and the best of the human race are ever subject in this 
 world of imperfection ; because this is confessing how 
 deeply depraved is mankind, even in their best state. 
 Can envy, and pride, and selfishness, and suspicion, 
 and revenge, be looked upon as mere piccadilloes, 
 which call for neither humiliation nor grief? Are they 
 not the germs of all those crimes which have deluged 
 the earth with blood, filled it with misery, and caused 
 the whole creation to groan together until now ? Mur- 
 ders, treasons, wars, massacres, with all the lighter 
 crimes of robberies, extortions, and oppressions, have all 
 sprung up from these passions. 
 
 What need, then, have we all of that great sacrifice 
 which beareth away the sin of the world ? and what need 
 of a perpetually recurring application, by faith and re- 
 pentance, to that blood which speaketh better things 
 than the blood of Abel, and which cleanseth from all 
 sin 1 What cause have we to repair nightly to the throne 
 of grace, that we may obtain mercy ; and daily, that we 
 may find grace to help in time of need. With the eye 
 of faith upon the propitiatory offering that was presented 
 to Divine justice by the Son of God upon the cross, let 
 us continually approach the awful Majesty of heaven 
 and earth, saying " God be merciful to me a sinner!"
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 IMPROVEMENT, BY WAY OF EXHORTATION. 
 
 LOVE may be enforced upon us by a consideration of, 
 
 1 . Our own peace and comfort. 
 
 We are not to be indifferent to our own happiness ; 
 we cannot be : man can no more will his own misery, or 
 be careless about his own comfort, than he can cease to 
 exist. To seek for enjoyment is the first law of our exist- 
 ence an inherent and inseparable propensity of our na- 
 ture. In this respect, the angels, and the spirits of the 
 just above, agree with man upon the earth. There is 
 no sin, therefore, in desiring to. be happy ; we could not 
 do otherwise, if we would. Ever since the entrance of 
 sin, however, the heart is corrupted inr its taste, so as to 
 put evil for good ; and, mistaking the nature of happi- 
 ness, man of course mistakes the way to obtain it. All 
 the pursuits of the world, however varying, arid how- 
 ever unlawful, are the operations of this propensity of 
 the human mind; they are all but so many efforts to ob- 
 tain happiness. To this feeling of the human bosom 
 many of the most comprehensive, beautiful, and encou- 
 raging invitations of the Gospel of Christ are addressed ; 
 and it is at once the glory and the peculiarity of the (Jos- 
 pel, that it addresses itself first, not to our moral, but to 
 our natural, wants. Ft meets us, not as craving after holi- 
 ness, for of this an unenlightened, unconverted sinner
 
 267 
 
 knows nothing; but as craving after happiness, a de- 
 sire common to every human bosom : this is the mean- 
 ing of that exquisite language with which the Apostle 
 almost closes the Word of God " The Spirit and the 
 bride say, Come. And let him that hrareth say, Come. 
 And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, 
 let him take the water of life freely." The same view 
 appertains to the language of the Prophet " Ho, every 
 one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters." The thirst 
 here mentioned is not, as has been frequently but erro- 
 neously stated, the strong desire of a convinced sinner 
 after the blessings of the Gospel ; but that of a misera- 
 ble creature after happiness. The persons addressed by 
 the Prophet are such as were spending their money for 
 that which was not bread, and their labour for that 
 which satisfieth not ; expressions which will not apply to 
 those who are desiring Christ, and the blessings of his 
 Gospel, but to those who are endeavouring to be happy 
 without them : to all these the Lord Jesus is represent- 
 ed as saying, " Hearken diligently unto me. Come un- 
 to me : I will give you the sure mercies of David ; then 
 shall ye eat that which is good, and your soul shall de- 
 light itself in fatness. I am the way to happiness. 
 Men shall be blessed in me." The blessing of the Gos- 
 pel, by which men are made happy, is not only justifi- 
 cation through the righteousness of Christ, but also 
 sanctification by his Spirit. An unrcnewed heart can 
 no more be happy in any place or circumstances, than 
 a diseased body can be rendered easy and comforta- 
 ble by situation and external advantages. Until the 
 carnal mind, which is enmity against God, be regenera- 
 ted, and brought to love God supremely, there can be 
 no peace ; as long as the heart is under the dominion of 
 predominant selfishness, and all those lusts and passions 
 to which it gives rise, it must be miserable. In the ab- 
 sence of love, the human bosom must be the seat of un- 
 easiness and distress. Happiness does not arise from pos- 
 sessions, so much as from dispositions : it is not what a man 
 has, or where he dwells, but what he is. Whatever be 
 the great source of felicity, the springs of it must be
 
 268 
 
 seated in our nature. There are certain tempers, the 
 absence of which would render heaven a place of tor- 
 ment to us ; and others, which would raise for us an 
 Eden in the dreariest wilderness on earth. 
 
 Love is essential to the happiness of a moral agent. 
 This was the original rectitude of our nature. Man 
 was made for love ; to love God supremely, and to love 
 whatever is like God, or related to him. This disposi- 
 tion was not only his temper in Paradise, but it was the 
 very paradise of his soul, in which he held the sweetest 
 communion with God and universal being. This tuned 
 his heart to harmony with his Maker and his fellow crea- 
 tures. Every movement of his heart was a movement 
 of love ; and all his desires so many aspirations of love : 
 this constituted at once his honour and his happiness. 
 Hence, the implantation of this grace in his soul is the 
 bringing back of man again to his original state, to his 
 " divinely natural condition ;" and, therefore, it is the 
 restoration of him to true complacency and satisfaction. 
 It is true that many, in the absence of this, pretend to 
 some kind of enjoyment, and have it too ; for there are 
 pleasures of sin, such as they are : but as to solid hap- 
 piness, that which befits and satisfies a rational, mo- 
 ral, and immortal creature, it may with the greatest 
 truth be affirmed, that the wicked are like the troubled 
 sea, that cannot rest, but is continually casting up mire 
 and dirt. 
 
 Let any one consider the passions which love expels from 
 the bosom, or which it keeps in subjection where it does 
 not eradicate them, and ask if that heart can be the seat 
 of comfort, or the region of peace, where they predomi- 
 nate. As well may we expect quietude and comfort in 
 a haunt of banditti, or in a den of wild beasts, or in a 
 field of battle, as in a heart where anger, wrath, malice, 
 envy, pride, and revenge, have taken up their abode. 
 On the other hand, how calm, and composed, and 
 cheerful, is that heart, where meekness is the presiding 
 spirit ; where love to God has introduced benevolence 
 to man, a temper which follows it as closely as its 
 shadow, and has subjugated the temper to the dominion
 
 269 
 
 of charity ! Let any one consult his own experience, 
 and inquire if there be not an ineffable delight in the 
 feelings of benevolent regard ; whether such a state do 
 not resemble one of those calm and glowing summer 
 evenings, when nature seems to be quietly reclining on 
 the bosom of peace. But how demon-like is the feeling 
 when the turbulent passions gain the ascendency : what 
 agitation and what torment are the result ! 
 
 Love is the very element which is congenial to the Holy 
 Ghost, and renders the heart the abode of his delight. 
 " The irascible passions," says Mr. Hall, in his beauti- 
 ful tract on the Work of the Spirit, " surround the soul 
 with a sort of troubled atmosphere, than which nothing 
 is more contrary to the calm and holy light in which the 
 Spirit loves to dwell." " Let all bitterness, and wrath, 
 and clamour, and evil-speaking, be put away from you, 
 with all malice ; and grieve not the Spirit of God ;" an 
 expression as we have already considered, which, from 
 its context, intimates that the Spirit of God is suscepti- 
 ble of offence ; and peculiarly so, by any neglect or 
 violation of the law of love. Every thing connected 
 with our spiritual well-being depends on the indwelling 
 of the Holy Ghost in our hearts : when this divine guest 
 retires from our souls, and withdraws his gracious in- 
 fluences, he gives utterance at the same time to the 
 solemn denunciation, " Wo be unto you", if my soul de- 
 part from you." The heart of the believer assumes 
 then the character and appearance of a temple forsaken 
 by its deity: all is ruin and desolation; the sacrifice, 
 ceases, the altar is overthrown, the fire is extinguished. 
 We have all much need to present with the utmost fer- 
 vour the supplication of the Psalmist, " Cast me not 
 away from thy presence, and take not thy Holy Spirit 
 from me." No witness to our sonship, no consolations, 
 no faith, no hope, no growth in grace, no joy and peace 
 in believing, can then be enjoyed ; instead of this we 
 shall be abandoned to worldly-mindedness, unbelief, 
 despondency, gloomy apprehensions, and foreboding 
 anticipations. ' Now the Spirit mil retire from that heart 
 24*
 
 270 
 
 which is destitute of love, and which is perpetually in- 
 dulging in tempers of an opposite description. If, then, 
 you would retain this divine visitant this illustrious 
 guest ; if you would indeed continue to be the temples 
 of the Holy Ghost ; if you would have God abiding in 
 you ; cultivate the grace of charity ; invite him to your 
 souls for this very purpose ; yield yourselves to his ten- 
 der solicitations and gracious drawings; open your 
 minds to his gentle illapses ; and when at any time you 
 feel an unusual relenting of mind, follow up the im- 
 pression and resign your whole selves to the benign 
 power of which you are at that time the happy subjects. 
 Love will promote your own peace and comfort, by 
 conciliating the good-will and kindness of others. In all 
 the commerce of life, we are generally paid back in the 
 same kind of conduct which we maintain towards oth- 
 ers. Ill will, and pride, and envy, and selfishness, are 
 sure to excite and to array against us the bad passions 
 of mankind. Under such circumstances, many will 
 take delight in annoying us ; all our unkindnesses will 
 come back upon us in innumerable acts of retaliation. 
 But love conciliates esteem. " The meek shall inherit 
 the earth ;" their quiet, and inoffensive, and benevolent 
 spirit subdues, by a mild but irresistible power, the most 
 violent and injurious tempers. It has often led the lion, 
 the tiger, and the serpent, by its soft and silken cord; 
 it has charmed to tameness not only the fierceness of 
 wild beasts, but the frantic rage of the furies. It was 
 thus that Jacob subdued the rage of Esau, who was 
 marching against him with purposes of revenge ; so that 
 instead of executing his wrath, "he ran to meet him, and 
 embraced him, and fell upon his neck, and kissed him." 
 It was thus that David softened the heart of Saul, and 
 disarmed his malignity of its murderous intention. " Is 
 this the voice of my son David ?" said the royal persecu- 
 tor ; " and he lifted up his voice, and wept, saying to 
 David, Thou art more righteous than I, for thou hast 
 rewarded me good, whereas I have rewarded thee evil/' 
 "Who is he that will harm you," said the Apostle, "if
 
 271 
 
 you are followers of that which is good ?' Who can be 
 the enemy of charity 1 Who will subject himself to 
 the odium and reproach of being unkind to love 1 
 
 In all these ways do we promote our own peace by 
 the cultivation of this temper. And can we be indif- 
 ferent to our own comfort 1 Is it a matter of no mo- 
 ment to us, whether our bosom be the seat of quietude 
 or agitation 1 ? Oh no; it is not, it cannot be. But we 
 have had our attention too much drawn off from our- 
 selves. We have forgotten that it is said, the good man 
 shall be satisfied from himself. We have thought or 
 acted too much as if we thought the sources of peace 
 were without us, and beyond us. We are not yet 
 cured of the disease of earthly-mindedness. We still la- 
 bour under the mistake, that happiness is something un- 
 connected with moral dispostion ; that it is a matter 
 foreign from ourselves, and arising from the adventitious 
 circumstances of wealth, and rank, and fame. It is 
 time to take another course, to try another scheme, 
 and to adopt other means. Let us seek God's grace 
 to open springs of pleasure in ourselves. Not that we 
 are to seek in ourselves for joy and peace, when suffer- 
 ing under a consciousness of sin ; not that, as sinners, 
 we are to seek relief from the burden of guilt in our 
 own virtues or graces ; not that we are in any sense to 
 look to our own works, as constituting our justifying 
 righteousness : in all these views of our case, we must 
 rejoice only in the Lord; but as those who are justified, 
 and at peace with God through Christ, we are to do the 
 work of righteousness, which is peace, and enjoy the 
 effect of righteousness, which is quietness and assurance 
 for ever: we are to covet the rejoicing which Paul 
 speaks of as arising from " the testimony of our con- 
 science, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with 
 fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had 
 our conversation in the world." There is the joy of 
 justification, and the joy of sanctification : one, the de- 
 light of being restored to God's favour by the work of 
 Christ, and the other the joy of being restored to God's 
 image by the work of the spirit. Many seem afraid of
 
 272 
 
 
 
 the joys of holiness, and count all delight but that of 
 faith to be a mere effervescence of self-righteousness, 
 and which only intoxicates the soul with pride. Why, 
 then, has our Lord pronounced his sevenfold beatitude 
 on the graces of a renewed mind 1 Why has he thus 
 so emphatically and solemnly connected happiness with 
 holiness 1 The angels are happy, because they are ho- 
 ly : and the heavenly felicity is the perfection of sancti- 
 ty. In proportion, therefore, as we give ourselves up 
 to the influence and the government of love, we ap- 
 proach to the blessedness of the spirits of just men 
 made perfect. He that lives in love shall drink of the 
 waters of his own cistern, and be satisfied ; he shall, 
 every morning, find this heavenly manna lying upon the 
 surface of his soul, and be fed with it to eternal life ; 
 and finding himself united by faith to the truth, he shall 
 find peace within, though in the world he should have 
 tribulation. 
 
 True religion is no sullen stoicism, or gloomy melan- 
 choly ; it is not an enthralling tyranny exercised over 
 the noble and generous sentiments of love and delight, 
 as those who are strangers to it imagine : but it is full 
 of a vigorous and masculine felicity, such as ennobles, 
 instead of degrading, the soul ; such as invigorates, in- 
 stead of enervating, its powers ; such as does not dis- 
 pirit and sadden the mind afterwards, when the season 
 of enjoyment is gone by, as do earthly and sensual 
 pleasures ; but elevates its views and purposes, and 
 strengthens it for lofty enterprise and heroic deeds, by 
 giving it to drink of the river of life, clear as crystal, 
 which flows out of the throne of God and of the Lamb, 
 and refreshing it with what, in a true and a holy sense, 
 may be called the nectar of immortality. That reli- 
 gion which does not consist in mere airy notions, in 
 cold and heartless orthodoxy, in pharisaic forms and 
 ceremonies, but in faith working by love, love to God, 
 to Christ, to the brethren, and to the world, does 
 sometimes, in its higher elevations, lead the soul into a 
 mount of transfiguration, where it glows amidst the 
 splendour that falls on it from the excellent glory : or
 
 273 
 
 takes it to the top of Pisgah, where it sees the distant 
 prospect of the promised land ; thus placing it in the 
 porch of heaven, and on the confines of eternity. 
 
 2. Love prepares the soul for making greater attain- 
 ment in all other parts of religion. It is produced by 
 knowledge and faith ; but, by a reaction, it increases 
 the power of its own cause. It is just that state of 
 heart, which is adapted to the growth of all the plants 
 of religion, that without it are soon spoiled by the im- 
 pure droppings of our own corrupt and selfish affec- 
 tions. How much will our growth in knowledge be 
 aided by this state of soul 1 "If any man will do the 
 will of God," said Christ, " he shall know of the doc- 
 trine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of my- 
 self." Disposition prepares for knowledge. When 
 Zoroaster's scholars asked him what they should do to 
 get winged souls, such as might soar aloft in the bright 
 beams of truth, he bade them bathe in the waters of 
 life ; and upon being required to state what they are, 
 replied, " The four cardinal virtues, which are the four 
 rivers of Paradise." The reason why truth prevails 
 no more in the world, is because there is so little love. 
 Our views are contracted and dim, not because of 
 the narrowness of the prospect or the want of a sun 
 to enlighten it, but because both the luminary and 
 the scene are veiled by those mists which our corrup- 
 tions send up from our hearts to becloud our under- 
 standings. The holier we are, the clearer will the truth 
 appear to our intellect, and the better able shall we be 
 to bear the brightness of his glory : even as our Lord 
 declares, that it is purity of heart which must prepare 
 us to sustain the beatific vision. The pagan sages also 
 prescribe to their pupils a certain moral disposition, as 
 essential to advancement in knowledge ; and so does 
 Christianity. Plato taught, that he who, by universal 
 love and holy affection, was raised above the dominion 
 of selfishness, came into the nearest union with God, 
 and attained to the highest intellectual life : and this is 
 the unction of the Holy One, mentioned by the Apos- 
 tle whereby we know all things. Our souls are too
 
 274 
 
 clouded and too agitated by the bad feelings of our 
 hearts, to make great attainments in holy light. The 
 moral excellence of the truth is hidden from us ; it pas- 
 ses before us in dark outline, an awful and majestic 
 form ; we see its back parts, but we discover not the 
 brightness and the beauty of its countenance, as we 
 might do, on account of our want of holy conformity 
 to its nature, and of fitness for its fellowship. Let us, 
 then grow in love; that we may grow in knowledge. 
 
 And with respect to faith, the more we are brought 
 to feel the influence of the great scheme of redeeming 
 love, in transforming us into its own image, and causing 
 us to love others, as God for Christ's sake has loved us, 
 the more firm will be our conviction of the divine ori- 
 gin of the plan which has thus wrought so marvellous 
 a change upon us. He that believeth hath the witness 
 in himself, in the revolution of feeling, of motive; and 
 of aim, which has been produced in his soul. To him the 
 experimental evidence of the truth of the Gospel appears 
 with a brightness which none of the rest possess. He is 
 himself an evidence of the divine power which accompa- 
 lii'js the truth. No subtle argumentation can reason 
 him out of the consciousness of that change and de- 
 liverance which he has experienced from predominant 
 selfishness to love. If all Christians acted fully up to 
 their principles, and drank as deeply as they might do, 
 and should do, of the spirit of charity, the impress of 
 In -M TII would be so clearly enstamped upon the church, 
 that the divinity of the Gospel could no longer remain 
 a matter of question A\ iih any. Who can doubt the 
 heavenly origin of that system which has raised him 
 not only to a heavenly hope, but to a heavenly teiprper ? 
 
 3. The credit and honour of religion require that we 
 should seek after higher attainments in love. It is well 
 known by all who possess only the most superficial ac- 
 qiKiiiitanct! with the Word of God, that the end and de- 
 sign of the great scheme of revealed truth, a scheme 
 which occupied the councils of heaven from eternity, 
 and was accomplished by an incarnation of God him- 
 self; that the end for which the Son of God was cruci-
 
 275 
 
 fied, a mystery which angels desire to look into, was 
 not merely to bring a set of notions into the world, and 
 to induce men to change one class of opinions and forms 
 for another, still leaving the heart of man as impure and 
 selfish as ever : on the contrary, it is known that God 
 has come down to our nature, to raise us to his; that 
 the whole plan of salvation terminates in the renewal 
 and perfection of the human race in the principles of 
 purity and benevolence. It has been declared, wher- 
 ever Christianity has travelled, that the essence of re- 
 ligion is love. Hence expectations, which, though 
 rising high, are well founded, have been indulged in 
 reference to the benign and holy temper of the follow- 
 ers of the Lamb. Men have said, " Let us see how 
 those Christians conduct themselves." What disgust 
 and disappointment have been, in many cases, and to a 
 wide extent, the result ! Has the church of God yet 
 answered to its own professions, or to the expectations 
 of its spectators and enemies 1 Has religion derived 
 all the advantage, in the way of attestation and recom- 
 mendation, which it should, from the conduct of its 
 friends 1 Are they seen everywhere so meek, so just, 
 so kind, so candid, so benevolent, so humble, as to 
 excite admiration, and to extort the concession that the 
 principles which could produce such conduct must be 
 from heaven ? On the contrary, have not multitudes 
 who judge of Christianity, not as they should do by it- 
 self, but by the conduct of its professors, received, from 
 the offensive exhibitions of pride, and selfishness, and 
 malice, which they are doomed to witness sometimes in 
 the church, an unutterable disgust, an invincible preju- 
 dice against Christianity 1 Where is the spirit of charity 
 which was exhibited in the great Author of Christianity, 
 and which is enjoined in his precepts, and contained in 
 his system 1 ? is a question a thousand times asked, even 
 by those who live in a Christian land, but who see little 
 there of universal love. Creeds and catechisms, forms 
 and ceremonies, devotional seasons and religious ob- 
 servances, will be thought of tittle worth, and will do 
 little to ensure the esteem and to engage the imitation
 
 276 
 
 of mankind, in the absence of that disposition which all 
 these things are adapted and intended to produce. The 
 world's demand of the church is for love : " We have 
 had," say they, " enough of opinions; let us now have 
 actions : we have had more than enough of articles of 
 faith ; let us now see more of the fruits of love." And 
 how shall we meet that demand 1 Not by exhibiting less 
 of truth, but more of love : not by giving up our creeds, 
 or our forms, but by carrying them out into all the beau- 
 tiful effects of beneficence and purity. 
 
 Christians ; the character of religion is entrusted to 
 our keeping, and we are continually defaming it, or 
 raising its reputation ; and are either betraying it into the 
 hands of its enemies, or conciliating their esteem to- 
 wards it. It is high time for us to be more aware of our 
 responsibility ; high time for us to consider that we are 
 perpetually employed in increasing or diminishing the 
 ignominy of the cross. The good conduct of professors 
 is a converting ordinance, and an edifying one too. 
 " Let your light so shine before men, that they, seeing 
 your good works, may glorify God your heavenly 
 father." " Shine as lights of the world, holding forth 
 the word of life." How 1 Not by attachment to doc- 
 trine merely : no ; the light of truth will do nothing with- 
 out the light of love. A fiery zeal for truth, unaccom- 
 panied by love, is the meteor that misleads, or the light- 
 ning that kills, or the eruption that overwhelms and 
 consumes ; all of which men are afraid of, and retire 
 from : but a zeal for the truth, which is accompanied by 
 benevolence, and produces it, is like the orb of day, 
 men come to its light, and flock to the brightness of its 
 rising. 
 
 O that my feeble voice could be heard, and my coun- 
 sel followed, when I call the followers of Christ to a seri- 
 ous consideration of the necessity, for the sake of the 
 credit of religion, of being like their great Saviour and 
 leader ! O that my words could have weight, when I 
 entreat them, as they regard the reputation of that Gos- 
 pel which is all their salvation and all their desire, to 
 covet earnestly, and to pursue constantly, this " more
 
 277 
 
 excellent way !" O that I could prevail, when I beseech 
 them aye, beseech them to study the genius of their 
 religion in its facts, doctrines, duties, and examples, to 
 see if it be not love ! O that I could succeed in my 
 wishes and my efforts, that they might no longer, by the 
 indulgence of their passions, strengthen the bands of in- 
 iquity which bind men to their sins, and raise an enmity 
 against religion which shall aid and accelerate the work 
 of damnation ! O that a new era would commence in the 
 history of the church, when finding what a cloud had 
 been brought upon the truth as it is in Jesus, by the bigo- 
 try, intolerance, and enormous cruelties of corrupt and 
 persecuting communities ; by the spirit of party which 
 has, more or less, infected all sects ; by the rancour of 
 controversy; by the passion for war; by the pride of 
 pharisaism ; by the schisms of the brethren ; by the envy, 
 covetousness, and malice, of professors ; all true Chris- 
 tians would be baptized afresh unto repentance in the 
 pure and peaceful waters of the sanctuary, confessing 
 their sins of uncharitableness and ill will : then might it 
 be expected that, as in the case of the Divine head, so in 
 that of the mystical body, the Holy Ghost, in his dove- 
 like form, would descend, to " rest upon it," and, by an 
 earthly glory, prove and display its heavenly origin. 
 
 4. By this means, we shall be enabled, in a very 
 eminent degree, to glorify God. For a man to live for 
 himself, as the ultimate end of his existence, is no less 
 mean, and low, and little, than it is wicked. Selfish- 
 ness of this kind not only pollutes the soul, but degrades 
 it : it limits its desires within a very narrow compass ; 
 imprisons its hopes in a poor contemptible hovel ; and 
 drags down its ambition from the glory of the infinite 
 and eternal God, to the paltry and insignificant interests 
 of a finite and unworthy creature. The heart of the 
 real Christian is too large to be compressed within such 
 boundaries : understanding that God is the author of his 
 existence, he makes him the end of it ; that as he came 
 from him, he may be continually returning to him. 
 Everything, in point of dignity and elevation, is to be 
 estimated by the end it seeks. Its aims give it what- 
 
 25
 
 278 
 
 ever value it possesses, and fashion it into their own 
 likeness. Nothing can make that great, which only 
 aims at what is little ; while a sublime nature is impart- 
 ed to that which seeks a sublime end. Now, a higher 
 end, no creature in any world, however exalted, can 
 propose to itself, than the glory of God ; and a lower 
 one, the humblest believer in all God's family on earth 
 should never seek. This is, indeed, to ennoble the 
 soul ; and enlarges it into a universal and comprehen- 
 sive capacity of enjoying that one unbounded goodness, 
 which is God himself; it makes it spread out and dilate 
 itself in the infinite sphere of the Divine Being and bless- 
 edness, and makes it live in the fulness of him that fill- 
 eth all in all. " We glorify God, by entertaining the 
 impression of his glory upon us, and not by communi- 
 cating any kind of glory to him. Then does a good 
 man become the tabernacle of God, wherein the divine 
 Shechinah does rest, and which the divine glory fills, 
 when the frame of his mind and life is wholly according 
 to that idea and pattern which he receives from the 
 mount. We best glorify him, when we grow most like 
 him ; and we then act most for his glory, when a true 
 spirit of sanctity, justice, and meekness, runs through 
 all our actions ; when we so live as becomes those that 
 converse with the great mind and wisdom of the whole 
 world ; with that Almighty Spirit that made, supports, 
 and governs all things ; with that Being from whence all 
 good flows, and in which there is no spot, stain, or 
 shadow of evil ; and so, being captivated and overcome 
 by the sense of divine loveliness and goodness, endea- 
 vour to be like him, and to conform ourselves as much 
 as may be to him. As God's seeking his own glory in 
 respect of us is most properly the flowing forth of his 
 goodness upon us ; so our seeking the glory of God is 
 most properly our endeavouring a participation of his 
 goodness, and ;m mniest incessant pursuing after the 
 divine perfection. When God becomes so great in our 
 eyes, and all created things so little, that we reckon nothing 
 as worthy of our aims and ambition, but a serious par- 
 ticipation of the divine nature, and the exercise of di-
 
 279 
 
 vine virtues love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, 
 goodness, and the like ; when the soul, beholding the in- 
 finite beauty and loveliness of the Divinity, and then 
 looking down and beholding all created perfection man- 
 tled over with darkness, is ravished into love and admi- 
 ration of that never-setting brightness, and endeavours 
 after the greatest resemblance of God, in justice, love, 
 and goodness ; when conversing with him by a secret 
 feeling of the virtue, sweetness, and power of his good- 
 ness, we endeavour to assimilate ourselves to him ; 
 then we may be said to glorify him indeed."* These fine 
 sentiments should be engraven on our hearts, that they 
 may be constantly reduced by us to practice. O, who 
 that would have his nature exalted to the highest pitch of 
 honour and happiness, ought not to cultivate that dispo- 
 sition which is the brightest representation contained in 
 our world of its Divine Creator. To be the instrument 
 of giving publicity to human excellence, of fixing the at- 
 tention of others upon those qualities which, although 
 eminently praiseworthy, were but little known, and ex- 
 citing admiration on their behalf, is no mean or unin- 
 teresting employment; but to exhibit a temper, which is 
 the likeness of God, to manifest a virtue, in reference to 
 which it may be said that it is an image of Deity, what 
 an unspeakable dignity and delight. This is, in the 
 highest sense of the term, to be raised into fellowship 
 with God, a word that signifies not only an act of in- 
 tercourse, but a state of communion ; a communion of 
 ends and aims, a kind of partnership in purpose and pur- 
 suit God is ever seeking his own glory, as his ultimate 
 aim in all his worts : his perfection prevents him from 
 seeking a lower end, and a higher he cannot seek : to 
 manifest himself is his supreme purpose ; and we can 
 easily imagine that the manifestation of love is the end to 
 which all the other displays of his attributes are made 
 subservient. Have we any hallowed ambition in our 
 nature here is scope for its gratification, here is an ob- 
 
 * " Select Discourses, by John Smith;" a book which for its com- 
 bination of learning:, genius, and piety, has scarcely its parallel in the 
 English language.
 
 280 
 
 ject towards which we may let forth all its energies, to 
 hold communion with God in the manifestation of his 
 glory : what can angels do more, except it be to do it 
 more perfectly 1 Christians ; see your high vocation : 
 you are set apart not only by God, but for him ; consti- 
 tuted a people, to show forth his praise ; appointed, not 
 only to receive his grace, but to reflect his beauty. Your 
 highest glory is to manifest His, His image is the rich- 
 est ornament of your moral nature ; and to show it to 
 the world, your great business upon earth. The mean- 
 est Christian shows forth more of God than the heavens 
 which declare his glory, and the firmament which show- 
 eth his handy work : he is a brighter object in the uni- 
 verse, and teaches more of its infinite Author, than the 
 sun in his mid-day splendour, or the moon in her beauty, 
 attended by her starry train, that glitter upon the vault 
 of night. But to rise to this eminence, we must excel 
 in love ; we must put forth all its excellencies, and put 
 them forth in all their vigour, and fulness, and harmo- 
 ny, each in its time, and its place, and its occasion ; 
 for then shall we be like God : and to be like him is, in 
 the highest sense, to glorify him ; and to glorify him, by 
 being made partakers of a divine nature, is to receive, 
 so far as a creature can receive it, a kind of inferior 
 apotheosis, and to live up to the very height of our being, 
 our honour, and our bliss. 
 
 5. Another motive, and it is the last we shall ad- 
 vance, for the cultivation of love is, that it is the state 
 of mind which carries the soul on to its ultimate perfection 
 in the celestial state, meetens it for that state, and gives it a 
 foretaste of its felicity. 
 
 It has been observed by the learned CUDWORTH, who 
 appears to have borrowed the idea from PLUTARCH, 
 that Divine Wisdom hath so ordered the frame of the 
 whole universe, that every thing should have its own ap- 
 propriate receptacle, to which it shall be drawn by all 
 the mighty force of an irresistible affinity : and as all 
 heavenly bodies press towards the common centre of 
 gravity, so is all sin, by a kind of strong sympathy and 
 magnetic influence, drawn towards hell ; while, on the
 
 281 
 
 other hand, all holiness is continually drawn upwards to 
 heaven, to embosom itself in glory. Hell is nothing 
 else but that orb in which all evil moves ; and heaven is 
 the opposite hemisphere of light, where holiness, which 
 is perfect love, eternally revolves. Remove sin and 
 disobedience out of hell, it will immediately lose its dark- 
 ness, and shine out in all the serenity and beauty of hea- 
 ven ; remove love from heaven, and its sun will set 
 amidst the darkness and the storms of everlasting night. 
 Heaven is not merely a thing to come ; it is in one sense 
 a present possession ; for " he that believeth in the Son 
 hath everlasting life." It is rather a state than a place, 
 a state within us, rather than a thing without us ; it is 
 the likeness, and the enjoyment, and the service, of 
 God ; that which every true Christian carries in his 
 bosom now, and to which he will fully enter hereafter, 
 when he shall be made perfect in love. To this state all 
 true religion is ever tending : the spirit of love is the mo- 
 tion and progress of the soul towards its eternal rest in 
 the presence of God. No man can be prepared for the 
 celestial felicity, while his heart is destitute of this ; and 
 whosoever has most of it, knows most of the unseen and 
 ineffable joys of the righteous. He lives in the vestibule 
 of the heavenly temple ; and is ready, whenever its doors 
 shall be opened, to enter into the dwelling place of God. 
 The image of God is upon him, and the likeness of 
 Deity is always attended with something of the happiness 
 of the Deity. O the bliss of that state, where the facul- 
 ties of the mind, inconceivably expanded, shall let in the 
 full streams of the divine beneficence, and open them- 
 selves to the uttermost to comprehend the breadth and 
 length, the depth and height, of that love which passeth 
 knowledge ; where divine goodness will so act directly 
 upon the soul, as to raise it to a state of -holy enjoyment 
 surpassing all our present imaginations. 
 
 What a motive to go on in the pursuit of charity ! 
 Who does not wish to become better acquainted with 
 his eternal state? Who does not wish to have a more 
 correct knowledge of that condition in which he is to 
 remain for ever ] To attain to this, we cannot turn
 
 282 
 
 aside the veil which conceals the holy of holies from our 
 view ; we cannot look upon the throne of God : we can- 
 not be rapt like Paul into the third heaven : no ; but we 
 may, like John, see the New Jerusalem coming down 
 out of heaven, and feel it taking possession of our hearts 
 in the spirit of love. Rarely, indeed, do Christians at- 
 tain, in the present state, in this unquiet world, to that 
 calm repose of mind, that serene enjoyment, attendant 
 upon the subjugation of the passions to the gentle do- 
 minion of benevolence, which conveys to them any very 
 high notion of the supreme felicity which must be con- 
 nected with the consummation of such a temper. Hap- 
 py seasons do occur; but, alas ! how seldom, when they 
 are so far released from the influence of every selfish 
 and angry affection when they so far feel the trans- 
 forming influence of that divine beneficence which they 
 contemplate as to be conscious of the perfect felicity 
 which must arise from their being filled with all the ful- 
 ness of love. Let us seek more and more after these 
 anticipations of our eternal state : we have not already 
 attained, neither are we already perfect ; but, forgetting 
 the things that are behind, let us reach onward, that we 
 may apprehend that for which also we are apprehended 
 in Christ Jesus. Heaven is not only above us, before 
 us, beyond us, but may be within us : we may all know 
 more of it than we do : let us become more and more 
 anxious to accumulate, not the perishing riches of silver 
 and gold, but the imperishable wealth of a holy and 
 heavenly temper : let us aspire to immortality beyond 
 the grave, and to the spirit of it upon earth, ever re- 
 membering that a Christian is one who professes to be 
 born from heaven and to be bound to it ; one who has 
 more of heaven than of earth in his disposition ; one who 
 already dwelleth in heaven by dwelling in God ; one 
 who is meetened for converse with the innumerable 
 company of angels, with the spirits of just men made per- 
 fect, with God the judge of all, and with Jesus the media- 
 tor of the new covenant ! one who bears the impress of 
 eternity, and is irradiated with some beams of the ce- 
 lestial glory ; and how can he give meaning, or con-
 
 283 
 
 sistency, or truth, to professions so high and so holy, 
 except it be by that love which is the fruit of regenera- 
 tion, the effect of faith, the necessary operation of love 
 to God ; and which, being cherished in the soul by the 
 grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, comprehends in its em- 
 braces the whole universe, and, in the exercise of its 
 good-will towards those who come under its influence, 
 " suffereth long and is kind ; envieth not ; vaunteth not 
 itself; is not puffed up ; doth not behave itself unseemly ; 
 seeketh not her own ; is not easily provoked ; thinketh 
 no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the 
 truth ; covereth all things ; believeth all things ;" endu- 
 reth all things ; and of which it is sublimely said, that 
 " CHARITY NEVER FAILETH." 
 
 THE END.
 
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